"WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!"
Those were the only words I could muster as both my body and soul trembled. When I, Jefford Cliff, opened the steel doors of the Hong Kong sea port control center and saw the bloody-filled sight that would instantly change my life.
The place where I had worked for almost 2 years, along with my beloved girlfriend, which was filled with happy memories of laughter and smiling people, was all gone.
All I could see were the lifeless bodies of my coworkers spread around the room, with their blood staining the floor and giving a foul smell like that of a rotten corpse.
Making me feel like something shattered within me, like the cake that slipped from my hands and shattered on the floor that I brought for my girlfriend's 25th birthday today.
"WAS THERE A MURDER HERE?!"
I asked myself with a trembling voice as I continued to gaze at the horrific scene, grabbed my phone, lowered the sound, and called the city police station number.
Yet they didn't answer, and when I was about to call again, I heard a loud cry of people begging for help from the basement.
Hearing the plea, I immediately lowered the sound of my phone and called again, yet for the second time, no one answered, leaving me distraught about what to do with the continuous begging of a human for help down the basement.
I stood still for a couple of seconds, with my mind and eyes looking at the messed-up room full of bloodstains. Then my eyes saw a pistol beside one of the dead bodies.
I cautiously walked towards the gun, carefully not making a sound, and then, when I was about to pick it up, I glanced at the dead body beside it.
It was one of my senior male colleagues who had always had a beautiful smile, especially to me. Yet, his face right now was something the total opposite—his skin was like that of a weeklong rotting corpse, his mouth was dripping blood, and his bloodshot eyes, which stayed open even after he died, were glaring at me as if they wanted to kill me.
Looking at his terrifying face, I immediately took the gun with my trembling hands and pulled away from him, and looked at the other dead bodies—they too looked like monstrous beings.
"WHAT IS THIS!?" I said while trembling.
Yet I immediately snapped out of my fear when I heard once again the sound of someone still fighting for his life down in the basement.
I looked at the gun and checked if there was still ammunition, and fortunately, there was still plenty, and it made me decide to save those pleading voices.
I cautiously walked forward to the stairs heading down to the basement,
With hands tightly gripping the gun, passing by multiple rooms which were all filled with bloodstains, yet strangely, there were no dead bodies—until I finally reached the stairs heading down the basement, when
I suddenly heard a sound—WET, GROTESQUE MUNCHING—echoing from down below, with the voices of those begging for help just a moment ago gone.
Yet, despite the eerie sound, I continued to walk silently down the stairs with my gun aimed, ready to fire anytime.
As I got closer and closer to the basement,
An awful stench filled my nose along with the increasing eerie sound of munching—something like that of meat.
But before I could move any closer and turn to the last corner before seeing the basement, a hand pulled my shirt, stopping me from advancing any further, and a voice whispered in my ear.
"Jefford, there's a ton of fast-running, zombie-like monsters inside the basement. You can't kill them all."
I slowly leaned back and saw Marianne, my tall and beautiful girlfriend, looking at me with a concerned face.
"WHAT!? Did you say?" I whispered back, with a shaking voice.
"Look at this and you'll understand," she said seriously, pulling out her phone and showing me a news website with a video of a horrifying zombie-like monster with bloodshot eyes, biting the neck of a university student who was screaming in agony as her flesh was torn apart by the monster's sharp teeth and huge amount of blood gushing out from it—and more horrendous-looking zombies chasing the other students as the video zoomed out, revealing it was taken from a high-rise building.
As I watched the video, my mind slowly became torn and confused about whether this was all true, that the cause of all these nightmarish events, when I opened the door, was because of a zombie apocalypse.
I looked at Marianne, full of fear, and asked in a trembling voice,
"Marianne... is this true?"
She looked at me and was about to speak when suddenly Marianne's phone rang loudly—and immediately, the monsters in the basement noticed it. They roared like beasts.
"JEFFORD, RUN!"
She yelled as she quickly held my hand tightly and pulled me to run back upstairs.
We ran with all our might, panting heavily while I fired gunfire against the dozens of zombies that were chasing us. Until we finally reached the steel doors.
However, just as Marianne pulled the door open—
She was greeted by a horrendous figure with bloodshot eyes and a mouth full of blood, with its face looking at Marianne like a predator catching its prey.
"MARIANNE, THERE'S A ZOMBIE! WATCH OUT!"
I screamed at her and tried to pull her towards me, but it was too late!
The zombie lunged at her, breaking our connected hands and quickly tackling her to the ground with immense force. It bit her neck mercilessly with its sharp teeth, causing Marianne to scream in pain as blood gushed violently.
I looked at Marianne on the floor and
FROZE IN DISBELIEF.
All of my happy memories with her started to play in my mind— From the first time she smiled at me on our very first day of work…
To the times we hung out with our colleagues, drinking and celebrating milestones at work…
To those moments when we went on casual dates under the pretense of just being friends…
And finally, when I fell for her and confessed my feelings, and saw her beautiful smile, as she accepted me.
