A/N: I AM FUCKING EXCITED TO SEE WHAT YOU GUYS THINK OF MY STORY! HALLELUJAH! So yes, here's the first chapter of the story. Before things really get started, I have a few things to say to you! (1) There are NO ZOMBIES in this chapter or the next chapter. I'm trying something new where I introduce every character before all the stuff happens. I would have introduced all of them in this chapter but then it would have been super long. This is Day 0, the day before the zombie outbreak officially took place. So the story itself starts off pretty slow, but I can guarantee that you'll enjoy it. (2) I treat this story like I'm the director of a TV show. So, I script out each chapter and make sure everything is good. Each chapter is like a scene to me, and the story is a lot more enjoyable if you look at it like a show. Think of this chapter as the first 15 minutes of a TV show. (3) I'm leaving the zombies as a surprise for you to guess how they'll be. They'll share similar qualities to the H.O.T.D. ones (so that way the story isn't completely AU) but I'll put some original stuff into it too, so it's unpredictable. (4) I feed off of reviews. I am a review whore. The more reviews I get, the faster chapters will be posted. I accept criticism and comments, but don't be rude (mind you, I am fifteen and I am a sophomore). OK, now if you have any more questions, just ask me in the PM box, but for now, please enjoy this chapter guys, have fun!

WARNING: The following content is for an older audience base. It contains blood and gore, violence, swearing, sexual themes, torture, drugs and other suggestive things. Rating is currently T, and will change to M eventually. Reader's discretion is advised.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN H.O.T.D. (HIGHSCHOOL OF THE DEAD) OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS BESIDE MY OWN OC. I ALSO DON'T OWN ANY MOVIE/MUSIC/TV SHOW REFERENCES I MAKE IN THIS FANFIC. THE ONLY THING I DO OWN IS THE IDEAS THROWN INTO THIS PARTICULAR FANFIC. PLEASE DON'T BLOCK ME.

D.E.A.D.
By Awesomestprime8
ACT I
Dying and Empty

Chapter 1
Final Day of Simplicity
pt. 1

Day 0

The orb of the ghostly yellow sun sat in the blue sky, the clouds completely missing down in Southern California, despite it being mid-winter of February. The streets were as busy as ever, all heading for either San Diego, Los Angeles or out for a four hour drive to Las Vegas. Some students attended lunch at Harley High School either outside or inside with their friends or by themselves. However, many of the juniors and seniors were gathered outside behind the school as they watched a fight.

There were two boys. The first boy was one of the linebackers for the football team. He was tall, muscular and fairly mad; one of the school bullies. The second boy wasn't of the same size however, and looked barely phased at all. Although tall, he didn't weigh much, having slightly pale fair skin now bruised from the punches. His name was Greg Tyndall, and right now he was getting completely pounded in front of half his grade.

Students circled around the two, taunting and cheering for one another as the blood painted the cement of the school. The taller boy swung a fist fast and hard. It collided with Greg's jaw, whipping his head to the side. Before he could react, another fist punched him across his left cheek, cutting it open a bit. Greg wobbled back a bit, feeling blood come up his mouth and out his lip. Despite being punched in the face, he smiled mockingly.

"Come on," Greg said, "My six year old sister can hit harder-"

Right when he said that, the boy punched him in the gut, causing Greg to gag a bit. He confused the boy however when he started to cackle. "Kick his ass!" one of girls shouted from the crowd. Greg stared at the boy skeptically. "Yeah, kick my ass," he said, mimicking the girl's voice. Angered by his mockery, the boy uppercut Greg in the jaw, sending him on his back as he grunt.

The boy kicked him in the ribs a few times, Greg now breathless but still managing to smile. Finally feeling satisfied with himself, the boy gave one final kick at Greg's gut. He backed away a bit, turning to the crowd who cheered the football player on. Before long, everyone had left with the boy, leaving Greg lying on the ground heavily breathing in and out.

Greg was what you'd call a loser. There was a time when he first came to Harley High School that he wanted to make friends and have people like him; but once he realized that a lot of people actually didn't want him around, he stopped caring. Now he gets beat up on a daily basis just for being himself. By now he was used to it; in fact he began to enjoy it.

After another two minutes went by he sat up, brushing the dust off his clothes. He combed his fingers through his short, light brown crew cut hair, spitting blood onto the ground and wiping it off his lips. He made his way into the school, feeling the meat below his eye swelling up. A majority of the school's eyes went to him once he entered the high school, staring in disgust. Greg ignored everyone, making his way down the hallways.

By now he could barely see out of his left eye as it puffed up. It's best not to fight back, don't need to get suspended again, he thought, making his way around the corner of the hallway. He soon reached the nurse's office, entering with much pride. The room was small, literally the size of a wide closet with a desk, refrigerator and two uncomfortable chairs in it. "Hey Ms. Clement's I'm back-"

He stopped himself when he saw that the normal nurse wasn't in there. Instead there was the nurse's assistant Valerie Dixon. She sat at the nurse's desk with her long, bare legs on the table, a magazine in her hands.

