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DISCLAIMER: This is inspired by the coronavirus outbreak but it NOT a true representation of events or my opinions. It is exaggerated purely for entertainment.

Enjoy…

The news came before lunchtime. All schools and businesses closed due to virus outbreak. It seemed ridiculous, unbelievable, insane. But there I was, staring at the announcement on my phone, dumbfounded. 

It took mere moments to sink in before I took a deep breath and did what needed to be done. That’s what I always did. What I always do no matter what disasters come my way. 

The undead were no different. I will survive the zombie apocalypse.

Day 1

You never believe it until you see it, the panic, the sheer madness of it all. The four horsemen have arrived in the form of Stupidity, Insanity, Panic, and Fuck-it-all-to-Hell. 

Seriously, people. Breathe. World needs some Thanos style purging anyway. I’m in the Fuck-it-all-to-hell category. Let the world burn and I’ll laugh while it does. I’ll be fine as long as the rum doesn’t run out.

I don’t really know what to do with myself. Just get drunk or get on with it, I guess, until I’m told otherwise. So that’s what I’m doing. Getting on with it. Going to work one last day and stocking up on essentials is my plan. Locking the doors and checking in regularly with the ‘rents is also a plan. They’re old, so they’re not likely to go anywhere right now. Meh, they’ll be fine. 

Day 3

Sunday morning sounds awful quiet compared to the usual weedwhackers and tractors waking me up at eight. ON A SUNDAY!!!  No matter. I’m busy with pottering and potting plants on the terrace since. Then for something useful like… maybe wrapping tinfoil around my head so the zombies can’t smell the brains. 

Day 4

Toilet paper is oddly low for some reason. Brains and arses are kinda far apart… for most. So wtf is toilet paper gonna do to protect against zombies? Maybe people believe they can scare off the virus by wrapping themselves up as mummies, which are just Egyptian zombies anyway. But they ruled stuff, so they might have some authority over regular zombies. Who knows? 

Day 6

Streets are quiet, school roads are empty, and there’s the eeriness of brain-eaters on the horizon. Then I see the stragglers, loiterers and shufflers as I drive past. Ugh, they look like they need some serious skincare already. Poor things. They just glare at me with no obvious intention of eating my brain. Good. I like my brain and would like to keep it. 

Day 8

I ate the last of my salad leaves today. No leafy goodness for me. Civil Guard is escorting people about in their own mini hordes for food and essentials. Shufflers follow at a distance, not really aware that fresh brains are just a few metres away. The Civil Guard keeps close, guns in holsters and eyes warily on the shufflers. Orange sprayed lines seem to distract the shufflers. Not sure why and don’t care. It works. I should pretend to be one too so I don’t get mistaken for a person who actually wants to talk about it.

Day 12

I braved the world again. Should’ve stayed home. The town is deserted, only the occasional Civil Guard vehicle. Supermarkets are heavily guarded to protect from the shufflers. Us “normal” folk aren’t doing as we’re told much. At least some aren’t. I laughed at a girl boasting about taunting the shufflers only to become one herself. Others lick what the shufflers touch in daring games of zombie roulette. Honestly, they want to become a shuffler, go ahead. The Civil Guard will soon lock them away or keep them from the rest of us. 

Humanity is crafting its own demise. Fuck it all to hell, right?

Except some of us would like to survive this. Some of us want to keep our brains intact. So no licking random objects for me. I’ll brave the outdoors when I run out of rum and not a moment sooner.

Day 14

Uh, oh. Shufflers are next door. Dumb idiot neighbour got herself infected. I’m never leaving the flat again. Except for rum. Then maybe I’ll leave. Stupid cow probably infected her mum who lives on the ground floor of my building. Oops. 

I thought about checking on the ‘rents. Meh, they’re alive in a community of other old folk, who are content to stay put and live off the land. They could always steal one of their neighbour’s sheep if things get desperate. Mum’s favourite is lamb. Not sure Dad could handle slaughtering though. 

Oh well, time to watch Resident Evil and hope I don’t see mutant dragons flying outside the window.

Day 20

It’s got worse. My town is now dead, my street is constantly empty, and my building lacks its usually Easter visitors. Fuck knows why people want to travel right now anyway, but they are. Dumb fuckers. Serves them right if they get zombified, except they bring the zombie virus here, too. 

More rum for me.

Day 28

Gas masks, people! 

Honestly, it helps distinguish the uninfected from the shufflers. 

Day 36

Of all the times to protest. They’re in the streets with “Save the Shufflers” banners. I feel bad for them, shunned because of their skin. I mean, sure they’re contagious, but that doesn’t mean they’re not people too. 

Day 42

Found a kitten on the street. Took it in for safety. Poor little thing hid under the bed all evening. She’s eating well though. 

Day 50

Karen keeps complaining about the mask. Go on, Karen. See how long you last without it. Stupid woman thinks it’s oppression. Hah. Entitled bitch doesn’t know what oppression it. Neither do I really. But I know it’s nothing to do with wearing a fucking mask during a virus outbreak. 

More comming soon…