The fog shrouded the entire forest, creating a thickness that only the moonlight could cut through. She scampered between the tree trunks with labored breaths, panicking as she looked behind her, trying to see the distance she might have made from her pursuers. She could not see them, but she could make out the black shadows of her enemies as they streamed continuously towards her. Their low moans of blood thirst broke the silence, but falling only on her ears. There was no one to help her. The shadows grew closer with each passing moment. She had been running for miles and she was too fatigued to continue. Slowly, she backed up, hoping for a way out, when a pair of cold, dead hands caught her, wrapping their fingers around her arm, and she felt teeth sinking deep into her flesh. She screamed for help, but no one could hear. The camera panned out and the scene faded to black, and the credits rolled.
"What?" An incredulous voice belonging to Tracey De Santa questioned. The faux-blonde held her nail file out with one hand, the other facing palm-up in a questioning gesture. "That doesn't even make any sense." She complained to her audience, consisting of her brother, Jimmy, and her father, Michael.
"What doesn't make sense, Tracey? The fact that the zombies ate her fucking brains out?" Jimmy asked, violently mimicking the act on an imaginary person, complete with detailed sound effects.
"Cut that out!" Tracey demanded. She continued filing her nails as she rephrased her question. "I meant why does it end like that? She was the last person alive, and now she's dead. That's not even a good ending. It's supposed to be happy."
"It's Vinewood Zombie, Tracey." Jimmy retorted. "Not 'Woman Makes Miraculous Escape And Survives Zombie Apocalypse.'"
"Stop being so condescending, you little turd!"
"Stop being such an airhead!"
"Fu-"
"Alright, alright!" Michael cut in, waving his hands back and forth, trying to get his kids to stop their argument. "We almost made it through a whole sitting without that shit, so I'll just pretend it didn't happen." He stopped the movie, and the news segment that had replaced the Vinewood Zombie credits on the screen had all of their attention.
"-was reportedly eaten alive, and has been taken to the ER, though doctors are doubtful of his chances. Police reports say this has been the fourth incident today, and would like to ask any witnesses to please call the number at the bottom of the screen to report any more similar incidents." The female news anchor's smile seemed forced as the camera panned out and they cut to commercial. All three De Santa's sitting on the couch stared at the television in astonishment for a good minute before any of them spoke aloud.
"What the fuck?" Jimmy's mouth was agape as he stared at the TV, finally looking over to his father as though he could offer some sort of explanation. However, Michael generally had the same reaction to the news piece, though he decided to try to brush it off.
"Must be some sort of new drug thing," Michael mumbled passively, trying to ignore the alternative.
"Whatever," Tracey stood up as Amanda entered the room.
"Ready for ladies' night, Trace?" Amanda asked, clad in a white tank-top, dark blazer, and a pair of tight-fitting jeans rather inappropriate for her age, though Michael himself wouldn't complain about how his wife looked in her outfit.
"Yeah, I'm done with this dumb zombie thing," She pointedly rolled her eyes at Jimmy. "I mean, honestly."
"It's good you were spending some time with the guys though," Amanda said brightly. She had made a promise to herself to be more positive now that the family was attempting to patch things up. She had attempted to drag Michael in on that promise, though she believed his heavy use of sarcasm had pretty much destroyed him beyond repair. "Anyway, we're heading out," She bent over to kiss her husband goodbye, who was trying to hide a look of concern in his face.
"Okay then, be safe." He responded, and Jimmy gave him a questioning look. Catching his son's eye, Michael scrambled for some more words that didn't make it sound like he believed what he knew Jimmy believed, based on that news report. "Don't let any assholes roofie your drinks."
"Will do - see you later baby. Bye, Jimmy." Amanda started heading out with Tracey following willingly behind, clueless to the reason that Jimmy had scoffed at Michael's words.
"Bye, mom." Jimmy waved half-heartedly as they left, and waited until they were out of the house before turning to his father and firing off. "You don't actually think all that shit is from 'some sort of new drug thing', do you?!"
"What do you want me to say, Jim? I thought you were old enough to watch this movie, but now I can see since you're still so impressionable, that was fucking ridiculous of me to assume." Michael's tone was even, if not a tad annoyed, but Jimmy knew his dad well enough to know when he was trying to hide something.
"Whatever," Jimmy said, echoing Tracey's response, and storming up to his room.
Michael shut off the TV, even though he had been hard on Jimmy for what he was insinuating, he couldn't help but think that maybe he was right. 'Worst case, Jimmy's right and the cops handle the situation.' He thought to himself, though he knew that reasoning with himself on this sort of ridiculous topic was a new one for him. Suddenly finding the whole idea laughable, especially that he would even consider its legitimacy, Michael chuckled to himself.
"Fucking zombies. As if."