Valerie was the IT girl of the school; everyone knew who she was and she knew all the gossip being spread around. She was almost like an informant, or like one of the plastics off of Mean Girls. She was busty with tanned skin and strawberry blond hair that was straight and went to her back, her boxed bangs framing her face. What Greg hated most about her was that she was so cliché, being the head cheerleader and extremely popular and rude.

Valerie looked up with her crystal blue eyes meeting Greg's dark, pale green ones. She looked at his bruises in disgust, grimacing a bit. "Gross," she commented.

"Like looking in a mirror right?" Greg commented back, taking a seat in the waiting chair near the door. "Where's Clement?" he asked.

"Out at lunch probably, otherwise I wouldn't be here," she said, flipping a page in her magazine, "What idiotic thing did you do this time?" Greg rubbed more blood off his lip and cheek, walking over to the sink and mirror so he could look at the damages. "You know Cody right?" Greg said.

"Of course I do," she answered.

"His girlfriend asked to borrow one of my history books two days ago. So today she walked over to me during passing period and gave it back to me. We ended up chatting and the prick got jealous. So now I'm here," he explained, gargling his mouth with water. Valerie gagged at the sight, really uninterested in helping him. "Well, you know where the bandages are," she said.

"Aren't you the assistant?" he questioned, looking over at her. Valerie purposely ignored him, continuing to browse through her magazine. Greg looked through the drawers, pulling out a Band-Aid as he placed it on the cut below his eye. Gargling his mouth again, he then grabbed an icepack, placing it on the Band-Aid. He winced a bit at the sudden cold sensation, taking a seat back on the waiting chair.

Valerie looked over at him, a bit irritated. "If you did everything you needed to do, you can leave now," she said in a slightly aggressive tone.

"Am I annoying you with my presence?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"Then I think I'll stay for a while."

"You're such an immature brat," she insulted.

"Oh," he said sarcastically, "Was that supposed to offend me Barbie doll?" Valerie backed down from the soon to be a pointless argument, continuing to browse through her magazine without a care in the world.

A couple more minutes passed before the lunch bell rang, signaling that he had to leave for class now. "Well it was fun while it lasted," Greg said, throwing the ice pack away as he made his way to the door. "Have a beautiful day Val," he smiled quizzically, waving at her slightly. "I hope those cigarettes kill you," she responded, not taking her eyes off the magazine in front of her.

Greg walked down the hallway, making his way to his next class. He was suddenly stopped when he heard someone behind him say, "Whoa, what happened to your face?" He turned, having mixed feelings on the boy he was now facing.

Approaching him was none other than Phil Angelo. He was an eighteen year old boy with dark olive brown tanned skin and dark brown short/medium length curly hair which was a bit unruly but at the same time neat and washed. Phil was a jock, like Greg only he was in Track/Field, Cross country and tennis while Greg only did lacrosse; that made Phil a bit more fit than him (and he was taller). The two have somewhat of a one-sided friendship, their point of views on things never quite meeting, making it hard for them to bond as good friend.

Greg paused in the middle of the hallway, other students pushing around him as he looked over at Phil with a somewhat mutual expression. "What the hell happened?" Phil asked, laughing under his breath a bit. "I got beat up," Greg bluntly said, continuing through the hallway while his friend followed.

"When was this?" Phil asked.

"A couple minutes ago. It doesn't hurt or anything if that's what you're concerned about."

The two entered the classroom they were going to, a couple students looking up and seeing Greg's somewhat battered face. Greg noticed, shrugging at them as he took his seat at the back of the class. Phil took a seat in the one in front of him, turning to face him. "Who did it?" he asked.

"Cody. I kinda knew he was gonna start a fight when he saw me talking to his girlfriend," Greg said.

"You weren't hitting on her were you?" he asked.

"Hell no, I'm surprised Cody wants to tap that," Greg gagged a bit. By now, the class was just about full of students, the teacher now entering as the bell rang. Everyone became seated, preparing for the boring lectures and lessons soon to come. Greg tuned the teacher out, gazing out the window as he leaned on his hand. He began to think about his plans tonight. For some reason, the ASB thought it would be clever to make the Valentine Day's dance a few days before Valentine's Day and on a Monday (while the actual Valentine's Day is on a Saturday this year). If his band hadn't of gotten a gig at the dance tonight, Greg could promise he wouldn't be going.

His train of thought was suddenly cut off when he heard some commotion coming from the front of the classroom. Greg looked over, seeing one of the students raising their hand up. The teacher looked over at them, his arms crossed. "What seems to be the problem Mr. Bryans?" he asked, impatience in his voice.

"C-Can I go to the nurse's room?" the boy stammered, standing up from his desk. "Now Mr. Bryans, if you weren't feeling good don't you think you should have went to the nurse's room at lunch-"

"Please Mr. Craig; I really don't feel good-"

Out of nowhere, the boy vomited on the table, making the boys in the class cringe and the girls yelp. The teacher gasped himself, walking over to the student as he checked to make sure he was OK. Once things were figured out, the teacher told the class to hold on while he escorted the student to the nurse's room.

