Undead Love - An Original Zombie Survival Romance Story

Chapter 1

[TW:
GORE
FOUL LANGUAGE
DISSOCIATION/DEREALIZATION
PTSD
FLASHBACKS
GUNS]

Jones wiped the brown blood splatters from his face, spitting just in case he got some in his mouth. The rotting flesh at his feet seemed to melt into the dirt, making him groan in disgust. He hated how gross and dirty the infected were, but he didn’t have much room to complain.

Unfortunately, he’d left Ghost- the infected cat he’d found when it all started- at his shelter. Her paw had fallen off so she was not fit for travel. He needed more bandages to fix her paw temporarily. The rotting flesh of a cat was difficult and, well, annoying to have to deal with. He had to figure out a way to replace her…

Jones shook off his wandering thoughts and got back to the task at hand- finding a place to grab or barter for some bandages.

He pulled himself onto a roof to get a better look at the landscape. It was foreign to him- he’d never been to the area before. Looking around, he decided to travel by roof, carefully jumping from abandoned building to abandoned building.

When he heard the guttural cries of an infected, his grip on his bloody and stained bat tightened and turned towards the sound. He hadn’t even noticed a few buildings away to his side, a small, makeshift shelter stood on the crown of the rotting cement. A small girl a few feet away from it kicked and cursed at a rotting body before taking a breath and turning to crawl into their shelter.

Jones watched the shelter for a few seconds before the girl rushed back out in a hurry with a bag. Supply run? He had to follow.

Jones was careful to be quiet and hidden as he followed the girl to an abandoned supermarket. It was still plentifully stocked. Jackpot. Once the other survivor was occupied, Jones rushed to pack his satchel with as many first-aid supplies as possible. When he passed the feminine product aisle, he paused. It was weird how alone they seemed, like himself.

—

Kingsley pulled himself onto the top of a small building, kicking a zombie in the head and yelling small curses at it. He pushed it off and lay on the roof for a second, letting out heavy breaths before crawling into his makeshift shelter made out of cloth and tarps he’d found around the city. He crawled up into the sleeping bag he’d brought from his old house. He hated that sleeping bag. It reminded him too much of the past and all the things his mother called him.

He shook his head, his long hair whipping into his face, letting out an angry groan and turning onto his back, looking up at the tarped sky. He closed his eyes for a minute and his stomach started hurting.

“Darn it! Not now! It’s already been a month?!” He said pushing out of the sleeping bag.

It was just as he feared, red had stained the inside of the sleeping bag- his period. A curse left his lips, he wasn’t able to transition before the apocalypse, and now there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to at all. He threw the sleeping bag aside and rummaged through the backpack he had also brought with him from his home in the suburbs of the city. He rummaged through his bag and didn’t find anything, he had used every feminine product he had brought on wounds and water. He groaned in anger and stood, grabbing his bag. He left his shelter and ran along the roofs to a supermarket he’d seen on his way to his home.

He made it down to the streets and quietly, breezed past several zombies, his hair hitting his back violently as he ran and his eyes racing to each object that moved near him. He made it to the supermarket without any trouble, but he noticed that the glass doors were smashed. He walked into the store, searching the aisles for feminine products. When he finally found it, he stuffed his bag with as much as he could carry.

“You know, I don’t see many pretty girls around these parts…” an unknown voice spoke up behind him.

Kingsley jumped and spilled half of the products on the ground, he turned and looked at the owner of the voice- a man who stood at the beginning of the aisle. Kingsley was close to the other side of the aisle, but he stepped back, as the man approached.