Sheila was a parker for the state fairgrounds, and often worked late into the night, sleeping well into the day. She woke to a relentless banging on her apartment door. Throwing the covers off of her skinny lenghy body, she jumps out of her bed in panic. Sure it was noon, but she didn't necessarily know that. Who the hell could that be? Why the won't they stop pounding on that damn thing? She thinks as she brisky paces through the small bland studio.
Now at the door, she peers through the peephole to see a crazed man still beating on the door. He had blood on his face, and his eyes were sunken in and pale. She jumps back from the door in shock then runs to her kitchen to quickly find a cast iron pan. She had immediately remembered watching the midnight news a few nights ago. The story story was about an experimental pathogen disappearing from a lab. To her paranoid mind, it seemed obvious this man is where it ended up.
She sprints back to the door and takes a deep breath as she slowly wraps her left hand around the knob, leaning against the door. The idea of trusting her life in the strength of her arm terrifies her. Yet still she rips open the door and swings at the savage from her position still mostly behind the door as he charges into the room. This dazes him, and Sheila takes another swing, this time with both hands and it lays the man out cold.
Looking down at the body, she worried for what the outside world could've become. She turns back to the open door, snapping to the realization that there may be more in the building. She approaches the doorway hesitantly then leans out of it, looking up and down the halls. Nothing. She wondered if anyone at all was in this building.
Just then, the door of apartment 306 flies open and a very familiar bulky, long haired figure leans out of the doorway to look towards Sheilas room. "You opened your door to that crackhead!? Are you alright?" He shouts down the hall, stepping out into the open and making his way to his highschool buddies room. They weren't in highschool anymore, obiviosly.
Sheila gives the 'crackhead' one more glance before treading towards the cowardly man. "He's no crackhead, Glen! Didn't you hear about the pathogen on the news a few nights ago? He was a fucking zombie!" Sheila exclaims rather eccentrically. Glen bursts out in laughter at this exclaimation, leaing back and holding his belly as he did so. "Oh man, do you really think that news was real? You've said some strange things, but nothing is going to top that!" He says. Sheila groans in frustration and face-palms. He probably hadn't even bothered to take a break from his videogames to look outside to know if there were zombies eating people in the streets.
//Sorry this took so long, I had a slow start.
(Sandra Bullock)
