It all starts with...

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Revision as of 10:18, 29 December 2012

You open your eyes.

At first you're not what woke you up, but then you turn your head, and see Serena, your girlfriend of 16 months, is tapping you on the arm. Fully awake and alerted, she is clearly paying attention to something.

"What is it, Babe?" you ask, still feeling somewhat sleepy.

"Shh," she says between her teeth, "just listen."

You can't help but frown. What the hell?

But that's when you hear it too. A loud bang, coming from below, as if someone just dropped something heavy. After that, some muffled sounds.

You glance out from the window and realize it must be quite early in the morning, since the sun is not fully risen yet.

Although Mr. and Mrs. Smith, your downstairs neighbors, fight a lot and have the tendency of throwing stuffs (there was this one time they even threw an armchair out the window), it is still too early to get domestic.

On second thoughts, maybe it's not a fight at all?

As if to answer your question, a horrific nonhuman scream comes from not directly below your floor but somewhere in the proximity.

Then it clicks in your brain.

"Aw fuck." you moan, and quickly get out of bed.

Peeking through your bedroom window, you see that the street is virtually empty in this hour, except for a few souls roaming here and there. However, when you look more closely, it seems that the way they move looks awfully alike to the dancers in Michael Jackson's "Thriller."

Serena appears right next to you. "Holy shit," she exclaims, wide-eyed, "are those zombies?"

Yes, they are.

"We better get moving," you say, grabbing the pair of jeans you left on the floor last night before going to bed, "before they start munching on our brains."

Just in time, you phone starts ringing on your night table.


You:

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