Zombie Fodder(Riren/Ereri)

Is it Nerd or Geek?

"Name and age."

"Why do either of those matter?"

"Your age determines what squad you're placed in and unless you want a very creative nickname I'd suggest telling me your name."

You're all probably wondering how I got to this point, so I'll start from the initial outbreak. No one knows for sure how, but while scientists were working on a biochemically weaponized gas, it got out of the lab. Not a big deal, it will just dissipate in the air, right? Wrong! Whatever it was made of was tough as hell and spread through the air like wildfire.

Billions of people got hit all at once and those who weren't were assumed to be immune to the airborne virus. Those billions of people who got hit got sick. Nothing too serious, though. It was far from deadly and was more like a flu than anything. People assumed there was nothing to panic about since no one died from it. That was humanity's first mistake.

The virus made you have a fever and a cough, but it was gone in a few days. Then a week later, all hell breaks loose. The sickness would pass but in a week's time your body would die. It's so sudden and quick that people didn't even know what was happening. People were dropping like flies and it was estimated that nearly ninety percent of the population was dead.

Except the damned people couldn't stay dead. Within a certain amount of time after death(times vary per person), the person would come back. The virus kick-started their brain, but the soul was already gone, making them virtually, get this, a zombie! Who would have thought that video games could actually be helpful!

All those parents who were telling their kids how video games aren't helpful at all are eating their words, if they're even alive. Personally, I never was interested in those types of games. I was more of an mmorpg sweat. Gaming was my life, when I wasn't working, though I worked from home so that made life easier.

I think the term you're looking for is nerd... Or is it geek? I never could tell the difference. Let's just assume I'm both. I'm just your average nineteen year old with a major in graphic design and an obsession with books and energy drinks. Drawing is my escape and, coincidentally, my job as well. When I'm not drawing or reading, I'm gaming, simple right?

Take out and Red Bull was my diet and I was fine with it. Not so much now though. It's hard to find that stuff and the only takeout coming my way is your zombified neighbor getting taken out with the trash. That might sound cruel to some but the world is a cruel place, kill or be killed, predator or prey.

The zombies outnumber us, without a doubt, but they're dumb and slow. Don't get me wrong, a group of them surrounds you, you're ass is grass, but they're not like World War Z zombies. If they could run, or strategize we'd be, pardon my French, fucked. Let's just be glad they're slow, stupid pests.

I honestly didn't even know what was happening in the outside world until it fell in my lap, literally. It was just another day, headset muffling the noise of traffic outside and hands racing quickly across my keyboard, when I heard a strange ruckus. Me, being the person who would die first in a horror movie, decided to check it out.

Outside my door, I could hear stumbling footsteps, like a drunk person, and weird moaning noises. Now if the neighbors want to get kinky, fine by me, but leave me out, geez! I was about to go sit back down, when something smacked into my door. Again, being the horror story victim, I open my door to see what is going on.

A bald man in a suit, with a knife sticking out of his chest, stumbled into my room and faceplanted at my feet. I may be a horror story victim, but I graduated when I was fifteen, so I knew right away what was going on. I walked around the zombie and quickly shut my door. I'm telling you, these guys are slow.