"Maybe this ain't so bad…"
Was a sentence nobody in the history of ever said in this kind of situation.
Stalking the hallways was like a horror movie after what I just witnessed.
Speed like that of a frothing dog, and a blatant disregard for their own safety.
While I wouldn't let anyone catch me on fraud timing, there were levels to this shit.
Because there had to be a point where the situation was properly fucked, and it was okay to be just a little bit scared.
At the same time though… I was HIM. The greatest to ever do it.
I had to be the one to carry the flame like Prometheus teaching the first humans how to make fire.
Nobody should be afraid of the dark when I was with them.
…
But by God, the dark was some scary shit.
Opening my neighbor's door, the creaking of their old ass door got me more than anything else.
Knocking on the door, I waited patiently for a response, listening to the shadows as they moved.
A knife? Really?
My knuckles turned white at the thought, my legs taking one shaky step after another.
Reaching out for the light switch, I could feel the world breath a sigh of relief, the apartment empty of any inhabitants.
Or so I thought.
A rustle from a suspiciously large pile of clothes drew my attention.
This was my time to shine.
"I am not afraid of you," I whispered, my stance shifting to get ready for whatever came from under those mold ridden sheets. "Fight me!"
The clothes wriggled, as though moving was through it was like pushing through honey.
Shuffle after shuffle, I quickly grew suspicious.
There was no way it took an infected that long to get out. There was something else behind this. A small pet.
But were animals capable of getting infected?
After enough Resident Evil games, even a squirrel would be something to be weary of.
If spiders could grow to the size of a small child, what more with something far larger?
Approaching slowly, I watched every movement that came from the pile of clothes. Waiting, watching…
Until, from underneath the pile of clothes, a cat emerged.
A normal -ish- shorthair cat.
He was orange, and …orange but other than that, he looked fairly normal.
Just a regular house cat.
"Merow."
An autistic house cat.
"Merow."
Hopping off its den, the cat laid its fat ass down on my feet and rolled over.
"You expecting something?"
"Merow."
Right, autistic cat.
And it was exactly what I needed.
As a hero, there were two things I desperately required.
The first was marketability.
If I wanted to be a hero, I needed to make people care. And the best way to care was to have marketability, or something else that was just as marketable. Shrek had donkey, Ash had pikachu, and every shitty harem anime has the obligatory daughter character.
And this cat? Peak marketability.
Cats were cute, loveable critters that love to sink their sharp claws in the hearts of people all over…
Which made them perfect to force fate's hand to let me live longer.
Second was somehow ever more important to my journey. More than marketability, more than even power, but also connected to it, that they were practically one and the same.
The rule of cool.
But, that was something for another time.
Now, I needed to cultivate this little bastard into something that people would fawn over.
"I will make a beast out of you yet," I whispered the promise, scooping the feline in my arms. "And when you are ready, you will be my golden finger to flick the heavens!"
The cat stared at me, pupils wide as the sun, orbs like polished onyx.
"Wagaga," It bellowed, tongue lolling out to hang just outside its mouth.
A tear ran past my cheek.
So beautiful.
"You'll do just fine, Nugget. You will do just fine."
A bond was formed with just mere words. One that linked us on a far deeper level than any blood could.
Putting the cat back on the ground, my gaze turned to the apartment it was left in. Sure, it was safe, but it was also in far worse condition than mine.
To say that the clothes were the least of my worries would have been an understatement.
The bed was unmade, trash laid strewn about, bottles of alcohol were haphazardly placed, and it looked like several parties had ran a train through the place.
The less said about the suspicious sock near the pc set, the better.
Shaking my head, I took stock of what remained.
Several water bottles, a pack of cup noodles, a beaten up backpack, a box of cat food, and the remains of what might have been either the cure for the bubonic plague, or its catalyst.
The amount of mold on it was startling.
Staring at everything, I couldn't help but grimace.
Whoever this was, I really hoped they got their shit together before leaving Nugget here when the apocalypse started.
Although, with the world going to shit, the guy's situation might not have changed for the better.
A short prayer for Nugget's former owner, let he rest in pieces.
Then again, another man's trash was another man's treasure.
"Merow, Wrow!" Nugget moaned, brushing up against my leg as the cat looked up at me.
"You want something?"
"Merow!" The cat replied. All before sprinting head first into the closet.
Thud.
While the impact was not very loud, I was still able to feel it, a hiss passing between the lips.
"Right, bud. I think you're going to need a bit of help."
Before it could hurt itself more, I opened the closet door, where the gallery of horrific sights had seemingly no end.
Dust and cobwebs.
All of the clothes that were supposed to be in here were currently on the floor, allowing for others to have free real estate, and no time to prepare for their rent money.
"Merow." Nugget mumbled, head knocking against the wall of the closet.
"Not right now, Nugget,"
"Merow!" Another knock, and I glanced down at the cat in concern, pulling it closer towards me.
"Stupid kitty, stop that," I commanded, as though the cat could understand me. "You're going to hurt yourself."
My hand brushed over its head, looking for any sign that my new pet had gotten hurt.
Only, when I glanced back into the closet, I noticed something. There was a difference in the way light reflected back at me.
Was there something there?
Reaching for it, my fingers felt a slight change. A minute gap the size of a finger nail.
What would happen if I-?
