Chapter Text
When asked at the young tender age of 10 what you'd do in such a situation, you'd come up with a fantastical plan of grandeur and survival. At the young age of 20 you were more logical with your meticulous plan for survival though.. still thoughtless. After all, it's not possible… right ?
Now heading into early 30s, you were honestly surprised you didn't join the hundreds of thousands of women who offed themselves at the start.
The first to die were the nonbelievers who had nothing to lose, then thousands of men who thought they could fight this evil, followed by the overly religious who committed suicide at the thought of abandoned by the rapture or the only salvation, finally women who didn't want to do a survival sing and dance since there was no rules. The men could do as they pleased and once the power went out and the jail cells opened. Hell erupted.
The beginning was rough. Children's bodies littered the earth. Women burned themselves alive in the streets several months following. Those who survived the initial attack did three things except take their death into their hands. Group up, work alone, or became infected. Turns out, the ink that came from the corroding grotesque looking toons was parasitic, who could have thought? They no longer had a heatbeat and started turning gray. Insides dripping midnight black goopy ink.
They were in lay man's terms. A zombie.
There had been hope, after all the attack, attacked one area. But it was quickly shattered. Countries put up their borders and shot whoever tried to cross.
No one was coming to help.
Ever since human life became less and less. Which, isn't a bad thing now. Can't trust anyone now. The friendly smiles could turn insidious right after. After all, you'll do what you have to to survive. The sane toons made little towns on the bodies of humans. It was a wordless rule. Never approach, they'd sell you out to the demon immediately. After all, that was their lord.
So what about you?
The squelch under boot no longer bothered you as you navigated the sewers. Traversing the wet parts was undesirable but it can't be helped. The water has long run gray, finding clean water was hard but it still existed. You had three bottles full. A box of granola bars you scavenged off a corpse, a flashlight you were currently using, a first aid kit with only half its components,and the few batteries you scavenged from topside. Your bag was light.
It was a good and bad sign.
You sway the flashlight, before clicking off. While it was a curse at most times.The flashlight's soft light, now, was a blessing. You crouched and sneaked forward. The wet sound of tussled organs and shuffling can only be the sound of an zombie. Peeking around the corner you grimace. It's facing a wall, entranced by it. Organs hanging out and one leg twisted. What caught your eye was the axe in its neck.
If you could get your hands on that weapon, your survival chances sky rocketed. It was.. tempting.. too tempting. How many times have you nearly been taken out by hungry animals? Other survivors? Still thank whoever, you dodged that bullet. Luck had to run out eventually.
You're getting that damn axe.
You look to the ground and grab some algae covered rocks. Careful not to have them slip through your fingers. These weren't ordinary zombies after all. They can see you and hear. Thankfully they can't smell.
Splash!
The zombie snapped its neck to the waterways and hobbled over. Crouched, you stealth walked. Another throw and the zombie was convinced that someone was in the opposite direction from you. Another blessing, they're dumb .
You were getting dangerously close. It was now or never.
Springing forward, your hands wrapped around the handle and as you yanked, you kicked the zombie into the current. They are released with a spray of blood and muscle straps. Decorating the axe like a macabre scarf. You'll clean it later. Now was time to run.
Unfortunately, zombies can run.
You dashed away, adrenaline kicking in. You heard the gurgle shrieking and fled. It had a lame leg but that didn't mean much when you don't register pain. You turned a corner when you heard an enraged scream. The tunnels can't go forever . You dash, light now once more a curse.
"Ladder… ladder!"
You saw it just as the thudding steps picked up. Zombies came out several tunnels. Your hands were full. Throwing the lamp into your mouth. You barrel roll out of reach. Sliding and tripping as you threw yourself at the ladder. One hand and two legs as you heaved up. Missing several steps but that barely registered. The hatch to freedom wouldn't budge.
It was now or never. You rammed upward. Wood splintered as you barreled up and out. Breathing heavily. They can't climb , you remind yourself. Safe… safe. You collapsed onto the ground. Breathing hard, there's a panic ringing in your ear as you calm down.
After a minute you take in your surroundings. First, you notice you're laying in hay, next the barn looks… new .
Too new.
You hear voices. Lights flashing outside. No… no no no!
"I'm telling you Betty, I heard summin!"
You dive for the largest pile and hide. Fuck, of course the tunnel leads to a toon settlement!
Meanwhile, unknown location
He had waited very patiently for this day. The day humans could no longer hurt them— him.
The being in his hand was insignificant, boring, useless . The human begged and pleaded. Eyes bloodshot and oozing fear.
Yammering on and on. Not a fun toy after all.
"Please spare me! I..I can work for you!"
The grinning demon didn't even register the whiny voice. Like he needed them.
"Sammy."
A being of ink rises. Wearing a mask of his face in worship of him. "Yes my lord?"
The human looks hopeful. Funny. Words of praise spews from their mouth before in one go he traps their head between his thumb and index and squeezes . It pops like a grape and he drops them in disgust. Not even worth eating.
"Stop bringing me useless toys. Do you take me for a fool?"
Sammy dives on the floor. "I'm sorry my lord! I thought they'd be the key! It's hard to find quality toys!"
The ink demon hummed. Slouching in the expansive void of ink. He rests his head on his hand. Frowning. It bothers him that he still needs them. A perfect host.
If it wasn't for that huge body of water diluting his ability to travel…
He once more contacted the very thing that birthed him. It's voice whispered and hummed. He saw through the eyes of his lesser creations. Mindless dead puppets but useful still. All over he saw them, the few animals he managed to catch. Pecking at the borders before being shot dead.
A zombie lugging through an expansive mall.
In his moment, flicking from body to body. Several disturbances made itself known. It's not uncommon for them to get riled up by noise. But what he saw had him sitting up.
He shivered. The inadvertent eye contact was enough. That's the host. What remains of the bloodline.
His smile returned more vicious than ever.