Chapter Text
November 28th
In the case you end up in an apocalyptic future it is wise to make sure you never go hungry. If you are too careless you are more likely to die of starvation or dehydration before an infected can even stick its decaying teeth into you. Ditzy knows this well as hy follows the group who are none the wiser of hys presence. It wasn’t honest, but hy was too hungry to really stick with whatever morals hy was privileged to hold before the end of the world. So, when the group paused their walking to set up a fire and began to cook meat from their earlier game, hy hid in the trees waiting for hys moment to strike.
They were a group of four, three humans and a troll. Ditzy did not recognize any of them, maybe that is what made it easier to do this. The troll said something too quiet for hys ears and pointed to the west. Two of the humans nodded in some sort of agreement and minutes later they left, leaving one alone. Perfect.
The singular human was watching the squirrel that roasted on the fire while checking the chamber of their pistol. They sigh and walk over to one of the backpacks that were left by their friends, and Ditzy begins to move. Hy didn’t feel much anymore - hy couldn’t in this condition - but there was always an overwhelming feeling of hunger. It was bottomless, it was senseless, there was no way to quiche it. Hy was finally close enough to the fire to feel its radiating heat. The human is still rummaging, they can’t seem to find what they’re looking for. They sigh and give up turning to return to their original place by the fire.
When they do, they instantly scream at the sight of the intruding Ditzy. Raising their gun, they fire three rounds each piercing through Ditzy’s chest. Hy stumbles from the impact and the human goes to shoot more, only to be met with the clicks of an empty chamber. Ditzy moves forward, looking in the human's tearful eyes. Hy passes the cooking squirrel in disinterest and without missing a beat the human turns to run the other way. In their frenzy they trip over the backpack, sealing their fate as Ditzy practically pounces on them sinking their teeth into their jugular.
The familiar taste of iron fills hys mouth, and hys meal gurgles as that same iron fills theirs. Hy closes hys jaw harder, feeling the last gasp of air escape the human's mouth. Their body will be laid to rest, for now. Whatever Ditzy leaves will be poisoned with the infection in hys saliva. It will travel through their veins and up to the brain, defying nature itself and bringing them back to a purgatory; an existence where they think and feel nothing, only driven by the instinct to consume. Ditzy has performed this ritual many times though, and with the little feeling of mercy hy has left hy digs hys razor sharp claws into hys prey's skull. It makes a cracking sound in a similar fashion to a watermelon, and splits in half like so. Ditzy lets hys claws bury themselves in the mush of neurons, completely destroying all function with a handful brutally ripped from the stem.
Hy shoves it in hys mouth and chews messily with little grace. The taste of grey matter clings to hys tongue urging hym to eat more and more, until there is nothing left. The funny thing about actually eating brains as a zombie, is that it ties you over for longer than it would if you were to simply eat a chunk of flesh. Though, most zombies don’t have the capacity to figure this out themselves, but most zombies also don’t have the capacity to feel things like mercy, or able to tactfully hunt down their meals.
If Ditzy still had the capacity for humor or sadness, hy would not be able to decide if it was funny or sad that, even in death, hy was wired completely different. Hy continues to eat until there was hardly anything left. When hy has hys fill hy stands and goes to wander aimlessly again until hy is tempted with hys urge again.
This has been hys system since the end of the world, ever since the infection entered hys veins with pin-prick precision. At least hy had the privilege of adapting quicker than most. While the living was mourning their past lives and the turning dead were suffering with the new strains of the infection, hys transformation happened in an instant. Hys connection and feelings to whatever life hy had before was completely wiped when the pure poison killed the functioning in hys brain. There was no prolonged dread or suffering, only complete metamorphosis.
Ditzy feels brush and thorns cling to the ends of hys clothes. Hy is unbothered, even as they scrape and scratch hys ankles to fleshy shreds. The lack of self-preservation was another symptom of being undead, but honestly, it didn't seem any different from before.
