The next morning...
"Ahhh—!"
"Help! Sobody help!"
"There’s a monster—!"
The peaceful hush of dawn shattered under a wave of screams—raw, panicked, and everywhere. The entire campus echoed with the sound of terror, a rising tide of chaos and despair.
"What the hell is going on down there?!"
Ethan jerked awake, groaning as a dull headache throbbed behind his eyes. He rubbed his temples, still half-drunk and groggy, then pushed himself off the rooftop floor. Stumbling to the edge, he leaned over the railing to see what all the noise was about.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
The courtyard below was a massacre.
Bodies—mangled, torn, half-eaten—were strewn across the pavent like discarded trash. Blood soaked the concrete in wide, dark stains. And moving among the carnage were figures—dozens of them—drenched in gore, hunched over limbs and torsos, gnawing like animals.
Their eyes glowed red. Their skin was rotting. Their mouths were sared with blood.
Ethan staggered back from the edge, heart hamring, breath caught in his throat. Even soone as grounded as him couldn’t process what he’d just seen.
"I’m still dreaming," he muttered, shaking his head. He grabbed a fistful of his thigh and pinched—hard.
"AHH—!"
Chris shot upright with a yelp, clutching his leg. "Dude! What the hell?! Why’d you pinch ?!"
"Did it hurt?"
"Of course it hurt! Try it on yourself!"
Ethan’s face tightened. "So... not a dream."
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look again. He crept back to the edge and peeked over.
Sa scene. Sa nightmare. The courtyard was still a bloodbath, and the monsters were still feasting.
He backed away again, this ti collapsing against the wall, chest heaving.
"What’s going on?" Chris asked, frowning at Ethan’s pale face.
"See for yourself," Ethan said hoarsely, barely able to get the words out.
Chris gave him a skeptical look, then walked over and leaned out to take a look.
One second.
Two.
Then he dropped like a stone, landing on his ass with a thud, face drained of all color.
"Urgh—"
He doubled over and started vomiting, retching so hard it echoed off the rooftop walls.
Ethan didn’t say anything. He was already pulling out his phone, fingers flying as he dialed 911.
No signal.
He tried again.
And again.
Nothing.
The calls wouldn’t go through.
That’s when it hit him—this wasn’t just a freak incident. This was sothing bigger. Much bigger.
He opened Weibo.
His feed was flooded.
Post after post, all screaming the sa thing: help. Photos. Videos. Desperate ssages. And the images—they were all the sa. People being attacked by blood-eyed monsters. Friends. Family. Neighbors. All turned into sothing else. Sothing that only knew how to bite and tear.
It wasn’t just their campus.
It was everywhere.
The internet had exploded overnight. Theories were flying—most of them pointing to one terrifying conclusion: the apocalypse had begun. Zombies. Just like the movies.
And no one—no governnt, no news outlet, no official source—had co forward to deny it.
Which only made it feel more real.
Ethan scrolled through post after post, watching shaky videos taken from behind curtains, under beds, inside closets. The angles were bad, the lighting worse—but the horror was unmistakable.
By the ti he closed the app, his stomach had dropped to the floor.
He believed it now.
This was the end of the world.
Chris finally stopped dry-heaving and looked up, eyes wide with panic. "Ethan... what the hell is happening?"
Ethan exhaled slowly, like the words themselves weighed a ton. "It’s the apocalypse."
Chris blinked. "The what?"
"Check your phone."
Chris fumbled for his own, scrolled for a few seconds, and then went pale all over again.
"Shit... Ethan, what do we do?"
Ethan didn’t hesitate. "First, we block the rooftop door. If those things get up here, we’re screwed."
He was already moving, scanning the rooftop for anything heavy enough to wedge against the iron door. He’d grown up fending for himself—this wasn’t the first ti he’d had to think fast. But it was definitely the first ti the stakes were this high.
After a few minutes of searching, the two finally found sothing useful tucked away in a corner of the rooftop—a long aluminum ladder, probably left behind by a maintenance worker.
Together, they dragged it over and wedged one end against the iron door and the other against the base of the rooftop wall. It wasn’t elegant, but it held firm. Tight enough that even if sothing tried to force the door open, it wouldn’t budge easily.
The rooftop wasn’t a place people visited often. With any luck, the zombies wouldn’t think to co up here. For now, they were safe.
"Ethan... what do we do next?" Chris asked, still pale, his voice low. "Just wait here for rescue?"
Ethan shook his head, his tone grim. "Waiting’s not an option. From what I saw online, the whole world’s gone to hell. The governnt’s probably too busy trying to survive themselves. No way they’re organizing rescues anyti soon. If we just sit here, we’ll starve before help ever shows up."
"Then what?"
"First, we observe. Watch how these things move, how they react. We’ve got a good vantage point—we can see the whole courtyard from here. And we keep checking online. Maybe soone’s figured out how to fight them."
Chris nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
Down below, the screams were fading. Not because things were getting better—just the opposite. The people who’d been screaming were either dead... or sothing worse. The zombies seed hypersensitive to sound. Screaming only made you die faster.
It wasn’t just their dorm. The surrounding buildings had gone through the sa cycle—panic, chaos, then silence. Now, only the low, guttural snarls of the undead echoed through the campus.
"Ethan," Chris said after a long pause, "how do you think this started? I an... so many people turned. But we didn’t. Why?"
Ethan frowned. "I don’t know. Maybe we just got lucky. I an, yeah, a lot of people turned, but not everyone. There are still survivors out there. Two out of four in our room? That’s not bad odds."
But even as he said it, sothing tugged at the back of his mind.
Last night.
The stars.
That strange, drunken mont when they’d both seen nine stars in the Big Dipper. And that red "North Star" falling from the sky.
His eyes drifted upward again, scanning the morning sky. Nothing unusual now. Just blue and clouds. He shook his head and pushed the thought aside.
"Still," Chris said, "what about Liam and Henry? You think they’re okay?"
Ethan’s expression darkened. "No idea. We weren’t there. It’s just the two of them in the dorm, so they had better odds than most. But if even one of them turned..."
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Chris went quiet, lips pressed tight. Then, suddenly, he scrambled for his phone. "I’m calling them."
Ethan reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Wait. Who are you calling—her, or your family?"
"My parents, obviously. I need to know if they’re okay."
"Then don’t."
Chris blinked. "What? Why not?"
"You saw what’s happening down there. This thing’s global. If your parents are still safe, a phone ringing could get them killed. Zombies are drawn to sound. You call, and that ringtone might be the last thing they hear."
Chris froze, phone halfway to his ear. Then, slowly, he lowered it and tucked it away, his face pale again. "Shit... you’re right. Damn, Ethan. Good call."
"If you really want to make a call, you could always check in on your ex," Ethan said with a smirk.
Chris gave a dry laugh. "Nah. She screwed over, but I’m not petty enough to get her killed. We’re done. She’s just another stranger now."
Ethan nodded. "Fair enough. I was just ssing with you. Glad you’re thinking straight."
"Don’t worry, man. I’m not that fragile."
"Good. We’re gonna need that."
Chris leaned back against the wall, staring up at the sky. "Ethan... what if the phones go out? Like, no signal at all?"
"They will," Ethan said without missing a beat. "If the zombies take out the cell towers, we’re screwed. Phones’ll be nothing but flashlights."
Chris groaned. "Great."
"So while we’ve still got signal, better start downloading so movies. You’ll thank when we’re bored out of our minds."
"...You’re unbelievable."
"And if the battery dies?" Ethan added, grinning.
"Let guess—use it as a weapon?"
"Exactly. Bricks don’t co with Gorilla Glass."
...
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