When the world went dark without a note nor whisper, I didn't care. The end of the world is just an ending. A book is bound to be finished once opened. This is just the same. It is simply the end to an entertaining story that has gone on for billions of pages.
Looking at the silent, dark streets, nothing changed inside of me. I signed, and grabbed my frying pan. "Damnit," said I, "Why did it have to be today?"
I opened my door, and looked around. Silence. Most people would be panicked. Most people were probably walking with a blank stare.
I casually walked to the emergency stairs, waiting. Listening. Hoping for a being who's figure is so grotesque that it would make a mortician question if they were in hell. I knew this was the end of the world. I felt the readers growing restless. I walked down the stairs.
Every movement I made caused the tension to build. But I held a smile. I'm what you would call a freak. Not a sociopath, not a masochist, just a freak of nature. An abomination. Every time I got into a fight as a kid, I felt free… but seeing the other party sobbing with a bloodied noise left me in my guilt. If this is the end, let there be monsters. Demons. Creatures so horrifying and terrific that they'd haunt one's dreams and make this a living hell. I don't want to feel guilty for my freedom.
My grin kept getting bigger the longer the silence lasted. At last, I heard a noise. It was so faint that anyone would have mistaken it from their own steps on a concrete floor. But I heard it. It was a quiet breath. A quiet breath that lacked the control of a human. It was a beast. I swung my frying pan at it's head, and I felt it hit something hard. The vibrations caused me to drop the pan. I took at my phone and turned on a flashlight. A total of eight eyed watched me, glowing with a slight, red hue. And everyone one of them was a human. Used to be a human. I looked at the floor and saw one of their heads was caved in, my frying pan next to it. I felt a fire burning in my soul, as if I had a new motivation to live and survive.
These beasts acted. Two of the closest lunged at me, the other six stood to the side. Waiting. Listening. Analyzing.
I looked at the two closest, and, given my high ground advantage, I kicked out and struck one of their mouths. Once my foot was pulled away, I saw that their bleeding teeth were pushed in and broken, rendering them inadequate to survive. The other grabbed my leg at I was pulling it back. What happened after is still a subject of curiosity, as I appeared behind their body, and their head was twisted in a way it shouldn't have been. Something was gone, but I didn't care enough to look for it, and now I will never be able to figure out what had happened.
Looking at the six in front of me, something finally clicked. "Is he okay..?"
One month ago.
I met someone who went by Sage. I could've just asked him for his name first. I regret it, since it took me a couple days to find it. We meet at a local bar. He ordered pretzels, I got beer. We shared, and he smiled. It was the kind that could light up a room full of hopelessness. One that made every part of me feel a complete fondness of him. That night, he claimed ownership of my soul with that one smile. If he dies, I die with him.
My grin faltered and was replaced by an unsightly glare. I was on the ground, so I looked at the corpse by my foot, and grabbed it by the hair.
"If you mother fuckers want to fight, I'll fight." I twisted it's skull until the head became detached from it's torso. I grabbed it's unusually long hair, and started swinging the head around, waiting for one to come at me. One finally did without the slightest hesitation. It fumbled about for a second before gaining balance and sprinted towards me. I swung the head like a flail, and hit them. Of course, being just a head as a weapon, not much damage was done. I knew this neighbor of mine wasn't smart.
So, with the zombie momentarily knocked off kilter, I jumped forward, grabbed the back of their head, and hit their head against the floor. By the end, it was a paste made of bone, brain matter, hair, and skin. If anything gets between me and him, they're dead. Standing up, I saw something I didn't expect to see from the undead. Respect. The five zombies cleared a path for me, as if they were saying I passed a test.
Knowing full well that time was off the essence, I picked up my frying pan, and ran. I opened the door, and nodded at the undead, who in turn ignored me and walked up the stairs. I looked through the quiet night. An unbroken silence.
I walked forward, pacing my breaths. Every now and then, I saw survivors. Some walked up to me and tried to block my way. Their corpse was unrecognizable. If a zombie showed signs of intelligence, humans were no different.
I finally saw a house I have been visiting for the past month. "Sage…"
Tears were streaming down my face. That smile was all I want to see at the end of the world. At the end of a book only fit for the gods to read. I dropped my pan, which now has dents in it and painted with blood. Looking at my hands, I decided that he was not deserving of my current attire. He was only deserving of caviar served by the royalties of the days of old.
I sighed, and with nothing better to do, I looked for a corpse nearby.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are…" A smile was forming on my tear-stricken face. I was finally about to see him.
Within seconds, a zombie appeared around the corner. They obviously didn't care for my appearance.
"Mind giving me your clothes?" I asked. No verbal response came as they stared at me, unmoving.
"…Bastard, I've done the test. If you aren't going to give me you clothes, point out a corpse with the finest outfit of the lands." The zombie finally acted, but contrary to expectation, they spoke. A horrible, broken voice was projected outwards.
"You who have come beyond humanity, what do you search for?"
"Clothes."
"You who have come beyond humanity, what do you search for."
"… Give me some clothes."
"You who have—"
"If you ask that one more time, you will die a horrible, painful death. Get me clothes."
The zombie left abruptly, and later pulled back a corpse wearing a tuxedo. I nodded, and approached. "Thank you," I said, exhausted.
I stripped the corpse for it's clothes while the zombie watched, emotionless.
"… What are you, a pervert? It's uncomfortable enough asking for clothes, much less having you stare." They looked away, and I started putting on the tuxedo. Because my hair was a mess, I stabbed the body with a stick, and used it's blood like hair gel.
I breathed out a sigh. "Time to see him. How do I look?"
The zombie started blankly at me.
I shook my head, and looked at my reflection in a window. Sharp. As long as it doesn't rain, he won't be frightened.
Finally, I walked forward towards the house. Taking a deep breath, I knocked.
"Sage, are you there?"
No response.
"Hello?"
…
I sat down at his doorstep, looking at the ground.
"Zombie."
The walking corpse appeared from the corner.
"Did anyone leave this house yet?"
"No." The zombie showed some emotion, though too little to notice.
"He must be asleep. That's all. He's as hard to wake up as it is to move an ox. Can you keep me company?"
The zombie stayed silent, but didn't move. I couldn't tell what it was thinking.
"When you asked that earlier, tell me what you meant when you said beyond humanity."
Silence. The zombie didn't say anything.
Looking up from the ground, I glanced at the zombie. They were salivating.
"… Oh, I've become you."
The zombie nodded. I looked down.
"What happened to him?"
The zombie took steps closer, and eventually stopped in front of me.