Good morning, Walkers.

My name is Jon, and I'd like to contribute my own, brilliant (sarcasm) series to the current onslaught of Walking Dead Fan-Fictions. I've never written Fan-Fiction before because I prefer to make my own characters, therefore this will most likely not feature any characters from the Walking Dead comics or TV Show. If it does, it will only be a brief reference or cameo. Instead, I will merely be borrowing the universe and the like from the series. If you want to read about Rick Grimes, Lori, Shane, and everyone else with one or two additional characters LEAVE now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to criticize as much as you want; I won't mind. Any questions about what happened and I will be glad to answer. I'm a fan of ambiguity and realism, so you will likely all hate me. I will not have any Mary or Marty-Sues. I will play with your mind. It will be written in a more novel-like form than a play-like form. If you want me to chance the style, TELL ME.

It may be slowly written in the beginning, but I think the most important part of the "zombie apocalypse" is how people's minds evolve/devolve from the "normal day" mentality. The Walking Dead skipped over that, which I always found a little disappointing. Let me keep you no longer. READ.


Brian splashed the sink water into his face and short, messy brown hair. He looked up into the bathroom mirror and gave himself a wide, toothy, and disturbingly yellow grin. "That didn't take long," the 18-year old laughed to himself, amused at the row of corn-like teeth now lining his mouth. School had been out for several days and he found the forsaking of his personal hygiene to be an adequate tribute to his newly-earned freedom.

As a senior, Brian was allowed to get out of school a week ahead of everyone else. His brother, Jamie, was still in attendance at Riverview High School as a junior. The two were not as close as Brian would have liked, mainly because they had nothing in common. Brian was a straight-A-student, whereas Jamie was a straight-C-student (though both boasted the fact that they did not study). Brian neither smoked nor drank, and Jamie made sure everyone knew he did both every day of the week. Brian had short, messy brown hair, and Jamie had a lazily tousled head of curly sand. Jamie loved the spotlight, and Brian despised it. Regardless of how dissimilar they were, the two did not hate each other. They "nothinged" each other, as Brian put it.

Donning his usual summer attire, a white undershirt and a pair of denim drainpipes, Brian leapt down the stairs to find his mother watching the local news, an unusual sight for so early in the morning.

"Morning, me mother," Brian said in a fake-Irish accent, kissing her on the cheek. She did not turn to him. "What's going on?" he asked, turning to the television. A concerned looking news anchor was talking nervously over video of some sick looking people

"I don't really know. An outbreak or something has hit the town," she replid, unaffected by his unusually cheery mood. He was usually a rather reserved, reticent boy, albeit a clever one. It was unlike him to be bounding down stairs or even talking to her.

"An outbreak of what? Acne?" he answered, referencing his poor summer sanitation habits.

"No. I think this is serious. You don't have plans today, do you?"

"Not if you don't want me to..." Brian was not a mother's boy, but he tried to assuage his worrisome mother whenever possible. Besides, he really didn't have any plans.

"I don't," she said. "The hospitals are all full....the news said people have been..." She paused, unable to decide how to explain. Even the newscaster had difficulty explaining. "...biting each other," she finally managed. But that wasn't even the hardest part.

Brian laughed. "'re all 'up-in-arms' about biting? How exactly can we have an outbreak of biting? Jamie will be happy," He smiled, thinking of how his younger brother was constantly trying to get out of school, though he didn't think an outbreak of "biting" warranted a day-off.

The newscaster continued almost exactly where his mother left off: "...and it appears a bite from an infected person can cause fevers of up to 112 degrees Fahrenheit." Brian had not heard the preceding half of the second. He looked at her concernedly.

"They're coming back," she finally blurted out. "They're dying, and they're coming back."

Her son thought she was joking until he saw a tear in the corner of her eye. She was one to overreact, he thought, but not like this, and certainly not in unison with the local news. Brian noticed the man on the television was sweating visibly and stumbling over every couple of words.

Suddenly, the TV went dark along with all of the lights in the house. Only the morning sun shone through the large, rectangular window to the right of Brian and his poor, worried mother.

"Fantastic..." Brian sighed.

"I'll go get the generator," his mother said, getting up and heading towards the back door.

"No, I'll get it. It's too heavy for you," he offered, grabbing her by the arm. He was not the strongest teenager in the world, but compared to his mother he was practically a giant.

His mother looked both unsure and unhappy. He could tell she knew he was right. "Be quick," she said, with more than an ounce of worry in her voice.