Wandering with no destination isn't much to comment on. Ditzy walked through brush and trees, and at some point hy found a highway and started dragging along there. In the distance hy could see tall buildings and a yellow smog floating around. With no feeling on the matter hy follows it.
The closer he stumbled the more he could register a foul sour smell. It was a particularly potent scent of garlic and and vinegar, which usually wouldn't be particularly awful but somehow this was. The yellow mist grew thicker, clogging all hys senses the closer hy was, and hy determined that it was the source of the smell.
What hy couldn't figure out was what it exactly it is, or where it was coming from. Hy was now on the outskirts of a town which hy was greeted by a hoard of hys kind walking away from. It must be scarce of food. This didn't affect hys decision to travel deeper in since hy was not particularly peckish at the moment, so hy continued in.
The yellow fog was worse on the inside. It was so thick it was almost impossible to see, hy couldn't imagine anyone living being able to breath in it. Whatever this was it was harmful, that hy could defer.
Up ahead hy could see a group of a dozen dead. They groaned and walked with an unnatural speed that suggested they were after food. While Ditzy wasn't hungrier than usual, hy went along with the crowd anyway, not having anything else to do.
Hys ears heard hacking coughs and slashing sounds. Ahead of hym hy saw a man with an overgrown blonde mullet that badly needed a tone, that was obscured with a grey cap that shaded his face with the help of actual shades. Something registered in hys system at the sight of the man. Something sick and sadistic stirred in hym as hy watched him struggle against the hoard, something deep in hym screamed that this was deserved.
It was odd since hy wasn't supposed to really have feeling on anything, but hy shoved that away and continued to watch on the outer circle. The man hacked and coughed, the air clearly affecting him horribly. He looks over his shoulder sneering at something.
Or someone.
On closer inspection Ditzy could see another. A younger guy with similar shades to the older man on his knees with a sword clutched in hand. He was also struggling to breath worse than his older companion and couldn't seem to catch his breath enough to stand up and fight.
Ditzy also had a feeling at this sight. A cold sick feeling hy couldn't put hys finger on.
"Dirk," the older man barked out between wheezing, "get your ass up!"
The guy, Dirk, doesn't respond, he hardly even moves. It's hard to watch.
The older man stumbles as he slashes his sword, unable to lift its weight. He can't bring it high enough to hit the zombies anywhere that mattered.
"Dirk," he starts before he is taken by surprise by a dead coming behind him. He lets out a cry as he is bitten, dropping his sword. It isn't long after until he is swarmed. The 12 undead pile and claw like a pin of pigs at a slop tray, tearing and ravishing the man that put up a fight.
Ditzy directs hys attention to the other guy. He is still on the ground, a hand on his chest as he tries desperately to breath. Hy can't help but feel a pull to him, one that is different than hys instinctive hunger. It was a need to get close, but not with the intent to stick hys maw in Dirk's neck.
Dirk.
Hy knows that name.
There is a sound of metal against concrete. Dirk is rising, using his sword as a makeshift crutch. He raises his head, and they lock eyes. His eyebrows scrunch in a way that hy couldn't decipher. Hy couldn't investigate it longer because one of the hoard becomes interested in him, it drools as it stumbles towards him. Dirk grips his sword and has a look of confliction, a lack of confidence that didn't seem normal to him. Ditzy decides to take the situation in hys own hands, grabbing the zombie and crushing a tender part in its forehead letting its undead existence come to an end. Hy looks back at Dirk who stares at hym with an expression that was a mix of confusion and amazement, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
They both don't make a move, simply staring at each other as the hoard is too occupied eating the other man. A series of coughs leave Dirk as he puts more weight on the sword. Ditzy final stumbles closer, which Dirk stiffens at. He has that look hy can't read again, but hy ignores it. Hy has decided the goal at hand was getting him out of here before he suffocates.
Finally next to Dirk, Ditzy weakly points at a clearing, an incoherent gurgle leaving hys mouth.
Dirk blinks behind his shades, looking between hym and the clearing before letting out an airless laugh.
"This shit is so fucked up."