remind me not to start a new story during exams._.

Tip 4: Any weapon is crucial, even if it is a tree branch.

Craig's POV

I'm gonna cut the whole bullshit story thing. I'm not even gonna give you a 'basically what happened was..' because that's in the past, and this is the present.

When your best friend calls up in the middle of the night and tells you there's a fucking zombie apocalypse outside, you don't tend to believe them. Well who would? It's the same as them ringing you up and saying 'Oh yeah, by the way Craig, your whole family is gonna die in the next ten minutes, but don't feel too bad, because it's happening to the whole town and probably the whole of America too. Basically, end of the world.'

But anyway, that doesn't matter anymore. I managed to get away, if you could tell. I don't know how, but I did. I should have died. But if it wasn't for me actually getting off my ass and taking a look outside to see what the hell Clyde was talking about, I would have been stunned by the form of my huge father sprinting towards me. Which was weird, because in any other situation, I would have told Clyde how much of a retard he was, flipped him off and hung up. But for some reason, I actually got out of my own bed to have a look.

I didn't really know what to expect, but yeah. It was exactly how he said it was. Don't get me wrong, I was surprised and shocked at first, but to be honest, I thought 'zombies' was a bit overrated. Sure, I saw people frantically bolting around the roads with blood spurring out of their mouths, but come on. Zombies? Seriously? For me, the word zombie sounds like it's from a stupid, badly directed, top cliché zombie film. I'd like to call it as a rage virus or something. No it's not the same thing. And no I didn't take that from a film. Whatever.

So all that matters now is that I'm on my own, trapped inside this warn down convenience store. Normally, my instincts would have told me not to go into any building that provided supplies, but I had a deep fucking wound that needed stitching up. And no, it wasn't a bite mark before you ask. It was a slash wound. I got tackled by one of those bastards and we ended up violently wrestling. I was trying to stop it from taking a huge ass chunk from my neck. I ended up being shoved into the window of this corner shop and the glass shattered into big-ass chunks. One landed into my right bicep. I'm not even gonna explain the pain, so I'll cut that out. I've just gone back on my word when I said I wasn't gonna give a basic, but whatever.

But anyway, after the glass stabbed me in the arm, I used it as a knife, and shanked the dam thing into it's head. I couldn't even tell you who it was, the figure looked so unfamiliar.

There were about six more of those things coming after me, so I had nowhere else to go but to the door that hid at the back of the room. I first thought it was the back door that led to the street where they throw out the garbage, but as I barged into it, I had the misfortune of landing into an empty office. And by empty, I mean nobody was in there. The place was a tip, however. Empty boxes thrown across the place, a broken chair, doodled tables and a tiny staff bathroom. This place has been out of business for a while.

I locked the door and stacked as many tough objects as I could, until I felt like it was enough to withstand the door from bastards on the other side.

So now this is the present. I'm currently crouching on the floor, examining the features of the room. There's a tiny window, just about big enough to fit my ass in. But that's it. There is no way I'm getting out through there. I suppose I am tall enough to reach the ceiling, but even that's a stretch. I could use one of the chair legs to break through the roof, but for one, that would make a huge racket and two, that takes effort. I don't want to injure myself anymore than the gauze in my fucking arm.

I lift myself up from the floor and stumble into the restroom. I notice the mirrored cupboard ontop of the sink and yank it open. All that is in there is an old toothbrush (ew), a pair of tweezers, an empty antidepressant pill box and a cup. Nothing useful. Even the antidepressants would make the annoying pain coming from my arm ease it out a little, but no. Oh well. I guess I'll have to Tucker myself up the right way and deal with the pain.

What I do see, however, is three different sized pins staring at me from the floor, below the sink. I kneel down and pick the biggest one up. I stare at it longingly, before I realise what I'm suppose to use it for. Fuck, I know what this means. I sigh and retrieve back into the unappealing office. Now I think about it, this room was probably used for storage, with all the empty boxes everywhere. The 'ONE-STOP GROCERIES' logo is plastered on every box's side. Whatever, I don't care.

