Too Much Zombies For Me

There once existed a man. A man who wrecked chaos on the paths he walked on. With the number of people he's slaughtered, each of his footsteps leave behind a bloodied scent. Each of his movements seem to be made with certain precision or care, as if he's done the same movement a number of times that couldn't be counted.

His renown spread far and wide. His stories were told to kids as a sort of folk tale. "A man who once dominated an entire empire in solo battle." "A man who's domesticated the Dragonics' own king." "A man who's very feces was sold for millions of credits!"

He's had his stories spread through every crevice on the very planet he stood on. The law couldn't restrict it, in fear of bringing themselves on what they liked to call the "X List". A list of existences that made themselves an enemy to that man. In essence, a list of organizations or people that were all ended. He was thought to be able to defy the very fundamental laws existence placed on their planet.

They called him The Sky Breaker. The man that can do anything within the realm of existence and beyond.

…

In a pitch black empty plain, sat an old man. In front of a "water gun" he announces, "The deed is done. 039 and 040 will arrive in 8 moments." With a raspy voice, after repeating the announcement, he sighs and says, "The Tretors were always known to be stupid." He then stands up from his terrible sitting posture. He walks into the darkness and returns after around a minute and a half with a 12 oz bottle of what looks like grape juice.

He sits back down and his eyes seem to be fixed onto staring into the darkness.

He suddenly laughs and takes a gulp of the juice. Wiping his mouth, he remarks, "That's good. 037 and 038 are lucky. We can probably get some of that. Wait… I can get some of that! A better pay sounds good." He smiles while thinking of a plan.

…

On the floor in a dark gray kitchen sat Jake laying his head against a wall staring at another wall. He felt next to no pain, but looking at Mohammed he feels like he feels the same pain. Or at least, a similar pain. Jake knows best that you can only truly understand something only once you've experienced it. His literal death is how he knows death best. He's felt pure emptiness and a feeling of being lost from existence. His emotions blank with his consciousness seemingly in a permanent calm yet aggregated state.

He remembers that when he came to be in the unknown dark plain world with his "spirit", he instantly felt unknown anger for someone bringing his consciousness back. When snapping to reality, he caught on to the situation, but that anger has always remained lingering in his head. 'Why would I even feel such anger for being alive?' He thought about that question a lot.

Soon, though, Mohammed woke up to Jake's face staring down at him. Mohammed looked at Jake before inhaling sharply, feeling the stinging on his left leg's injury.

"I rubbed some alcohol on it." Jake blinked.

Mohammed clicked his tongue. "Got it."

They were both lost. They couldn't think of any clue as to what to do. Mohammed slid over with his hands and laid next to Jake with his head against the wall as well.

Lost in thought, Mohammed turns to inspect his injury. The nails were still stuck in, but there was next to no blood on his leg. Seeing the nails still there, he turns to Jake in confusion.

Jake, who was following his gaze, noticed it and responded acutely. "I don't know if it would do something bad." He shrugged then added, "If I pulled it out, I'm sure it'd make you bleed more; and I'm also sure losing more wouldn't be for the best."

Mohammed then asked, "H-how bout the room? Why is it gray?"

Noticing the small stutter and the pain that distorted Mohammed's face, Jake smiled attempting to hide away the sadness he felt for Mohammed. "I'm not sure either, but if you hadn't gotten that last zombie, we wouldn't have been able to see this gray change."

'If it weren't for your friend over here being too scared, you wouldn't have been injured so terribly, too.' Jake added inwardly.

"Heh, aren't I awesome?!" Mohammed exclaims.

Agreeing with a smile, Jake looks off into the window and the sky.

Behind him, Mohammed continues, "Do you think they'd drop loot for us?" Mohammed's stomach grumbles, then he corrects, "Do you think they'd drop food for us?"

The fog remained, but so did their light. They, at first, when entering thought the fog was covering the sky, but now, noticing some fog fading here and there, Jake realizes they were in a big dome of some kind. The lighting source now was visible. Jake noticed the light from the ceiling above them was from some very strong ceiling lights that traveled and covered such a large area.

But now, the same light was less visible and now the street lamps that hung relatively high were lit on with a fire at the same time.

A signal it was now night.

Jake then answers, "We haven't even checked the fridges, yet. There should be at least some ingredients there. It's just been chaos this entire time that we haven't even thought of that." Both growing up with busy parents, Jake and Mohammed knew how to cook. While in the process of standing up, Jake eyes the fridge down in hunger. He opens the fridge slowly, hoping that'd bring more food to him somehow.

Then suddenly sounds of rumbling came from upstairs. To Jake and Mohammed, it was like there were tons of people sleeping before and, at the same time, they woke up and did jumping jacks.

Jake and Mohammed exchange looks with lingering fear of facing more zombies. They slowly were creeping into the farthest corner from the entrance subconsciously.

The rumbling slowly stopped. Then the sounds coming to Jake and Mohammed signaled that they were all falling down the stairs altogether. Then with the same speed as before, they walked towards the kitchen.

Mohammed's heart was palpitating. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth before attempting to stand up.

Jake comes over to help him up, then whispers into his ear, "Wait. I think we'll be fine. I don't think they're coming for us."

Mohammed widens his eyes in confusion and looks over to Jake. Jake's eyes reflected a certain calm as if a lake during a dark night. Mohammed nods.

Jake and Mohammed once again were getting battle-ready. Jake was bait and Mohammed was going to stab their heads.

Soon enough, the zombies arrived near the entrance. Jake sees the zombies and his heart skips a beat. He steels up his heart and makes sure he's ready for any possible problems like last time.

But instead the zombies walk past the kitchen like normal people before opening the door. Though, some of the zombies bat an eye towards Jake before grunting in a very human like manner. The instant each of the zombies exit the house they go on all fours onto the street and crawl at the speed of a car. Jake looks out the window and sees that coming out of each house were zombies doing the same thing.

Jake furrows his brows and watches the movement of each zombie in contemplation. He starts thinking before saying, "Let's quickly use this time to eat and sleep. I think they're going to work or something."

Mohamed lets out a loud self-deprecating laugh. "What the hell is happening man? Zombies… going to work? You hear what you're saying right now, right?"

Jake sighs. He mumbles, "I just want to go home."

Going back to the fridge, Jake opens up to find more than enough ingredients. He picks up a lot of eggs, cheese and milk. He starts making some sunny side up eggs while thinking of his family.

Mohammed although would normally love to lean against the wall and watch or assist Jake, he is injured, so he goes to sit on a chair.

Although before he was criticizing Jake's idea of zombies working, so his laugh was seemingly associated with that, Mohammed was laughing at the idea of sleeping. With the intense pain he was feeling right now, it was like he was walking around with a sword through his body. A good sleep sounded otherworldly to him right now.

Mohammed sat down massaging his temples and gritting his teeth. He looked out the window. Even though the street lights were on, the light seemed a lot less visible than would be expected. The fog was a lot heavier than before.

'Can we do this?'