Hello! It’s been so long since I’ve posted anything on this site. I blame the Prince of Persia Trilogy. I’m about to be spend my entire Spring Break playing Warrior Within.

But I digress.

I figured I’d return with a zombie comedy/romance/action/horror. Now, a warning is that I will be very graphic with the violence. What can I say? It’s what I do best. My friends are all afraid of me. It will also contain a large amount of cussing. Anyway, it won’t seem like a romance at first, but trust me. It will be. Now, enough with my lame-ass ranting, and on with the B-movie horror!

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Here, have a zombie.

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21, 27, 6.

I pulled on the doomsday device. No luck.

21, 27, 6.

Damn.

21, 27, 6.

Shitassdamnstupidmother-

21, 27, 6.

…

I kicked at my locker furiously, much to the amusement of the cute senior boy walking past.

“You listen here! You…you…stupid…lock! If you don’t open on this next try, I’ll…get the janitor!” I threatened. Two really tall girls walked past me, probably wondering whether they should call the guidance councilor.

Hey. Maybe he could open my locker for me.

21, 27, 6.

The late bell rang and it still wouldn’t open. I started yelling obscenities, and I guess the senior cheerleader walking by felt sorry for me, because with a sigh of annoyance, she took the lock and looked at me expectantly.

“21, 27, 6.” I mumbled lamely, embarrassed. She did the combination, and the lock clicked open. “Thanks.” I sighed in relief. She flipped her platinum blonde hair and crinkled her face in distaste.

“What are you wearing? Anyway, I just want to establish that you pretty much, like, totally owe me one.” She clicked her gum, and right then, I realized who had just helped me.

Clara. Rhine.

My brother had told tales of her before he ran off to New Zealand to attend some clothing design collage. Clara ruled the school since her sophomore year. Even my brother, who’d been a senior at the time, had occasionally done her bidding.

And now, apparently, I was too.

But, I was late. I didn’t have time to waste arguing.

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Thanks.” I quickly grabbed my math textbook and slammed the locker shut.

Day # 5 at Canal Fulton High.

My locker partner, my sort of friend Terry, had picked today of all days to come down with a merciless migraine, of course. I relied on her to open the locker. Freshman year was probably scarier than all…18 was it now? Of the Saw movies, and the little kid from the grudge put together.

You’d think that in a small town, the high schools wouldn’t be as large or as many people as a school in, say, New York, and that may be true, but the bitches made up for it by being 10x snottier. And now I was in dept to the snottiest of them all.

I barreled down the hallways at a frightening pace that even I didn’t know I was capable of. I turned the corner to room W105, hoping to be at least only 10 minutes late.

Instead I smashed right into the hard, wooden door.

I let out a very loud ‘oomph!’ as I fell to the ground, the contents of my backpack splayed all over the ground. Tampax and all on display. I lurched to my feet, grabbing all the contents of my bag and hastily stuffing them in. The teacher opened the door, sighing when he saw me, and then closed it, returning to his class.

I was still stuffing my bag when I heard the small squeak of a voice. He stood there, tinier than me, his black hair greasy and unkempt with large, square glasses slipping down his nose. He wore a button up long sleeve black collar shirt with blue jeans.

And he was holding the Tampax.

“Um. Is this yours?” He asked quietly.

Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitoh-

“Yeah.” I snatched it out of his hands. But he didn’t look embarrassed. He just shrugged and walked away. Then I realized.

He didn’t even know what it was.

The thought sent me into loud, obnoxious snorts. Not that attractive giggle that all the girls seem to have, but snorts. I ceased my noises and walked into the classroom. The first thing I noticed was Mr. Felix looking quite pissed off, and then I noticed the class, sniggering and snickering as I walked in.

Oh. They must have heard my head connect with the door.

I walked to my seat in the back and sat down, setting my bag on the ground and pulling out a sheet of loose-leaf.

“Today we’ll be learning what the length of pi is…”

I swear to god, sometimes I think a zombie invasion would be better than this.

--

Two painfully boring hours later, I find myself holding a brown paper bag, standing at the entrance of the bustling and crowded cafeteria. All the tables seemed to be filled with groups of friends who looked like they didn’t need another one, so I turned around and walked through the school until I reached the back doors and was swept up in the warm September air.

This year had been exceptionally warm for Ohio. Thank you, Global Warming! You come through for me every time!

