A/N: I said I'd do it damn it, and here it is. A zombie fic! I've never seen one before, but the Zombie Survival guide is my bible, and the world is ending in 2012 is directly related to zombies. So I figured, "Why the hell not?" Be warned though. This is not really a light fic. This chapter may not seem so bad, but it'll probably get worse, depending on my whims. If you like it, (and even if you don't) PLEASE REVIEW!

Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

-Friedrich Nietzsche

Darkness1

The servants arrival was a result of too many souls in hell.

Screams echoed into the night.

Incredibly large though they are, they move with such silence and precision that they can scarcely be detected. They wandered like darkened vagrants every night, their black surfaces reflecting no visible light. If one were to shine a light on them, one would only be met with an inky black fog forced roughly into a definable shape. Their form was that of enormous, monstrous men. Some were hard to justify being called humanoid. Tentacles, groping out into the darkness. Claws dragging on floors and bone-ribbed tails following suit. Tremendous eyes staring back from the abyss. These abominations were the malformed reincarnation of the already wicked souls in hell, after an eternity of torture. The blackness that inevitably marked their presence seemed to penetrate all things. Their surroundings, the air, your body, your very heart held in a tight, icy grip.

One could never directly gaze upon one of the demons. But their presence was unmistakably poignant. They could always be detected, but never observed. Like an itch on the back of the man with the shortest arms. An itch with teeth that could turn you into a mindless monster. These monsters could turn a person undead after inducing death, and many of the world's population was now reduced to little more than hungry cadavers with a dark craving for the human body.

The world would forever remember them as the Servants. The Master's presence brought them swarming from the depth's of hell. His rage manifested by these horrible specters who haunted the world.

The entire human race was assaulted every night by these beasts. Wherever light did not directly shine, the monster's roamed. Any place that humanity called home, the monsters were sure to be.

Humanity is no longer the dominant species. Who will save the world?

-_-_-_-_-

"What do you think of it?"

"…I don't know what I think."

"It has to be done brother. You know how crowded it's getting."

"Yes, but father is going to be upset."

"No, he has been waiting for a time. He will be pleased with me for recognizing a chance to strike."

"I hope you are right, brother."

"As do I."

"All will be well, brothers."

"I love you, my brothers."

"And I you, brother."

The boy shot up in bed, his eyes wide and his hair wild. His chest heaved and his arms could barely support him. Blue eyes scanned the immediate area frantically. A shaking hand came up to push some stray hair out of his eye.

He looked around in a daze, hoping desperately to see someone. The look in his eyes was that of a lost child. Any mother's nurturing instinct would engage upon seeing his face.

Not that he was even that young, he appeared to be of around 12 years of age. Still some baby fat on his cheeks. But he was lean, and toned after many years of practice in the deadly shinobi arts.

"Crazy fuckin' dreams…" His voice seemed eerily hollow, certainly too toneless for a boy his age. After gathering his wits, and shaking off the bad dreams, he set to work. He put away the tent he slept in, rolled up his sleeping bag and put his equipment into a scroll. There were no personal effect to be found. His property consisted entirely of a tent and sleeping bag sealed into a scroll. Which he sealed into another scroll that held various other scrolls and equipment. It allowed him to travel as light as possible.

He had light clothing on, a tight black t-shirt, gray pants. But he also wore arm bracers and leg bracers. He also had a red scarf wrapped around his neck. If asked why he wore the scarf, he would only answer, "For the challenge." Zombies you see, love to grab at loose clothes. He liked to give them a chance. Just for sport of course. Providing enemies with a handicap was only fair when you're a badass after all. (A/n: Keep in mind, not all Narrator's are 100% reliable... *Wink wink, nudge* Pretty important for the rest of the story. Pay attention now, cause I probably wont say it again.)

After all his items were packed away, he sat down on a nearby rock and sighed. He pulled out his scroll, unfurled a bit and smeared a little blood on a seal. A scroll popped into his empty hand. He set it down on the rock, before departing. He looked back on his former campground, watching in particular the scroll.

The scroll said,

"To anyone who finds this.

I hope you have not been bitten. If you have, please slit your throat immediately, lest you be turned into a ghoul. If you have not been bitten, feel free to stay alive (Although I wouldn't blame you if you decided to off yourself anyway) and to continue reading.

This is an excellent area for survival. It is remote enough that there is a almost zero population of Servants, and in turn a low concentration of Zombies.

Because of it's relative safety, this is a great spot to recuperate on a long journey. However it's relative inability to be defended is a problem for more than 3 occupants.

I lived here for three years by myself.

Secure a seed that gives fruit, or a vegetable for food. You can find them in the surrounding forest. There are plenty of animal around. But just be careful to not go out after dark.

Be careful and be vigilant. If you need a place to go, feel free to go to the nearby village of Konoha. Ask for an Uzumaki Naruto."