Brian gave her a sweet, half-smile and grabbed the key to their shed. He slid open the back door and sauntered carelessly over to the shed.

It looked just like any other summer morning. Both the sun and the moon were visible in the sky, the grass was yellowed and uncut. The only thing that seemed strange was the quiet. There were no birds, no cars, and no sounds other than the padding of his own feet across the lawn. But Brian made nothing of it. He opened the shed and searched through all of the junk for the generator. Rakes, leafblowers, a chainsaw, his father's axe, and finally the generator. He lugged the huge thing up to his waist and began back to the house until he heard a scream...from inside his house. He immediately dropped the generator and raced to the back door; he had left it open.

Brian froze inside the doorway.

A bloodied man stood in the middle of his living room. He was skeleton skinny and horribly disfigured, with half the meat pulled off his left leg. A hole in his red-soaked shirt revealed a huge, gaping hole in his chest. His entrails were hanging out of the hole like stringed necklaces and deflated balloons. His mouth and chin were smeared with a thick, almost creamy crimson muck. He was disgustingly pale. Like all of his blood had left him. Sickeningly pale.

Brian was still frozen...

His teeth jutted out from his rotted, lipless mouth like stalactites, painted red in several thick, gloppy coats. His eyes bulged from his gaunt, emaciated face like billiard balls. And they just stared at him. Bloodshot and yellow. Piercing.

Still frozen...

This skeletal man stood, bow-legged, over Brian's mother, who lay motionless on the floor in a pool of blood.

"No..." Brian said, helpless. "No!"

The man moaned a long, grey, lifeless moan and started towards him. He moved slow enough for Brian to react, but fast enough that he didn't have time to think. He grabbed viciously for Brian's face, but the boy ducked immediately and threw the "man" over his shoulders, sliding the screen door shut behind him. But it didn't close. The "man's" head was stuck between the door and the wall. He slammed it, but it was still "alive." Furiously, Brian began slamming the door again and again and again until it was clear that he had stopped moving. This demon was dead.

He ran over to his mother. She was still alive. She reached up and touched his face. "Brian..." she moaned, her eyes half-open and her lips quivering.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He didn't look at her wounds, but he knew they were there. And they were bad.

"Mom...I'll...I'll..." He didn't know what to promise.

"Jamie..." she said, exhaling, and finally dropping her head to the floor. She was limp.

Brian began to shake uncontrollably. His fingertips fluttered rapidly as he tried to feel for her pulse. He slid back towards the counter behind him and slammed his head into it resignedly. He ran his hand through his hair. He looked at the man in the door. It was his neighbor, he now realized, but his mind had blocked out his name. He was helpless.

"The hospitals are full," his mother had said. His father never carried a cell-phone and was in a meeting in Atlanta.

Brian's eyesight began to fade. His vision was slowly being consumed by a black cloud. He was fainting, he realized. He sat against the counter for a minute. He slammed his head against it. "Wake up..." he told himself. He sat for another ten minutes.

Then he heard a noise. The only one he'd heard since the scream. His cellphone. Clumsily, he scrambled to his feet and hurried up to his room. Quickly he picked up his phone.

"Hello?" He said, unsuccessfully trying to hide the fact that he had been crying.

"Hey, Brian? It's Kyle." Kyle was a senior, like Brian, and they considered each other friends.

"Yeah. Hey," Brian answered, wiping his nose and his eyes.

"Do you have any idea what the fuck's going on?" He laughed.

Brian was unable to reply.

"Brian? Anyway, Cass and I are going to head down to the high school to pick up Keira. I wanted to see if you wanted to go with us to pick up Jamie, as well?" Keira was Kyle younger sister. She was in the grade below Jamie's. Cass was Kyle's girlfriend.

"Jamie," Brian remembered his mother's words, I've gotta get Jamie.

"Yes. Absolutely. I'll...I've got to get Jamie."

Brian hung up and jumped downstairs. His mother was still there and the sight of her shook him. He was always an emotional person, but he knew now was not the time to dwell. He had to get his brother.

Brian closed the back door, grabbed his car keys, and left. He made sure to lock both doors behind him. He pulled out of the driveway and started towards Riverview High School.

Done! That took much longer than anticipated. I had a few more scenes planned for chapter one, but that was so long that I don't think you guys could handle it (not an insult, I just think it's better cut up into pieces (like Walkers)).

Will anyone even read this?