I find myself crouching down again on the carpeted floor, chewing away my long sleeved shirt. Getting thread out of a piece of clothing is a bitch. I only just got my braces out last week and you would think that everything would be easier to do with a metal free mouth. Nope, still trying to get used to live without them. My teeth are so fucking annoying and I hate them, even if they are finally straight. Two and a half fucking years of wearing braces. That's two and a half fucking- do you even know how long that is? At least they're straighter than Cartman's now, the fucking cocksucker.

Anyway, back to the point. The thread isn't coming out of my sleeve, so I figure that there is only one other way I'm going to be able to get it. I close my eyes and carefully take my hat off of my head. I'm dreading this so much. My chullo and I have been through so much. I mumble an apology and begin to nibble the dangling string. No, it's not just a piece of clothing. It's my chullo. There's only one thing I actually care for more than anything in this world and that's my chullo, and Stripe.

Fuck.

Stripe.

I forgot all about him until now, how could I?! I topped his food barrel up this evening and I planted some treats round for him, so hopefully he will be alright for the time being. But fuck, I'm a terrible owner. Zombie apocalypse can suck my dick.

I manage to regain my thoughts back together and a long line of blue string snakes it way out. It's way too thick to fit through the hole inside the pin, so I tear it apart until it's small enough. Once I'm satisfied with the way it looks, I tear most of my right sleeve off. I clench my teeth together as the pain in my arm shoots through me. It hasn't stopped bleeding yet, but I should have that under control. Just as long as I don't bring anymore attention to myself.

I spit the long piece of cloth to the side and study the gauze. This is going to hurt. I've only ever seen this sort of thing once before. Back in the ninth grade, Tweek ended up getting his leg caught in some barbed wire. He didn't want his parents finding out, because he said that they would think that he cut himself again. Token was the only one with any experience, so he stitched it up for him. It wasn't a huge cut or anything, but it was pretty bad. Not as bad as mine at the moment though.

I have this thing with pain. It makes you feel good, for deep people. That sounds super fucking emo, but it's not a huge deal to me. But I'm not saying that sticking a needle into my skin doesn't hurt, because it fucking does. It was more of an annoying pain, but it send me cussing out loudly nonetheless. I take the fabric that I threw on the floor in front of me and use it to muffle my sounds. I thread the needle in and out of my skin until it's somewhat sealed. Well. You know what I mean.

The sleeve drops from my mouth and my breathing turns heavy. I squint my eyes and cup my hand over the wound. Now, it just aches. Hopefully it will only take about a week to seal up. My body heals quickly, it's kinda cool. I reach for the fabric and realise that it's not big enough to wrap round properly, so I rip off the left sleeve and sew the two together. My arms look uneven now, but I don't bother to care. I begin to wrap the now, suitably length rag around the top half of my arm. It could do with being a bit longer, but it'll have to do for now.

Once half satisfied with the patched injury, I lift myself up and pat myself off. I'm not going to sit here feeling sorry for myself. That's not what I do, so I try and think of a plan.

Slapping my jean pockets, I remember that I slipped my phone into them just before I pegged it out of the house. I dial the first number I see. Clyde. He's the one that got me in this mess, he can get me out.

I don't care if it's not his fault.

I await for an answer and soon enough, he picks up.

'Craig? Dude, what happened?!'

'Doesn't matter. Where are you.' I deadpan.

'I went to find Tweek. He said he was in trouble, so I've taken the backstreets and I'm gonna see if I can find him.'

'Okay, fine. You remembered a weapon, yeah?'

'Yeah, I've got one. Oh, man, this is so fucked up!'

'I know.'
I scratch the back of my head.

'Hey, uh- Craig?'

'Mm?'
I shove my hat back over my head, struggling so with one hand.

'Is.. Is this real?'

