Hi! Wolf here, with a new, sorry excuse of a story. Don't expect regular updates, I write when I have inspiration, and don't like, don't read. RWBY belongs to RoosterTeeth and Monty Oum, and any zombie movie details that I may unintentionally copy belong to their respective owners.
Hi, my name is… You know, I can't remember, any and all pre-death memories come back in rare flashes, but more on that later
I shuffle down the cracked street, passing buildings that have long since collapsed, and the crumbling remains of skeletons dotting the streets. I pass under a rusted lamp post, listening to the wind pass through the ruins, as I look for any buildings that have yet to fully collapse. I've been wandering for a while now, so my shoes are pretty worn down. I'm going to have to replace them soon. A darkened building appears down one of the streets, and I shift my direction of movement. As I get closer, I see torn posters of comic books and anime characters, vestiges of an age long past. I ordinarily would have ignored a building like this, but uncollapsed buildings were a rarity these days, so I'll take any entertainment that I can find. I glance down at my ragged attire. New clothes too. I walk in through the broken glass of the abandoned store's doors, and look around. The place is a mess, all the displays are shattered, and there are comic books strewn all over the floor. I lean over and pick one up. The pages have been waterlogged, so the ink is ruined. This is a real disappointment, I'd cry if I could. Throughout however long I've been wandering, I've only actually ever found a few books that still had anything on their pages, and of those, I could only enjoy the one with pictures. That's right, I can't read, at least not enough to enjoy a children's level book.
Shuffling further into the store, I enter a back room. Jackpot. The room is a mess, but there's a skeleton wearing intact clothes and steel cosplay items. I remove the remains of my shirt, revealing the giant hole in my abdomen where my intestines used to be. I suppose this may be confusing to you, so allow me to clear this up. I, am by all definition, Dead. Capital D. Maybe with a Z. The apocalypse started years ago, I have no idea how many. All I know is that I died early on, and was stupid enough to get frozen solid on more than one occasion. Talk about boredom. I haven't seen any other Dead walking around in a long time, and even longer since I saw someone with a pulse. The hole in my abdomen? Shotgun blast. Some idiot in the final days of humanity thought it would be a great idea to leave his barricaded shelter in the middle of the night and run around, firing the last of his ammunition at anything that moved. I wasn't even looking at him, but I took a small amount of satisfaction watching my fellow Dead swarm him. Of course, Afterwards I felt a little bit bad, however, as the other Dead don't seem to be able to think like I can. Boring conversations.
Moving on! I steal his shirt, jeans, shoes and hoodie. The hoodie has a little rabbit head on it, half bringing back a memory of an old playconsole 2 game. It's not much, but I'll take any memories I can get. The cosplay items appear to be styled as a futuristic night. I stare at the armor set before I shrug. Why not? I put on the armor. It fits relatively well, and feels sturdy. I pick up the sheath, and accidently press a button by a handle, causing the sheath to open into a shield. Awesome. A few minutes of fiddling around with it later, I return the shield to its sheath configuration, and look at the sword. It feels comfortable (mostly) in my grip, and doesn't even scratch when I hit it into a knocked-over filing cabinet with all my strength. Nice sword. I'm keeping this.
Having gotten over my awe of the weapon, I rummage around the room, and find a phone charger, which would be awesome… if the power still worked. I take the cord anyway, sticking it in my new hoodie pocket. Over the next hour, I thoroughly search the store, and find nothing of real value, so I walk out and move on. It is night now, but the only noise is the wind. The living are all gone, and the last of the dead aside from me rotted away a while ago. I don't know why I can think, and why I haven't rotted. Maybe it's because I ate too many food preservatives in my previous life. Maybe I was a druggie, I have no way of knowing, and it's not like there are any scientists to ask, and the internet died years ago. I still mourn the internet. I look up at the starry sky, clearer now without light pollution and smog.
A shooting star appears. 'Cool… Oh shit!' The glowing meteor crashes into me.