By: Benjamin He

SERAPH:

S: ‘Can I start again this time without being interrupted? Thank you.’

Ok…where was I again?

Right.

Zombies attack a bus, a girl dies, and now we’re surrounded. Typical Seraph luck. On with the story!

The frog-zombies were pounding on the windows, their arms strong enough to rip through the metal of the bus and slowly barge their way in. I dove back under my hiding spot. Fortunately, I had a good enough view of everything that transpired to turn it into a worthy story.

Then the first long-limbed zombie broke in and then clamped his jaws down on multiple people, causing them to collapse to the floor, screaming and writhing. A woman wearing a motorcycle helmet tried to slip past it, but it didn’t appreciate that, instead deciding to satisfy its craving for human flesh.

As the zombie tore her open, I spotted that kid with the huge backpack from earlier, stumbling away from another one. It leapt at him as he ran for the door.

His backpack was what saved him. Instead of his neck, the zombie sank its teeth into nylon. The kid tumbled out the door.

I was so invested in watching this fool(‘Hey!’) that I didn’t notice another one creeping up on me. The frog missed its first bite, which was miraculously lucky for me.

I ducked out of the way and headed for the door as well. The frogs opted to stay inside and continue chomping on everyone still inside.

So I ran. I ducked into an alleyway before hopping the fence in the back, then racing down the empty street before taking another turn. And another. And another. Soon enough, I had ducked into another alleyway, and curled up into this little corner an-(‘YO! MY TURN!’)

TAY:

Hey! Is this thing on? (P/S: ‘No’) Shut up! I can see the blinking light, y’know.

Okay, so I think I’m supposed to document everything that’s happened in the apocalypse until up to this point, so…here goes nothing.

Before the apocalypse, I used to live in a household with my younger sister. Unfortunately, I still do (L: ‘hey…’). I lived in this part of town called Birchwood Hills, with my parents, 3 minnows named Newton, Melon, and Endy, from biggest to smallest, a white persian cat named Joe, and a dog called Petey.

My parents had left us with a babysitter while they were in Hawaii for some big romantic getaway, and that’s when it happened. Our city wasn’t due for evacuation until next month, but that proved itself too late.

Our high-school babysitter, Eulalia, was sitting on the couch, watching Bridezilla. My sister, Lina, was fussing over our three fish. Their water hadn’t been replaced in a couple weeks and it was starting to smell pretty bad. They weren’t in a proper aquarium either, instead residing in some sort of triangular bowl.

Lina was using tap water conditioner on some cups she had filled. Petey was taking a nap, while Joe was busying chowing down on her bowl of cat food (T: ‘Yes Joe is a she.’)

I, meanwhile, was tinkering. For a while now, I had been trying to make something that could transport my cat with me, and then came up with the idea of attaching a pouch bag to my belt.

I had spent weeks on it, and this was about prototype number 8. Joe mewled, irritated, as I lifted her from her meal and stuck her in the pouch. She fit perfectly, her upper-half sticking out of the bag. She purred, then decided to take a nap.

I ran over to help Lina with the fish, which resulted in a lot of clunking. “Will you kids keep it down?” Eulalia shouted. “I’m trying to watch something here!”

Just then there was a knock on the door.

Eulalia grunted and sighed. “God, I’m just trying to watch TV…”

She stood up, and, after making the treacherous journey from the living room to the front door, looked out the peephole. Then she gasped, all signs of her former irritation gone. Then Eulalia actually locked the door.

She ran from the hall back to the living room, where she sat down against a wall and started muttering about how she was “safe here,” whatever that meant. Lina finished up with the fish and headed to where Eulalia was, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Eulalia didn’t even seem to hear her. She just kept talking to herself about how safe she was. Then a zombie ran into our backyard. I knew the zombie. She was a friend of Eulalia’s, currently dressed in one of those short pink hoodies.

The weirdest part was that she didn’t really look different from when she was, well, alive, other than the veins in her throat. I think her name was Helena, or something. Anyway, Helena saw us through the glass doors leading to our backyard, bared her teeth, and rammed full force into the door, shattering it. Lina backed away, before panicking and grabbing the fish bowl.

She took the fish deeper into the house while I, being of the quick-witted, noble hero I am, gawked at Helena. Eulalia got up on her knees and had about the same reaction I did. Unfortunately for her, Helena decided she was closer, and cracked her across the face with a fist. Eulalia’s face slammed into the wall, a thin line of blood flying across the room.

Her face hit the wooden floor, her neck at an odd angle.

Ah…great.

Helena turned back to me, prepared to do the same thing. If Petey hadn’t intervened. He left on her, growling and biting, slashing her throat. She died. Then more zombies lumbered into our backyard.

“Crap!” I finally shouted, only I didn’t say ‘crap.’

Petey backed off, running back into the house. I followed.

We both bounded up the stairs, Joe mewling with each step. I forgot she was there…

(

T: ‘Eh. That’s all I have breath for today.’

P: ‘What? We’ve gotta keep up with the schedule.’

T: ‘Parry, it’s eleven A.M. and everyone has gone to bed.’

P: ‘Fine. But we start first thing tomorrow.’

)