I scoff. 'Clyde, I've just spent the last 10 minutes sewing up a stab wound, with nothing but a pin and a piece of string. I got fucking chased by half a dozen of those things and now I'm trapped inside a warn down corner shop, trying to figure a way out of this dump. I think this is a little more than one of your basic nightmares.'

'Oh..'
His voice just turned hallow. Okay, so now I know something's happened.

'Shit. What happened, Clyde.'

'Dad, he.. I had to-' He stutters. 'I couldn't do it, Craig. Dammit, I couldn't do it!'

I nod my head in acknowledgement, beginning to realise what he's talking about. I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I know that Clyde and his Dad are pretty close. After his Mom died, all they had was each other, so I can't even begin to imagine how his reaction would go if anything bad happened to his Dad. Which at the moment, sounded very likely.

I don't wanna press the subject, so I'll drop it for now until I see him.
'Clyde, it's alright. We'll talk about it later, okay? Right now you need to go get Tweek and I'll find a way to get Token.'

'But.. What about everyone else?'

'I don't care about everyone else.'

'What about your family, Craig?'

'Dead.' I quickly respond. Any feelings I have are pushed aside when I'm trying to concentrate on something and it showed in my tone of voice.
'Look,' I continue, 'You're stable right?'

'Yeah.. I think so-'

'Good. I've gotta find a way outta here. As soon as you get Tweek, call me, okay?'

'I dunno if I can. My battery is on a 25, I don't know if it'll last that long.'

I lean my head back and groan.
'Dammit, Clyde. Right, meet me at Token's guest house.'

'What if it's locked?'

'He keeps a spare under the mat.'

'Kay. I'll try and be as quick as I-'

He pauses. I call his name, but all I hear the sound of violent groaning and the sound of tree branches snapping in the distance.
'HOLY SHIT!'

'Clyde?'
'Clyde?!' I repeat, raising my voice.

I click the loud speaker button to see if I could hear any distant sounds. Actually, it sounded more like his phone was stuffed into one of his pockets. I continue to stay on the line to see if I could hear anything that may be importance to me, but I can't hear anything. I can't even tell you if he's running or not.

Several moments later, the line hangs up and I'm left in a shitty mood. There was no need for that. Fucking cliché for him to leave me like that with no clue as to what just happened. Dick.

If you haven't figured already, I hate cliché's.

The door that led to the main shop begins to get on my nerves. It hasn't stopped banging since I first got in here, but now it's giving me a headache. I need to get out of here.

I noticed a hint of light come from the bathroom earlier from when I was in there, but I thought it was just very bad lighting. I lead myself into the unhygienic restroom. I look around the whole room, but fail to see any form of window. Until I look up. I see that the window is big enough for at least two of me to get through. The corner of my lip creeps into a determined smile. I realise that I don't have anything to protect myself with, so I wonder back into the other room and break off one of the -already broken- chair legs. It's wooden, so there is a slight sharpness to it, but who am I kidding. This sucks ass. Oh well, guess it's better than nothing.

Finding my way back into the bathroom, I bit my lip and proceeded to climb onto the sink. The bowl is smaller than my foot and if this thing cant take my weight, I'm screwed.

I don't waste time, so I use one foot to balance my weight and the other to do the climbing. I can just about reach the frame, so I unlock it first and slip my hands through. My arm fucking kills, but I'm trying to stop it from disturbing my escape. I push my strongest foot into the wall and once I lift up, I use the other to climb up. I am eventually able to push the window wide open and I use all of my upper body strength to get out of there. Best way I can describe it is like getting out of a swimming pool. I'm just so fucking glad I'm not a shortass.

So right now I'm standing on top of the roof. Mind you, this corner shop isn't exactly tall or anything, but I can just about see more of the town's disruption. Fuck me, it's gotten worse since I last looked out the window. There's fire in multiple buildings, and the screaming wont fucking stop. It's beginning to piss me off.

