The Apocalypse

"Arrrug...gh"

A sickly green hand reaches out for my torso.

The decomposing hand claws at me. It only has two rotting fingers, the rest bloody stumps.

SMASH!

My bat hit the foul-smelling creature right in the middle of its mangled forehead, its skull caving in.

The zombie's brains and juices splatter all over my shirt.

I tsch.

Disregarding my blood-soaked clothes, I look back at the leather bag on my waist, hitched on my shoulder by a black, polyester strap. Opening the bag, I peer inside at the contents, a sigh escaping my lips.

Good. They weren't damaged.

I look ahead, my eyes darting across the surroundings.

A store to my left. The OPEN sign was hanging by a thread, the neon colors dim like a dying person on their deathbed.

To my right was a park. The stalks of grass were like thick, viridescent spikes, covering my field of vision.

I shake my head. That is a death trap.

"Aurgh…"

Moans from behind me. I guess thirty feet away.

"Twenty seconds," I mutter under my breath.

I open the top pouch of my bag, my hand rummaging inside until I pull out a crumpled cigarette. From my right pocket, I take out a liquid lighter.

"Hwooooooo." I exhale deeply, the billow of smoke escaping my mouth and dispersing into the air. I watch them arrange into various shapes until the last, the one that looks like a giraffe, finally disappears.

"Aurghh!" The moans increase in volume.

Ten seconds.

I exhale again, putting away the shriveled cigarette into my pocket, grabbing metal.

The sleek dagger was cold in my hand; its familiar presence set me at ease.

Five.

I grasp the bat in my left hand, the knife in my right. Being ambidextrous was necessary to survive in this world.

My gut feeling began to pulse, like a heartbeat. After a while, you would obtain this sense, this new awareness.

You would know.

When they were behind you.

One.

"ARUGH!"

The zombie lunges at my exposed back.

I twist my body.

CRUNCH.

Crushing the zombie's limbs with the bat, I quickly jump backwards.

The zombie's neck juts out unnaturally as it chomps on empty air, gnashing its mouth angrily.

My body still propelling away, our eyes meet.

Lifeless, red pupils. Cold, dull eyes.

It stares at my impassive, pale face. I whirl the dagger in my fingertips.

The zombie frantically rushes at me, its swollen mouth agape, growling.

Whoosh!

The wind howls.

Thud. The zombie's body falls onto the floor.

There is a gaping hole in the middle of its forehead.

"Hummmm. Mmmmh…" I hum as I go to pick up the dagger.

"ARRRGH!" The zombie tries a final attempt, aiming for my neck. I crush its head with the bat.

Hunching down, I grab the bloody dagger from the floor. Taking out a black handkerchief from my pocket, I wipe the blood away. It's black so blood doesn't stain.

"Good enough…" Looking at my blurry reflection, I put it back in my pocket.

I run back to my bag, opening the largest compartment. Inside is a plastic case sealed with tape. Removing the sealing, I carefully take out a small, green ball. It was cold and soft to the touch.

I pop it into my mouth.

My teeth penetrate the outer, rubbery layer, the interior's sweet filling exploding into a burst of flavor.

"Mmh." I moan loudly. My taste buds are in heaven.

I shut the plastic case closed, sealing it again to preserve my sugary treasures. I strap the bag back onto my right shoulder, twirling the bloody bat in my hand.

Licking my lips, my eyes look into the distance, dawn's arousal providing them rays of light.

Five, six up ahead.

Yep.

My life now serves only two purposes:

Eating mochis and killing zombies.

Indeed, this was the apocalypse.