I sat down by the heater. The only other people outside except for me were some of the popular kids, sitting on the grass smoking pot.

“Hey, Julia!” A sick looking Joey ran up to the group. I recognized him from my History class, which reminded me that I hadn’t even touched my homework from last night. I’d gotten swept up in the wonderful world of Prince of Persia.

Julia, queen of the group, looked up at him with lazy eyes. “Wassup, Joe?” She asked. Joey looked out of breath, looking sicker with every minute that passed.

“A…dude just…bit me!” He exclaimed between gasps for air.

“Whaaaat?” Julia asked. Joey held out his arm, and sure enough, a pair of bloody teeth marks were on his wrist.

“Dude.” Another girl in the group whispered in awe.

“Should I go get a rabies shot, or something?” Joey asked, his eyes frantic. Julia giggled.

‘It was probably just a cannibal. Relax, dude.” She waved him off, but Joey didn’t look any more at ease. I finished my sandwich quickly and walked back into the school.

--

I lazily watched as my woods teacher explained how to use a band saw-vertical while nearly getting his fingers caught in the progress. The only reason I even took woods was because you could bring Guitar Hero to class and the teacher wouldn’t notice. I changed songs on my brothers old MP3, scanning through all his old music. It was pretty much all I had left of him.

He didn’t even write, the bastard.

“Um, Delilah? Would you like to, um, give it a shot?” The teacher asked timidly.

“Not really.” I replied passively, looking back at the MP3 screen.

“Oh. Um. Okay. Josh?” He asked, turning to one of the school’s few punks. He had an orange Mohawk, his face lined with piercings.

“Hell yes!” He cried, jumping from his seat. His friends sniggered as he took control of the band saw.

“Okay, you just- Ah! Josh, no! Wait ‘til my fingers are out of the wa-“

--

I doodled in my notebook, still not paying attention to my history teacher. I don’t think I really cared about any of my classes except for drama, when my backstage sound person/camera/lights self came to life.

I looked around the classroom in boredom, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a green Joey. And I don’t mean just pale whiteish-green; I mean full-blown green as green. His eyes were rolling back in his sockets and I noticed an unusual twitchiness about him.

“Mr. Puff? Are you alright?” My history teacher, Mrs. Montague asked timidly. I wasn’t the only one noticing Joey’s current state

“Ughhn.” He replied, his mouth twitching. I swear to god I just saw drool drop out.

“Mr. Puff, do you need to see a nurse? You look rather…green.” Mrs. Montague tilted her head in curiosity at the sight of him. He looked like something out of a horror movie. He looked dead. He didn’t need a nurse, he didn’t a priest.

A few of the students stared at him, horrified, whilst people like Leesha Bee chatted noisily to their friends.

“My dad once said that I was like, sooo green that he almost drove me to the ER. I was so, so scared. I seriously thought I was going to, like, die!” Her friends nodded enthusiastically, as if not suffering from her prattles. Joey, however, was currently on the ground after falling from his chair, his mouth open wide along with his pupiless eyes with a hand on his heart. Rickie kicked him lightly with his foot, and got no response.

“Maybe he’s dead.” Rickie suggested, unbothered by this.

“Joey Puff! If this is some practical joke, I swear I’m getting the principal!” The frizzy haired teacher exclaimed. Rickie kicked him again.

“No, he’s defiantly dead.” Rickie elaborated. The teacher gasped, and ran out into the hallway.

“Mr. Dyck! Mr. Dyck! Call an ambulance!” She screeched to the principal. The kids gathered round the dead body.

“Ohmigod, this one time, I rode in an ambulance because I, like, was totally sick and depressed because I’m so deep, and they like, wanted to inject me with things, and I was sooooo scared!” Leesha told everyone.

“Whoa. She was depressed? She is so cool!” One girl shouted. I threw my hands on my head in frustration.

“A kid just died! Can you stop talking about yourself for one. Freaking. Second?” I cried. Leesha looked taken aback.

“Bitch!” She screamed, the rest of her friends bobbing their heads in agreement. “You don’t know me!”

“Yeah. You don’t know her!” He drone chimed in.

“I hate you!” Leesha sneered.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the reason why murder should be legal.

“Hey look! Joey just moved!” Rickie cried in amazement. My attention was moved from the girls who were now nodding in agreement about how much of a bitch I was, and directed at Joey, who was now once again twitching.

