Devilbesideyou666

I see dead people. 

But hey, it’s the zombie apocalypse, everyone is seeing dead people, including a blind girl. It’s not like I am that special. 

For a while, I thought I was going to be Cinderella, complete with the cruel stepfamily and the little mice for helpers. But instead of mice, I got demons from hell with a taste for chaos.

Then again, there is nothing wrong with a little chaos in the middle of the apocalypse. It’s what makes life worth living. 

Unfortunately for others, they don’t quite see it that way. You see, I have a gift. One that isn’t exactly mine, but I can use it however I see fit. 

My gift is granting wishes. 

I'm a genie without a bottle, but it would be nice if people appreciated me more. All the humans ask for is the same thing… more food here, shelter there, kill these people, torture those. And I do it all, for a small price. 

I don’t ask for money or food, I can get that on my own. No, I want favors, souls, something that means everything for the other person. And they give it to me. Their momentary desire worth their long term happiness. 

But by the time they discover that, I’m long gone, already moved on to my next… client.

I know I look young, starvation and abuse will do that to a girl. Humans tell me that I shouldn’t be wandering out there alone. Some try to help me… most don’t. But whoever said I was by myself? Just because others couldn’t see them didn’t mean my demons ever left. I still hear their voices in my head, whispering words of encouragement and love. For them, I’d do anything. Kill anyone. Destroy anything. 

After all, life is just a game, right? Those still alive at the end of the day were the lucky ones. Those who died were not. Everything is just a game of chance, all a human has to do is roll the dice.

My only word of advice is to be careful what you wish for… you just might get it.

My name is Hattie, welcome to my world. 

Would you like a cup of tea?

Be Careful What You Wish For: A Zombie Apocalypse

I didn't do mornings. Or at least not willingly.

You would think that the number of times I had to be up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast made, laundry going, and the cleaning started, I would be used to it.

But no, I hated mornings with a passion.

And yet, the good doctor seemed to love them.

I didn't even have to open my eyes to know that he was practically bouncing on his fancy shoes or that there was a giant smile on his face as he watched me. No, I could feel that shit from where I was.

And all without coffee in him. It was sickening.

"Do you enjoy watching someone sleep, doctor?" I asked, my voice raspier than I intended. However, at this ungodly hour, he was lucky I was actually speaking.

"You would be the first," he admitted, the soles of his shoes hardly making any noise. In fact, if I hadn't been so trained to wake up at the slightest disturbance, I might not have even known he was there.

Harassment