Zore330

I remember it like it was yesterday. The heart-wrenching screams, cries for help, and blood so much blood. 

The day was August 10, 2026, I had just gotten my lunch from the cafeteria when I  noticed something peculiar. Various parts of the city were creating smoke as if fires had been lit, how I wish I didn't ignore them, how I wish I could have taken action that moment but I couldn't, and that's why I lost you. 

It only took a moment and everyone was in panic, right before my eyes was a scene I'd only ever seen in movies. They limped toward us and tore us to pieces, I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it but it was true. 

I watched as one took a bite from you and watched as you turned to one of them. I still can't believe my hands were the ones that took you out. And I still can't believe you're gone.

The walking plague

Hannah's high-pitched scream shattered the eerie silence, causing Oliver and me to snap our heads toward her.

"Z-z-zombies. This can't be real. No, no, no," she screamed in panic, her voice trembling. "We're gonna die, all of us. No, it's fake—all of this."

"Shut up," Oliver said through gritted teeth. His usual composure was strained, adding an unexpected intensity to his character. However, I couldn't help but notice how my hands were trembling, too. Was I... scared?

I was terrified. Fear gripped my heart, threatening to shatter my sanity, but I refused to let it. I turned away from Oliver to face the still-mortified Hannah. Clenching my left hand into a fist, I tried to ground myself. Then, I did what any sensible person would do. I loved Hannah, but this was for her own good.

My hand slid across her cheek, leaving a red mark. The slap resonated through the chaos, and I was sure even the zombies heard it.

"Calm down, or you'll get us killed," I said, avoiding her eyes. "We're going to survive, Hannah. We'll get out of here. I won't let those things kill me." I declared, my gaze fixed on the horde that had breached the exit. It seemed like everyone who had rushed to the main door was now dead.

"What do we do?" Oliver asked, still tense.

"Survive," I answered. "We should head for the fire exits or the back exit. I suppose they would be less crowded than that," I said, referring to the front entrance.

"So we're going out there unarmed," Oliver said with a hint of sarcasm.

"The hockey team keeps their sticks in room thirty, not far from here," I suggested.

"So that's your big idea, hockey sticks," Oliver snapped at me.

"It's better than our bare hands," I countered, and he just sighed, heading to the door. I grabbed Hannah and followed behind.

The hallways on the third floor were still clear. Lucky us.

Survive... no matter what