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// Prologue 
// Story: A New World, a New Terror 
// by TroWolf15 
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(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not have an editor. Unless you want to call Microsoft word my editor. If anyone would have interest in being my editor, let me know! Thanks! :D Hope you enjoy!

*thump*
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*thump*
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It was all I heard around me. All I saw was whatever my flashlight shined on, the light in the house was dead. All I could smell was the grotesque odor of rotting meat. All I could feel were the cold beads of sweat running down my face. I was scared, terrified actually, but yet comfortable. Maybe it was the 7 inch knife I held in my other hand, or perhaps the gear I wore. My combat helmet and metal gear, or maybe my other weapons? My shotgun wrapped on my back along with my AK-47. Or my 3 handguns holstered on my hips and one in my right boot. *CRASH* “WHO’S THERE?” I quickly said. It came from the kitchen; I realized those were glass plates shattering. What did it though? I slowly made my way to the kitchen; at this point I was crouching, trying not to make a single sound. I slowly turned the corner, seeing more of the kitchen. It looked nice, marble counter tops, island counter with a ceiling overhanging, stainless steel sink and a grey sleek fridge. Would’ve been nice to cook here.

But I wasn’t there to cook, unfortunately. My thoughts came to a halt as I saw a figure standing right there, just feet from me. It just stood there, not a peep coming from either of us. I reluctantly turned my flashlight on it, there it was, blood spread all over its face, and a chunk of meat missing from its neck. A person. But not just any person, hell, I wish it was. 

It was a fuckin’ zombie. 

“Ah crap” was all I could manage to say until the freak fall on me, trying to make me its dinner. Luckily I had my knife out. I stabbed it through the neck, keeping it away from my face. Blood splattered everywhere, I made sure to close my eyes and mouth as the blood flew, I did NOT want to turn into one of those things, not after all that has happened. I threw it off me, it still trying to turn me into a meal. I got back on my feet and rushed over to it, this time I was in control, and pierced its eye socket with my Rambo-esque knife. I pulled it out and hit the other eye, again making sure my mouth and eyes were closed as I did it. I released the zombie and it collapsed onto the floor, motionless. 

Phew

I continued walking around the house, looking. What I did find was something that brought me back to the good ol’ days before this: A Rainbow Dash figurine. Still in good condition. I was never one to collect stuff, but I loved the show. So guess what? I was a brony. And I didn’t care. A number of people from my past life mocked me for it, but I knew it would someday come back to bite them in the ass. And guess what? It did – literally. Anyway I decided to pocket the figurine, and head out. I was done with what I was doing, I just wanted to get home and sleep. Enough stress for today – I get enough of it anyway. 
I head outside, ready for my car to greet me and ready for a calming ride home, but one thing managed to get in my way of getting to the car. 

Another fucking zombie.

“C’mon this shit’s getting old!!” I screamed as I lunged towards the zombie, knife in hand, quickly and efficiently piercing its skull. The crack it made was disgusting, yet satisfying. I threw the double lifeless corpse onto the ground and just stared at it for a bit.

I wonder who that person was before, how they were. I doubt they were as much as an ass then as they are now. I wonder if he’s in heaven, wishing for someone to put his body down. Or I wonder if some part of him is trapped in there, wishing to be released, set free by someone.

My universe defying logic and thinking was cut short when I noticed the horde of zombies heading my way. There was easily 75-100 of them, all slowly limping, but yet trying to get to me as fast as they could, the idea of getting a meal giving them motivation to move.

“Mother of god…” was all I could muster to say. I was frozen. The amount of zombies I witnessed was an ungodly amount, no one person could take out this amount on their own. I’m never the one to back down, I never run from a fight, especially with these fucks. But this time I was just frozen solid, reduced to a statue staring down death itself. Only until they were feet away did I realize what would happen if I didn’t move. I didn’t want to die. Not after what I’ve done, what I promised mom and dad, or my sister. It would only disappoint them if I didn’t keep on going. So I did what any sensible person would do in a time like that - I quickly ran for my car. But, some zombies were in the way of me getting to my car. I didn’t have time to kill them all; I could only run through them and pray I didn’t get caught.

I ran through, pretending I was back on the playground with friends playing tackle football. I ducked my head, tucked in my arms, lowered my shoulders and went all “The Refrigerator” on their asses. Next thing I knew I ran into my car, causing a dent in the side of it.

“Ow, fuck that hurt.” I said rubbing my shoulder, noticing the dent.

“dammit well that sucks” I grumbled, before remembering I need to get the fuck out of there before I become zombie chow.
I get in the car, and drive off in the opposite direction of my house, hopefully I drive them away.

“God I hope they aren’t smart enough to realize what I’m doing” I whisper, driving off for home, the horde following.