Greg pushed the current situation out of his head, not caring much as he folded his hands on his desk. His attention suddenly snapped to the piece of crumbled paper that was thrown at him. He picked it up from the floor, unraveling it. He saw that it was a note. Greg read it in his mind, seeing that it said, "Did you get in a fight at lunch?" in neat handwriting.

He looked to his right, seeing that the girl sitting next to him had thrown it at him. Her name was Alexandra Grimm, though he tends to just call her Alex or Radiohead. She was the school's loner, never really talking much and tended to be messed with by others. She has C sized breast which were close to D's, pale skin and extremely layered and choppy hair and bangs which were black with the tips dyed purple. They had a pretty close friendship, being as Greg didn't mind her silence and bluntness while she didn't mind his rudeness and humor. They'd even started a band together.

"Yeah I got in a fight," he whispered, turning to face her. Alex did the same, crossing her legs. "Why?" she asked, almost too quiet for him to hear. "'Cause he's a prick, need I explain more," he said. Before they could elaborate more on the situation, the teacher walked back in, brushing his suit off a bit.

"Honestly," he began, "Is it flu season? That's the fifth student today in my class that was sent to the nurse's office; the whole room is full of students," he said. "And did you see the news this morning?" the teacher continued, "The police found the mangled bodies of a teenaged girl and her mother in their house after their father had eaten them. Honestly, I wouldn't have thought people could just snap and convert to cannibalism. But for now, let's carry on with today's lesson."

...

"Are you going to the dance tonight?" a girl asked, brushing the bottom of the paint brush she held against the paper. "No, I wish but my Mom hasn't been feeling well lately. So, I'm just gonna stay home and make sure she's OK while my Dad's away on his business trip."

Sitting in the art room, hardly painting pictures was a boy named Gabriel Monroe. He was a prep, the rich boy, the social butterfly with tanned fair skin, blue eyes and blond medium length hair. A lot of people knew who he was, being he was on the Debate team. But a lot of girls like him because of his French accent... and because he was in both the French and baking club. I'm good looking too if I do say so myself, he thought to himself. To top it all off he was rich, and if he were rude, he'd be just like the male version of Valerie. Thankfully, he's actually nice.

The girl sitting beside him twirled a finger through her hair, biting her lower lip in an attempt to catch his eye. "Well I hope your mom gets better soon. It's a shame you can't go though," she mentioned. "Yeah, if my Mom's doing well tonight then I'll go. But this strange flu has been going through the air and a ton of people are catching it. I just hope I don't get it, it looks pretty bad."

At the table behind them in the art room were two other students, staring in disgust. "Look at her," a girl said, "talk about desperate."

"You'd think she could do better too," a boy said.

Sitting at a table behind Gabriel were the school's two biggest delinquents, Anthony Reyes and Lucille Belle Johnson. The both of them got in the most trouble and seemed to irritate the most amounts of people, still managing to have a good amount of friends however. Anthony was Spanish-American, having light olive skin, brown eyes and messy razor sharp mid-length hair. Lucille, more commonly known as Lucy was Caucasian, having light tan skin, natural lavender eyes and chestnut colored pin straight hair which went down to her belly button, also having messily chopped bangs framing her face and forehead.

"I swear, any minute now and she's just gonna rip his clothes off," Lucy commented. "Get a room," Anthony suddenly told them, laughing under his breath after he said it. Gabriel turned to face them, scoffing a bit. The girl turned as well, pouting a bit. "Jealous?" she question.

"Bitch please, I can do better," he commented. Lucy started laughing, covering her face as she tried to contain it. Gabriel and the girl decided to ignore him, turning back to their art work. Anthony and Lucy laughed in the background, looking down at their blank pieces of paper where a painting should be by now. "So did you hear?" Lucy suddenly said. "Hear what?" he asked.

"Some sicko ate his family last night. They have the whole phone call when she called the cops on YouTube and it was all over the news. It was fucking brutal," Lucy said, wiping her eyes a bit. "Again with the eating people," Anthony said, "They've gotta lay off those bath salts." Lucy laughed again, beginning her art work.

For the past month, the news has been on the fritz with over hundreds of people suddenly getting sick and a few of them even converting to cannibalism. It's been so crazy that some stores have shut down in fear that it's something in the food. The situations just seem to get worse by the passing day though, and no one knows what to do about it. All the high school students knew of it was what was being broadcast on the news or what has been going down on the streets. No one knows what's going to happen, but they all at least know something will happen soon. They just don't know when.

A/N: I'm such a strange person. The whole time I was typing this I was listening to Raawwrr by Bring Me the Horizon (which is a pretty hardcore song, probably one of the heaviest). It just got my brain flowing to keep typing and before I knew it, the chapter was done. Now, I'm not sure if some of you already know this but I like to ask questions at the end of every chapter, and on the topic of music I'd like to ask what your favorite pump up song to listen to is. You're not obligated to answer but if you give me a song you like I'll make sure I listen to it (unless I already know it/don't like it). My favorite pump up song is probably Rawr by Bring Me the Horizon, and I dare you guys to listen to it (and I bet 80% of you won't like it). But either way, hey I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please review, leave a comment, and favorite. Until we meet again, sayonara~