[center][img]http://www.symmetrymagazine.org/sites/default/files/styles/lead_image/public/images/standard/Decay-s_0.jpg?itok=jHVViXeK[/img][/center]
It was dark. It was always dark these days, with the undead that wandered the halls in their disgruntled state. With my lonesome that kept me company, I had scrambled to the air vents to escape the undead when shit had hit the fan. I didn’t know what had happened, I didn’t know anything. What caused this? I knew not. What were those things that used to be human? Students that rushed through the halls in fear of being tardy. I knew not. I called them the undead because that was the closest to what they appeared to be. Why had I not left this place? I knew not. And where were my companions? Julia? Jaclyn? Kayla? All the others? That I also did not know and it pained me to even think that they had become one of those mind numbed creatures that drooled their own blood and screeched without reason. 

I wielded my weapon, a fire axe which I had taken from the office. It did me good service on the occasions that I took to the hallways, littered with undead, to snatch whatever food or supplies I could grab. I sat now, with my back against the cool wall of the air vent, checking my phone as I had done many times in the past few days. It was close to dying, a red 11% on the top. I had attempted texting Phil, texting my friends, texting my family, anyone. But no one answered and my service had stopped working after the first day. Sighing, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall of the air vent. I whimpered something I knew I did not mean; “I wish I were dead.”