It's 21.12.2012, and the world hasn't ended yet. I say that is just cause for celebration. Here's a short ficlet to commemorate, with a rather ironic subject matter...


The Day After

#22 zombies

Summary: The zombie apocalypse has arrived.

It was the apocalypse.

On a ship, a crew of zombies emerged from below deck, their feet dragging leadenly along the wooden floor. Their hair hung lank and damp over pallid faces and bloodshot eyes.

Their leader was particular grotesque, with blood red hair that did nothing to hide the three terrible scars over one eye. An observant onlooker would be able to detect that one of the sleeves of his stained white shirt was empty, fluttering lifelessly in the wind.

With a dreadful moan, the captain inched forward laboriously and promptly draped himself over the only human on the ship, who was standing at the center of the deck. The person's bravery was to be commended, for he made no move to escape from the clutches of that hellish creature.

The zombie leader, dangerously close to the human's unprotected right arm, opened his mouth.

"Benn… I need more sake…"

Shanks was completely ignored. Benn Beckman stoically continued to issue commands to the groaning crew.

"Benn…" His captain whined.

"Go take some hangover medicine."

"I don't wanna." Shanks pouted like a child. "It's bitter."

Benn shrugged. "Not my problem."

"Meanie."


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