The classroom cheered and Rickie grabber Joey’s arm to pull him up off the ground. But when he pulled, he was met with the lovely sound of bones snapping. Rickie turned the same color as Joey.

“Oh…my….god! Dude! I-I’m sorry! Are you-ohmigod- are you okay?” Rickie started to freak out and dropped Joey’s limp and lifeless arm. Joey grumbled and moaned eerily.

“J-Joey?” I stammered. I backed away slowly while everyone else crowded around him. Joey stood up slowly.

“Dude, you look like the fucking undead! What the hell is wrong with you?” Livy, one of Joey’s friends cried out. Joey shuffled awkwardly and slowly towards Leesha. She stared at him, grinning with pride that the victim seemed to want her.

“Ohmigod, Joey, would you like me to take you to the nurses?” She asked sweetly.

“She’s so considering and kind.” He drone nodded knowingly to another drone. Joey picked up Leesha’s arm and she stared at him, confused.

“Joey?”

Then he bit her.

She screamed, high pitched and ear shattering. Joey started munching, and I heard the sickening noise of the cracking of bones and a mushy noise that was most likely blood. Leesha was still screaming, only now she was thrashing around. Joey released her, blood dripping all over his chin. He opening his mouth and more blood splattered onto the ground as it fell from his mouth.

The kids stood there, staring in absolute horror before breaking out into cried and panicked screams. I stood, frozen in place, just staring at Joey, who was moving towards whatever student was closest.

Oh wait, that was me.

I hightailed it the hell out of there, running down the hallway. I stopped for a brief moment and pulled the fire alarm. The noise of the siren blared, blocking out the screaming teenagers. All those years of fire-drills were laid to waste as students fled the building, not in an orderly fashion but running as fast as they could and shoving down anyone in their way. I saw a few kids get pushed to the ground and stomped on. I winced at the sound of their breaking bones. I risked a glance back, and saw Joey’s animated corpse turning the far corner. I quickly headed to the door, stumbling over kids with broken legs moaning in pain. I ran down a flight of stairs, tripping over the last five steps and falling, landing hard on the pavement. I pressed a hand to my eyebrow and when I pulled it away, warm red liquid covered my fingers. I stumbled to my feet and leaned against the locker as a herd of people ran down the stairs. This time the person chasing them slowly wasn’t Joey.

The infection was spreading, whatever the hell it was.

I decided now was the time to run, since the green kid had fallen down the stairs and was now struggling to his feet. The fall has caused most of his fingers to be bent in odd directions. I fled to the door, pulling it open with shaking fingers. Nobody seemed to be coming aside from the green dude. I inhaled the sweet afternoon air, a nice change from the stench of blood.

I slammed the door in the infected kids face, and it began to claw at the windows weakly, as if it had forgotten how to turn the handle of the door. I didn’t wait around to see if it would find a way out. I ran like hell down the car-less streets, 300 other teenagers running with me. Most were running to houses, knocking on the doors, begging to be let in. I had another place in mind. It was perfect. It was safe.

I felt a hand grip mine.

I screamed in terror, thrashing my arm around, slicing through the air with my fingernails.

“Ow! Watch it, bitch!”

I opened my eyes and saw Clara, wide-eyed and breathing heavily, gripping my arm with her too-long fingernails.

“What do you want?” I yelled, attempting to rip my arm out of her grip. I was starting to panic. What if the green cannibals were nearby?

“I need to go back in there and get my cell phone.”

I blinked. I might have laughed, had I not been so scared.

“Are you shitting me? There is no. fucking. Way. I am ever going back in there!” I screamed at her, ripping my arm out of her grip.

“But you owe me one!” She whined.

“Dude, you opened my locker. I thought I owe you as in, voting for you as class president, not risking my life by running into a school with god knows how many cannibals wandering around, just to get your cell phone!” I cried. She pouted.

“But it’s really, really expensive!”

“Look. I won’t get your cell phone, but I will lead to a safe place, okay?” I compromised. She thought about it.

“I guess.” She sighed. I rolled my eyes.

Stupid-stuck-up-skinny-twig-bitch.

I grabbed her arm, pulling her in the direction that many were flocking to. The mall. But they most likely weren’t headed to the place in the mall that I was. That room in the basement with the metal doors with the always full mini-fridge and the lock that’s almost impossible to break into.

Human resources.

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Phew. I always hate typing it out after I’ve written it out on paper. Well, I’m halfway through the second chapter already, so hopefully I’ll have that up soon.