Every thing is dark in this world and everything is dead. Our families, our friends, and everybody else; dead. But just because they're dead doesn't mean they can't be enjoying a nice little stroll right about now.
In fact right about now is when Mrs. Dueler decided to reanimate and look for a late night snack. And Mr. Dueler, always being the gentleman, is happy to oblige. His screams reverberate through the cold night and add that perfect eeriness to an already terrifying scene.
I just stand here waiting for my eyes to open and to find myself lying in bed as my alarm rings, but of course this isn't a dream. I know for sure because I woke up twenty minutes ago to find my mother and father half eaten in their room and my little brother leaning over my face with blood dripping from his mouth.
I guess I never really expected the virus to reach us in Porcupine Town. It was a safe zone, a place that the Parasol Company put citizens so that we didn't have to see flesh eaters everywhere. So you can imagine my frustration when I saw my little brother this morning.
Of course most of that frustration was coming from the fact that he was spitting blood all over my new sheets and since I didn't know he was a walking corpse I did what any big sister would do. I grabbed my alarm clock and clocked him over the head with it. Was I overacting? Maybe, but looking back at it I'm glad I did because it unreanimated him.
Any way, back to the lovely display of spousal abuse before me. I suppose I could have stopped Mrs. Dueler, but even before she was a zombie she gave me the creeps. So like I said, I'm just going stand here while she munches on her husbands leg. I probably shouldn't find this so interesting, but I do. I've never seen the Dictator Virus in action before and I must admit that it is as disturbing as it was rumored to be.
I wish you folks at home could see this because I kid you not; this is probably the gnarliest thing I've ever seen that didn't involve skateboarders without helmets. I mean seriously disgusting; she has one of the ligaments from Mr. Dueler's leg hanging out of her mouth while she is trying to pick the rest of the tissue off one of his bones. Don't worry though because Mr. Dueler is already dead. Mrs. Dueler socked him over the head with a rake after her first bite to stop his screaming so that she wouldn't have to share with the other zombies.
And if it makes you feel any better, Mrs. Dueler was always a cruel flesh eater. Not in the literal sense of course, but she wouldn't even share her hedge clippers with her old neighbors when the D-Virus first struck. She was skinnier and could actually run back then. Since then she's let herself go.
She doesn't really look too different either; she's still fat and senile and can't walk that well. She also still has grayish, wiry hair, only now there are huge junks of it missing. And as for her face, well, the only real difference is that it's half missing, which means Mr. Dueler put up a pretty good fight. And that's surprising because Mr. Dueler was always a bit of a pushover, not to the "I'll let you bite my leg off" extent, but definitely the "I'll let you have my social security card number Mr. Homeless Person" extent.
By the way my name is Lauren. I feel like I should let you know now in case I die in the next few minutes. I'm an average teenage girl just like you… unless you're a boy. Then we're completely different and if you don't know how then I advise you to stop falling asleep in health class, but that's not the point. The point is, I'm living during the End of the World Era, also known as the Holy Crap Did That Guy Seriously Just Bite Me? Era.
Either way you can tell that this isn't going to end well for you or me. And why is that? Because the Parasol Company, the largest medical and weapons research organization in the world, royally screwed up. They were studying one of the last existing strains of smallpox when one of the researchers thought it would be "cool" to inject the virus into a tick. The virus mutated and became what is now known as the Dictator Virus.
Why it's named that, I don't know, but what I do know is that the Parasol Company has no chance of hiding this from the public. Especially since I'm sending this tape to The White House along with my proof that Parasol is behind all of this.
There's someone coming this way. A man I think. I'm going to try to get his attention and hopefully he'll come help me. He looks like a cop, so he has to be here to rescue the survivors. Huge bonus is that he has a gun, which is like being the only fireworks stand on the Fourth of July when there are zombies everywhere.
He sees me! I'm outta here! I'm saved! No more zombies for me!
"Have you been bitten?"
No, of course not.
"Are there others with you?"
No it's just me. My little brother ate my parents and I hit him with an alarm clock.
"What's with the tape recorder?"
I know who's behind this and I'm documenting everything that's happening so that they will be held accountable.
"Who do you think is behind all of this?"
I don't think I know. I know. And it's the Parasol Company. They developed all of the surrounding cities as an experiment. Porcupine was supposed to be the Control sample in their experiment, but one of the survivors from the last zombie attack must have been infected.
"And you have proof that it was Parasol?"
Rock solid proof. Hey, wait. What's that on your badge?
…. You're with Parasol!
There is a thud and a plastic clattering as the tape falls to the ground. The sound of a silencer goes off. And then there is static. The tape has ended. I don't feel sorry for the "Lauren" that made this tape. She shouldn't have told him what she knew. She shouldn't have trusted him.
I can't help but smile. The Apocalypse turns everyone into a hypocrite.
Well everyone let me know what you think pretty please. I would love advice on how I could make this more fun to read and if you want your very own zombie character added into the story just leave me a comment on what you'd like the little fella to look like and I'll add him/her into the story eating someone or getting killed. Let me know.