I remembered those times when we became a couple and she got angry with me:
The way she'd get jealous whenever girls crowded around me… The way she'd pout or glare, her face. Those were also happy memories that I have experienced with her
Those memories are engraved in my mind that no matter what expression she wore, her face would always be something I want to see every day.
But the facial expressions that I was seeing right now— It was something I never wanted to see:
I CAN'T BEAR TO WATCH HER BEING EATEN MERCILESSLY ALIVE RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY BARE EYES.
I started to cry and lost hope.
I didn't care about the numerous zombies which some of them are my co-workers, now turned into monsters, quickly running toward me and Marianne.
But I snapped back to reality when I heard her weak voice amidst the growls of zombies and the munching of flesh at her neck.
"Jefford… get out of here. Lock the door… and my brother, please..."
But before she could finish, another zombie lunged from the side and started biting her throat, silencing her forever.
But that was enough…
Enough for me to come back to reality and understand what she wanted to convey.
And immediately—with trembling hands and tears in my eyes—I ran out, closed the steel doors, and locked them using the passcode.
Then I turned around… and gazed around me.
The port, once full of life and motion, just a moment ago was now in full chaos with people yelling for help as they ran against the fast-running monstrous zombies. Or even worse, begging to be killed as they could not bear the pain of being eaten alive.
Which broke my will to survive even more.
I immediately sank to the floor, remaining seated with my back pressed against the steeled door—where Marianne was being devoured mercilessly by those horrendous monsters, which some of those are my kind co-workers but now are just heartless monsters that has only one goal and that is to eat, kill and bring suffering to humans a complete opposite to the care and joy that they bring before this nightmarish event happened.
Experiencing such tragic losses of kind and true friends and co-workers, I started to cry uncontrollably, never intending to stop.
But a few seconds later, my phone buzzed with a message that drastically covered all of the pain.
I slowly pulled out my phone and looked at the message with tears in my eyes.
And then my grieving emotions were overwhelmed by the shock of reading the name of the sender of the message.
It was from my parents, whom I have never met again for almost 2 years.
After I had a job that paid enough for me to live on my own, I never tried to contact them—not even once—since that last argument with them…
That time when I got drunk and hung out with my friends all night and didn't come back, nor messaged my parents for 2 days.
And when I came back, they scolded me, as any normal, caring parent would do.
However, their scolding back then, for me, felt like they were trying to control my life… not letting me have freedom.
Which is why I raised my voice against them and shouted:
"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT! I HAVE MY OWN LIFE! I'M OLD ENOUGH TO DO WHAT I WANT! I'M NOT A KID ANYMORE!"
That only made them even angrier.
Their scolding got worse, and it drove me to leave the house.
I started living alone for the next two years, carrying nothing but hatred in my heart toward them.
Yet… when I read their message—
It made me regret all those inappropriate things I did.
All those hurtful words I said to them.
---
MESSAGE:
Jefford, you're precious. Please be careful… there's a zombie apocalypse happening right now.
We know our relationship as parents and son has become a mess, to the point that you hate us and don't want us to contact you after our fallout.
But we can't just sit idly and not warn you to be careful against those monstrous zombies that are currently being broadcast on the news… the ones eating people mercilessly.
Jefford, we know sometimes we become too overprotective and strict to the point that you feel suffocated.
But we don't hate you… Not even after that incident when you lashed out against us.
We still care.
And we still love you, Jefford.
You can visit us at our house if you want. It's safe here—there's a military camp detachment nearby.
Please stay safe… and survive.
---
After I read their selfless and heartwarming message, I started to cry—not because of grief or fear—but because of joy.
Joy that they truly love me.
And disappointment… for not realizing it much earlier.
For not knowing how much they truly do.
Knowing that slowly helped me clear my troubled mind…
My restless heart…
and my shattered will.
It made me want to be there for them.
To protect them.
To survive this apocalypse.
It gave me a surge of determination, making me stand up and walk cautiously down toward the cargo containers, heading to the exit, intending to go to my parents' house.
I want to leave this place and survive…
Knowing there are still people who love me.
But as I stepped into the cargo container area—
I FROZE.
There, in the shadows between two containers, stood the silhouette of a man.
MY BLOOD RAN COLD.
MY LIMBS TURNED NUMB.
MY BREATH CAUGHT IN MY THROAT.
My eyes locked onto something that wasn't human.
His skin resembled a corpse—gray, decaying, like he'd been buried and unearthed weeks later.
Around his neck were grotesque, tumor-like growths—carcass tissue swollen and pulsating, like cancerous sacs threatening to burst.
Worse still, the bulges had tiny holes… seeping green mist and releasing a nauseating stench.
And above that vile neck…
His mouth.
His tongue—long, slimy, and grotesque—dangled down to his knees, dripping green phlegm like acid.
IT WAS A MUTANT ZOMBIE FULL OF ABOMINATION THAT LOOKED AT ME WITH ITS PREDATOR EYES AS ITS FOOD.