I feel like I'm safe for the moment, so I fish my phone from my pocket and dial Token's number.

He doesn't answer, so I dial again. No answer. I frown and try to call Clyde again. And now, he doesn't answer. I don't bother calling again, I know the outcome. This was so obvious. I itch the back of my head and let out a deep sigh. I'm still going to Token's.

I make my way to the edge of the building and jump off it, landing on my palms and the balls of my feet. I push myself up and head West, to where Token's house is.

Normally it would take me around twenty minutes to get there, as his house is on the posh side of town (yes can you believe that there is a posh side to South Park), but considering that there's a fucking catastrophe taking place, it's taking longer than expected. I recently lost my pathetic weapon and found a metal pipe in one of the garbage cans, so now I'm using that. It's still pretty shit, but It's all that's around at the moment, so until I find a suitable weapon that wont fuckin' break on the first hit, this'll have to do.

I walk round the backs of houses and pass one or two people that have the same idea. I accidentally bump into a guy who freaks the fuck out, because he wasn't looking where he was going. I startle myself, but soon figure that he's not one of those. Actually, come to think of it, he looks rather familiar. Oh shit, this guy goes to my high school.

'Thomas?'

'Fu- Oh shit, Craig?'

I briefly smile at him, before quirking an eyebrow. Dam I haven't spoken to this kid in a while.

'How are you and stuff?'

I scoff.
'Tom, I don't think now is a great time to be discussing small talk.'

'Fuck, sorry. Do you know what's going on? My parents have gone crazy so I came outside and my dam neighbour -MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER- started freakin' sprinting at me! Everything's going crazy, man- OH SHIT.'

I crack a smirk. I forgot how much I liked this guy.
'I know. I've seen it too. Say, where you heading now?'

He twitches.
'FUCK- I don't know, I was hoping to find somewhere to hide!'

I sigh. I can't leave this guy alone. There's no way he's gonna make it out alive. I don't know how he's got this far, but what the heck? So have I.

'Alright, well I'm going to Token's. His property is pretty big, you can tag along if you want.'

'You sure?'

I nod and continue to walk in the same direction as I was before, just before I got distracted. I feel him follow close behind me, mumbling a 'Oh thanks, man.'.

The journey was going smoothly until now. Up ahead I see two figures. By the way they are walking, they don't look like your average town folk. They aren't too far up ahead, but they haven't noticed us yet, so I grab Tom's shoulder and shove him into this tiny dead-end alley way. He shrieks and I tell him to calm down. God does this guy remind me of Tweek.

'Look, there's a couple of those things up there and we need to take them out.'

'What? Why don't we just wait til' they pass us?'

I poke my head round the corner and then turn back again.
'Because we haven't got all night. Come on.'

I begin to silently walk along the edge of the path with the metal pipe firmly in my palms.

'Craig, wait! I don't have anything to hit them with.'
A moment later he adds the 'OH SHIT' tick remark, which startles the figures in front.

I twist my head over my shoulder and frown. I see a near by tree with very few branches on. I shuffle towards it and jump up to reach one of the heavier looking branches. I manage to snap it off, using mainly my left arm, because the wound on my other is hurting like a bitch.

I hand it to Thomas and proceed to carry on striding forwards. We keep to the long shadow and thinking about it, it would be possible to just sneak past them. But I'm a stubborn bastard and I need to hit something.

I hear Thomas trying to keep in his ticks by making small squirming noises. I can tell he's trying his best to bite his tongue. No matter how much I like this guy, if he blows this, I'm gonna' fuckin' rage.

My eyes don't move off of them. I wave my hand towards Tom and point to the smaller guy, gesturing him to get that one, while I go for the taller one. I see him nod in the corner of my eye and I mouth the words: Three, two... one.

