Heavy drops of rain were falling from the sky. Gray and cold, they struck the asphalt with dull thuds, leaving murky circles spreading across the puddles.
And of course, it had to be today — the very day when I, like a rare snail, crawled out of my shell — that I forgot my umbrella.
A light sigh escaped my lips. Go back? Too lazy. And what would be the point? I was already soaked to the bone. Pulling the hood down to my eyes and shoving my hands into my pockets, I quickened my pace, hoping to make it to the store. The nearest twenty-four-hour supermarket was only a couple of minutes away, and I knew the route by heart. Boring. Ordinary.
But today everything was different. Only at that time, I did not yet understand it.
I jumped over puddles, saving my sneakers from certain doom. The drops drummed against my hood, and the world before me narrowed into a gray veil. There was only one thought in my head: "Get under a roof faster."
That was probably why I was so blind.
The street seemed frighteningly empty. No cars. No voices. Only the sound of rain. Somewhere off to the side lay an overturned trash can, shards of glass glinting in the puddles. And further on… dark stains. Too thick and too dark to be dirt.
But my hood blocked my view, and the rain drowned out the sounds. I was running too fast to notice.
I burst into the store, hastily slamming the door behind me.
Ding!
The bell above the entrance rang sharply, too loudly in the unnatural silence.
And the next second, I froze.
The cold barrel of a rifle was aimed directly at my face.
The cashier stood a couple of steps away from me. His uniform was smeared with brown blood, dried into the fabric. His face was paler than chalk, and in his eyes was such wild fear, as if before him stood not a random passerby, but a monster.
"Y-you… you're human, right?.."
I lost the power of speech.
Human?..
Of course I'm human! What else would I look like? Yes, I had stayed at home for two weeks, ignoring the outside world. Yes, I look, to put it mildly, not like a supermodel. But not that bad?!
However, the barrel did not lower. The cashier's hands were trembling, but his gaze was terrifyingly serious. Not a hint of a smile. Not a drop of doubt that he had the right to keep me in his sights.
I swallowed.
Now was definitely not the time for sarcasm.
"Y-yes… I'm human," I answered carefully, trying to keep my voice steady.
He stared at my face as if scanning it for lies.
"Are you infected?"
I blinked.
Infected? With what? I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. But in any case, I wasn't sick with anything. As far as I knew. So I slowly shook my head.
For several endless seconds he drilled into me with his eyes, apparently expecting me to growl or lunge at him. Then his shoulders sagged. He exhaled with such relief, as if he had cast off a heavy burden, and lowered the rifle.
But the tension did not disappear. He was still looking at me with suspicion, like at a ticking bomb.
"Miss… what are you doing here?" he asked hoarsely. "Do you have a weapon?"
"What?.. A weapon?" I blinked in confusion. "Why would I?"
The man in the blood-soaked uniform stared at me as if I were an alien.
"What do you mean — why?" he gave a nervous chuckle. There was not a trace of amusement in it. "Don't you see what's going on outside? How can you go out without a weapon?!"
A chill ran down my spine.
Outside?..
I remembered the empty sidewalks. The silence. The overturned trash can. The shards. And those dark stains…
"And what… happened?" I asked cautiously.
He froze.
"You don't know?"
"I…" I awkwardly clutched the wet sleeve of my hoodie. "I haven't left the house for two weeks. So… did something serious happen?"
The silence became thick, almost tangible.
The cashier was taken aback. He looked at me as if I had confessed to something even stranger than not having a weapon. Blinked. Once. Twice.
"Two weeks ago…" he finally exhaled, and his voice sounded dull. "Two weeks ago a zombie apocalypse began all over the world."
"What?.." I breathed out.
"Our country was one of the first. Most are already dead… or turned. The army couldn't handle it. The survivors are hiding in shelters." He peered into my face. "Do you seriously not watch the news?"
My reality cracked.
A zombie apocalypse?
Where's the hidden camera? Is this some kind of prank? A new stupid joke?
I hadn't left the house for two weeks. Yes, I had been living in my cozy digital cocoon. But for the world to collapse in that time?!
