Author's Note: Hey there, readers! So, I wrote this as a short, one-shot with the potential of becoming a full story/episode. This was really just an attempt to practice the writing style needed for iZombie's tone. It's being published as a one-shot with the sole purpose of getting a look inside Liv's character. However, if people review and like this writing sample enough, then I just might either continue on to it, or develop another story within the iZombie world. I love this show dearly and would like to explore it more. So if you read this and would be interested in seeing more iZombie pieces, let me know as well as what you want to see (i.e. ships, crossovers, inner-monologues, original episodes, erotica, ect.). I plan on writing a Liv/Lowell AU story-line at some point, but any and all other suggestions are welcome. Thank you and enjoy. :)

Liv Up to the Archetype

'Society has long since portrayed monsters to be unfeeling, vile, inhumane creatures. We see it in television, films, books, even the news when it comes to human atrocities committing despicable crimes. Monsters come in all shapes and sizes, whether they're the Creature of the Black Lagoon or the shady neighbor down the street. It all comes down to them sharing the common factor of doing what they do and feeling no remorse. If I'm everything Hollywood and the real-world depict as being a monster then why do I feel as awful as I do? Why do I feel in general? I can't go on living like this. I'm only pretending that my friends and family despising me isn't bothersome, but in reality it's tearing me to shreds. The worst part of all is that I never asked for any of this. It just happened. A piss poor series of events led up to the disintegration of my life and relationships. I need a cure more than ever. I need my old life back; I'm certainly not cut out for the role of the cold-blooded monster.'

It was a typical cold and rainy Seattle day; no better way to set the current mood for Liv. The last dose of brains had her moping around her work at the medical examiner's office. Images clouded her head, driving her to the verge of insanity one moment and to a secluded depression the next. Major's unexpected visit the other night was no help to the situation either.

Liv stood at the examining table looking a little deader than usual. Her eyes glazed over leaving nothing but a couple of black abysses. A slight frown formed at the corner of her lips, accompanying the overall somber appearance that she had established for herself. Meanwhile, Ravi chattered with excited fluidity. The words drifted by Liv's ears but made no lasting impact. They past in clumps of murmurs and gargled sounds, enveloped by the commotion going off in her own head. Major's "I need help" kept replaying in her thoughts, blocking any ability to consume words from the outside world.

"I'll admit she had a little of the 'overly-attached-girlfriend' thing going on, but aside from that we really hit it off. For instance, she's a hard-core gamer girl. How can I pass that up? And let me tell you, she makes a mean Bangers and Mash-"

Liv blinked out of her trance, her eyes lazily focusing on Ravi.

"I'm sorry, a Bangers and what?"

Ravi huffed, clearly annoyed by his counterpart's lack of attention.

"It's a British dish. Liv, are you feeling alright? You were little miss chatty just about half an hour ago and then no sooner do I start into my weekend adventures, you shut down. What's going on?"

"Sorry. It must have been the manic depressive I ate for lunch the other day. One minute I feel fine and then the next I start feeling like the epitome of shit. I just go into these trances and start lingering on things like-"

"Major?" Ravi interrupted.

"Major, Peyton, Evan, the impending zombie apocalypse." Liv sighed, her shoulders slouching forward in defeat.

"Sounds like you need a pick me up." Ravi chimed in as he lifted a clipboard up from the metal table before him.

"Yeah, maybe. What do we have?"

Ravi raised an eyebrow as he examines the paperwork in his hand.

"45 year-old Alexander Kaufman. Lived alone, a bit of a shut in according to neighbors. Suffered from DPD, Depersonalization disorder and a severe lack of being able to comprehend or show emotion…" Ravi trailed off, his eyes fixating cautiously on Liv.

"Great. So my options are stay a Bi-polar mess or eat the brain of a possible sociopath and live out the next week being unable to identify reality."

"Well, it's probably going to have to be the latter. The victim suffered blunt force trauma to the frontal lobe while lying in his own bed. That's a pretty strong indication of homicide. Clive already called in and expects that you and your third eye will help him out on the case." Ravi lowered his clipboard. Concern gathered in his features.

"Right. Well, let's get to it." Liv reached into her pocket for her gloves. With a swift motion she snapped them onto her hands.

Ravi rubbed the back of his head. He seemed hesitant to inquire her further, but managed to push the words past his mouth.

"Do you want to talk about it? About Major and the Utopian-"

"No!" Liv cleared her throat, taking a moment to compose herself. "Not right now. I can use a break from all of these thoughts and feelings. Maybe it's time I live up to my true nature and see what it is to really not care; to not have to deal with all of the trivial little moments of humanity."

"You don't have to do this, Liv.."

"I do. It's my job. We'll worry about everything else when you have a cure." Liv snapped in a harsh tone. A sudden rush of anger flushed the only ounce of color to her cheeks.

Ravi stepped back, knowing better than to interfere with Liv's sudden mood swings. Inhaling deeply, Liv calmed herself. She picked up the bone saw, the blade began to swirl and buzz at a low hymn. Slowly, she lowered it into the head of the corpse.