𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐔𝐍 :: 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣

⪼ 𝙯𝙚𝙧𝙤 ⪻

chan had been used to seeing corpses lying dead on the streets with their guts hanging from their bodies and heads smashed and melted onto the asphalt. he had been used to seeing rotten bodies with limbs torn apart and unattached from their roots lying in pools of dried blood. he had been used to seeing half eaten people in the middle of the street just lying there soundlessly with their jaws ripped apart and necks and carotids bursted open.

he had been used to seeing not alive but not dead either people crawling on the streets,  groaning, hissing, snarling, throwing up acid. he was used to seeing them running and rending alive people to shreds, either killing them on the spot or turning them into what they themselves were. he was used to seeing these zombies rotting under the sun after being left alone in abandoned cities for too long without any alive human to attack and fresh flesh to feed from still standing on their weak legs or crawling on the floor with broken limbs and guts exposed.

he had been used to all the gore. all the blood. all the rot. all the death.

what he hadn't been used to was the silence that surrounded everything after the "spark". after the three years that had passed and the few survivors were hiding in the safety bases the army had managed to build last moment, the places they had left behind fell into silence.

no one was alive in those cities. or the villages. or the streets. no one could be alive. the only things still existing in those places were these ravenous zombies but even these were too weak to actually be capable of attacking and threatening someone's life.

the army had bombed the cities with the most cases, including gimpo, the one that started it all.

after the bombs, the government had made sure that there were no survivors in these cities. most of the zombies were also dead but there were still plenty of them wandering around, hence why people were still huddled in the safety districts as they called the bases where the survivors were kept.

but even there, no one was actually living a decent life. most of the survivors stayed at the streets alone, dirty and starving. the ones with the most money got to live in hotel rooms, jail rooms or whatever else had the potential to provide people with rooms to stay at. most rooms had five to ten people living all together but even that was better than living in the streets.

the luckiest ones, or the ones with the more money, had room for themselves. they had unlimited access to food, cleaning products and basically every other basic necessities they could possibly need.

the poor on the other hand, if they were lucky, they had access to a bowl of leftovers the rich had left for them that was given to them once a week. the only thing they had unlimited access to was water. at least the government had made sure not to monopolize that too.

chan was one of the people that lived in a hotel room along with six other strangers. he wasn't rich but he wasn't a destitute either. he had enough money to afford a room in a hotel. and the other six people that lived with him had too.

chan was a soldier. or a former soldier. when he was in the army he had almost been recruited to fight against the zombies but the injury he had gotten on his leg after getting shot by someone had prevented that. he was lucky, if he had joined he wouldn't have made it out alive probably.

after the "spark" and his arrival in the safety district 9, the quarantine zone he was staying at, he became a finder. finders were people that went outside once per month to look for food or even people that were surviving in the dilapidated areas and brought them back in.

he wasn't getting paid well enough to put his life at risk every thirty days but he didn't really care. he didn't have anything to live for anymore anyway. no purpose. no reason. at least that job made him feel a little bit useful.