I lunge forward and swing the metal pole into the side of it's head. It jolts back and I swing for it again. I hear the crack of the skull collide with the metal and I don't stop hitting. I can only hear the shrieks and cussing sounds coming from Tom's ticks, but I don't look up. I continue to destroy it's head and give it several more blows. Even though the face is pretty much smashed up now, I still refuse to stop. There's something about this guy that I feel the need to completely ruin every aspect of.

And that's when I realise who it is. Mr, fucking Mackey. The fucking school counsellor who's given me a countless number of reports and lectures about how much of a 'bad' fucking influence I am. Not that I care what he thinks, but I was almost held back a year, because of this bastard. My grades were fine, but my 'attitude' wasn't. Fucking stupid. At least I wont have to listen to his idiotic tone of voice ever again, that's for sure.

The pipe I was using hasn't exactly been destroyed, but I know it's not going to last for too long.

I look over at Tom and smirk at the way he handled the situation. It doesn't look like he killed the thing, but that doesn't really matter. If it was someone else I knew and hated, I would definitely finish off the job, but strangers are a waste of energy. Actually, everyone I know is a waste of fucking energy.

'You okay?' I ask, panting.

He squints his eyes and lets out a shaky sigh. He doesn't say anything for a moment, but when he does finally speak, all he lets out is his violent tourettes.
'SHIT. FUCKING COCKSUCKER- OH SHIT.'
His head shook from side to side as he dropped the large tree branch. He growled in between each word, obviously attempting to hold it all in.

I bring the pipe back up into my hands and throw it over my shoulder, not caring about how messy the blood is going to make on my t-shirt. I take a step towards him and look down at the not-quite-dead body beneath us.

'Hm.'
I raise my arm and place it on his shoulder.
'I almost forgot how cool you were.'

He cusses again, stepping away from the two bodies. I can understand why he's all twitchy and all, but come on. Has he never seen a zombie movie before? Most of them are full of shit, yeah, but everyone's seen at least one of them in their life, surely.

'I've never killed anyone before, man!'

'Technically you haven't killed anyone. And who's gonna' find out anyway? The cops?' I scoff and begin to continue the route down the dark path.

I nod my head back and call out to him.
'Come on. There's gonna' be more of them soon if you don't hurry up.'

I hear him jump over the bodies on the floor and he soon catches up to me, forever holding a frantic facial expression.

We walk along the path and even though beating the shit out of the worst councillor in this town felt fucking amazing, I don't wanna get caught up like that again. I hate time wasting.

I slip out my cell from my jeans and try to call Token again. He fails to pick up so I stupidly see if Clyde is available. My luck tells me his phone has died, so I skim through my contacts, finding Tweek. I dial his number but I still receive no answer. I cuss, slipping it back into my pocket. I would try to call Bebe or Jimmy or something, but right now, I didn't particularly care. The only people I somewhat care about are my three friends. Oh and Thomas. He's still pretty cool.

He still goes to South Park High, but I never really see him around anymore. I think he goes to special classes in some lessons, because he still can't keep his ticks under control. I remember Tweek going to them for a short while, but unlike Tom, Tweek doesn't disrupt the class. So he got sent back to his daily routine, which I think he preferred.

But anyway.
The path doesn't continue for too long, and we eventually end up in the posh part of South Park. Why wealthy people want to spend their money in such a shit hole of a town like this, I don't know. But I'm glad, because I wouldn't have met Token otherwise. Normally I have huge hate for rich kids, because they turn out like spoilt little shits, but Token plays it safe. Sometimes, half of us don't even remember how loaded Token is at times. Until he holds a party, of course.

His street is just up ahead, but the area looks awkwardly quiet. Well, maybe not quiet, but the place definitely looks abandoned. I don't touch too much on the subject, so we use it as an advantage to cross the road. The Black residence is only, now, four houses down.

I swear to God if Clyde and that lot aren't here by the time we get there, I'm going to be annoyed. I hate waiting for people without knowing where they are or why they are being stalled.

And no, it's not a fucking anxiety problem before you make any assumptions.