I went outside for a heroic deed — to buy my favorite bacon-flavored chips and cola. And it turns out civilization no longer exists.
Absurd.
My brain refused to accept it.
"No…" I said slowly. "I don't read the news…"
"Well, I'll be…" the man wearily ran a hand over his face, smearing dried blood across his cheek. "Unbelievable. You seriously stayed home for two whole weeks?"
I hesitated.
"Yes…"
Because I'm a hikikomori.
Everything mixed in his gaze: judgment, incomprehension, and the abyss of exhaustion of a man who had survived hell.
He sighed heavily.
"All right…" his voice softened. "You're lucky. There's a shelter not far from here. I'll take you. And…" he scratched the back of his head, "here. I have a spare knife."
He reached under the counter.
And at that moment I felt such warm, sincere gratitude toward him. A stranger, covered in someone else's blood, in the middle of a collapsed world where, according to him, people were hunting one another… still extending a hand to help a strange girl who had gone out for chips.
The world had fallen. But humanity — not yet.
"Thank you…" I said quietly.
But I did not manage to finish.
Crash!
Something heavy fell behind the shelves. Cans rolled with a clatter.
And from behind the racks, dragging its limbs crookedly, something tumbled out.
Gray. Twisted. With a head bent at an unnatural angle.
"Damn it!" the cashier raised the rifle. "I locked him in the back room! How did he get out?!"
I did not have time to react.
Did not have time to be afraid.
Did not even have time to comprehend.
The creature lunged at me faster than I could blink. The stench of rot hit my nose. Cold, sticky fingers dug into my shoulders.
A gaping maw.
And a blinding, savage pain in my throat.
The world tilted and overturned.
Somewhere far away a shot rang out. But too late.
I was falling to the floor, among scattered chips and shards of glass. Blood spread across the tiles, mixing with the rainwater dripping from my hood.
That's how I died.
From a zombie.
During a zombie apocalypse.
How damn unfair…
***
You know, I suppose I should introduce myself. Every hero, even one as worthless as me, has a backstory.
My life was… boring.
I was always quiet. Company exhausted me, empty conversations irritated me, and the real world seemed too loud and demanding. No sports, no hobbies, no grand dream. I only had games.
It was for them that I dropped out of university. It wasn't a spontaneous decision, but a slow, lazy slide. First I skipped classes for a new RPG, then I stopped preparing for exams, and then I simply stopped leaving the house.
I decided to become a streamer.
It sounded beautiful. But the result was depressing.
In a year of active streaming, I gained a whole… three hundred subscribers. Silent ones. They just watched without commenting. It felt like I was talking to myself. Donations never came.
So my parents still supported me.
My parents, though divorced, somehow managed to unite when it came to criticizing me.
They argued. Said I was wasting my life. That I needed to "go out into the real world." That games were not a future.
They probably despised me.
But I didn't care.
Or I just convinced myself that I didn't.
The last game I was streaming was called 'Crown of the Frozen Throne.' A typical harem story: a female protagonist, love interests, dialogue choices, and a bunch of endings. Nothing special, but it unexpectedly blew up on social media, and I decided to ride the hype.
And it worked! The views went up. People started writing in the chat. Someone even wrote: "Found you through a recommendation." For me, it was a triumph.
Today was supposed to be the final stream. The final battle with the main villainess. A beautiful ending to the series.
Nevertheless, there wasn't a crumb of food left at home. So I had to go out.
And who would have thought that my first outing in a long time would end with me being eaten by a zombie?
I should have stayed home.
How the hell did the world manage to collapse while I was living in my cocoon? And I didn't even find out about it.
I don't read the news. I don't watch TV. My world is the monitor screen.
The irony is that the end of the world did not come suddenly.
I simply did not notice it…
Oh well. It's too late for regrets anyway.
I'm already dead.
Or am I?
…What?
A bright light struck my eyes. Dazzling white, as if someone had turned on a spotlight directly in my face. Is this a post-mortem hallucination? That very "light at the end of the tunnel" people like to talk about?
Or…
I sharply opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw was fabric. