Prologue
Before...
A/N Hi, a new universe (the WWS is not finished by the way, just am on a pause I guess.) This will be abbreviated as LGOE, hopefully will end up following the Last Man on Earth series structure for 6 seasons, that's the goal anyway. Each season will be its own story, look out for more on the way.
New York City, New York, Pre-virus Earth 2019
Derek looked down at his watch, then the clock, then at the client sitting opposite him. The man in question was a walking suit, uptight and stiff. Derek smiled through his boredom, he knew he should've been paying attention to what the client wanted but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He could hear the low ticking of the clock on the wall above the suit's dull tone, the monotonous beating of his own heart as his pulse raged inside his wrists. The anger bubbled to the surface every time he thought about it - how could she do it? How could she have been in such a place as to sleep with another man? The thought that he'd pushed her into doing it made the anger return. The usual low hum of his fury would boil deep inside of him, but now it was overflowing. Hubble bubble toil and trouble, the cauldron scream.
Derek had a good job - he'd worked hard, worked himself up from the bottom of the rung, from the business man of a father to the successes of his sisters, he grew out of the ashes of the wreck their mother attempted to drag them up in and he'd made it on his own. Addison had come along with a house, and a car and an inheritance of her own and before long they were living with the highs of New York society on the Upper East side. Every morning the house keeper would raise him from his bed with a enticing buzz provided by steaming coffee. Then he would slip his feet into grandpa slippers and eat a breakfast of boiled eggs. It was an easy life, everything had swept him up and now it was ten years later and he was stuck in a rut. Addison was bored of him, she was leaving him, she was sleeping with another man and she was leaving him.
The ticking rose up to his periphery, each aching moment he couldn't scream at Addison was eating into his patience. He shook his head as the suit drilled on about his goals and figures for the year, his hands shook into a tremor and he rose from his chair. The suit stopped talking and paused as he turned to ask what the problem was. Derek pulled his tie away from his shirt collar and popped his top button, the cauldron bubbled and boiled until he couldn't stand it anymore. He shook his head at the suit and made his quick apologies, the door slamming into the hinge as he pounded his feet down the hallway. His face blushed into a deep crimson-purple - the colour of bright beetroots and purple carrots, he was the market stall of angry husbands. He was the CEO of his own company for Gol's sake - he was successful, he had his own life, and his wife was leaving him.
As he waltzed out of his building he took a deep breath of fresh air and pulled his tie completely away from his neck. His face was still a blotchy rash of colour and his teeth gritted as he bent over, breathing a hard rough rush of air from the bottom of his lungs. When he straightened up he glanced over the side of the road and saw the first of them...
The blood was apparent immediately, the homeless man on the other side of the street was spluttering his insides into his grubby hands. He looked down at the red and sighed a deep deathful whistle; letting his body relax into the wall, his eyes sinking back into his skull. The death overcoming him.