Whatever it was, the object caved, sinking into the wall as I pushed.
There was a hollow space behind the closet!
"And here I thought that Resident Evil was unrealistic."
I am the master of unlocking!
Shuffling the plate around, I came to find out how my neighbor got their safety deposit voided.
A small hole was dug into the walls. But, it was just big enough to house a cardboard box.
Pulling it out, I was swiftly assaulted by the dust that came off it. All kinds of small critters skitter as the space was made free.
Yuck! What's so important about this thing in the first place?
A kick rattled the lid open, showcasing the treasures that laid within. Sparkles catching at the corner of my eye as I witnessed what was unveiled.
Smooth, shimmering metal caught my attention. Glimmers of violent destruction tickling my excitement.
Flashes of a memory appeared in my mind's eye.
I understood what all those weebs were on about now.
A survival knife stood on one end, hefty enough to be of considerable use, and in pristine condition.
The same could be said for the gun on the other end.
A humble glock 17, housed in its own conversion, turning the pistol into a veritable rifle.
Additionally, it came with two spare magazines, and three boxes of ammo, each containing forty rounds each.
Whatever this mad man was up to, I salute them. God bless America and its loose gun law. Had I been transported into my home country, I'd be hard pressed to find one outside of politician or police residences.
A good thing, with everything that has happened.
"Merow?" The cat brushed against my leg, expecting a little treat.
"Of course you deserve it, my little kitty cat," I cooed, producing a can from the backpack, "You deserve every little bite."
{---}
Zombies went forward, but not upward.
Looking down at the staircase, there were more than a few trying to get up. But, with failing motor skills, they were more likely to hit their heads on the floorboards, than go up.
It made for quite the revelation.
Standing at the very top, I counted three zombies in front me, growling like the stairs had personally offended them, and doing their best to make it up, before they slipped and fell.
Though, in their haste, they tended to not have a lot of time before they fell.
From the look of things, they'd been here for a while, crimson staining the carpet like someone had thrown a bowl of punch on the floor.
Still, it at least helped me to some degree.
Brandishing the survival knife, I stalked the infected like they were rabid dogs, dangerous, but ultimately manageable under the right circumstances.
The blade found itself cutting cleanly through the infected 1's head.
To the point where I had to question the sharpness of the knife.
Were they really that fragile, or was the knife that good?
Side stepping out of the way of zombie 2, putting the blade's edge in the way of its path.
Hot knife through butter.
The corpse slumped on the floor, cut cleanly down the mouth, missing half its head.
The third quickly came at me. But when I took a few steps back, it had no other option but to slide back down the bottom.
What was wrong?
They were too squishy.
Maybe it was because I originally came from a world of magic that things were just sturdier…
Or the reason was due to the virus sacrificing the body's structural stability in return for being more mobile?
It was a bit of a stretch, but I couldn't explain it.
Looking down at the last zombie, a thought passed through my head.
If I was not getting any answers, then I would need to quickly spec into becoming a scientist.
I would not be called a fraud for not understanding the basic principles of the scientific method!
I am a Hero, but that didn't mean I was stupid.
{---}
Stripped of all limbs, tied to an ironing board, and gagged for extra measure, I got to experimenting.
Was it morbid? Was it ethical? Was I even sane for doing this to my fellow man?
"Fuck all of the above!"
Nugget stared at me, his dead eyed look forcing my expression to dim.
The situation was getting the best of me.
Sooner or later, I might end up eating a zombie to gain its power or something benign.
…
Whatever, if it meant I'd love to see the end of the day, then whatever consequence befell me was worth it!
My findings were simply put.
The zombies had the consistency of aluminum, but the aggressiveness of a man hopped up on ten keys of coke.
On top of that, they were not operating under the standard Romero rules!
Gods above, I cried for joy as soon as I watched that sucker bleed out.
For a second there, I really was scared this was Return of the Living Dead, there really was no coming back from that one.
On the other hand, I was also pushing the limits when it came to the word "average".
Apparently, when daily life consists of magic food, physically taxing labor, and a sleep schedule that doesn't consist of all nighter, a person tends to get really fit.
Modern life really made a person weak, sitting all day was the death of the majority of people living in the area.
Saying a prayer for my dearly departed subject, I called over Nugget. The cat perching atop my shoulder.
I was finally ready to venture out into the world.
Now, if I could find a party to save, that would be wonderful….
But really, what were the chances that a ragtag group of people would suddenly appear calling for help…
It wasn't like those things were exactly common in the apocalypse. Too cliche, I'd say-.
As I stepped out of the apartment complex, I heard the wild screeching of tires coming from one end of the district, gun fire trailing each inch it took.
Brata-tat-tat!
Automatic fire dispatched zeds left and right, singing to me life an angelic choir.
"Come with me if you want to live!"
"Yes, my saviour!"
A white van, the same one kidnappers used to abduct children appeared before me, coming to a stop right outside my door.
And from it, were what sounded like several people arguing with one another.
All except one person.
A bombshell brunette, like a teenager's poster come to life.
She opened the van's doors, beckoning me to enter. Her left hand held out, as her right gripped a pistol tightly.
Hahahahaha!
This truly was the start of my Hero phase!
[A/N:A hero's delusions in a world of zombies. Expect all the tropes, because honestly, its a bit more funny that way]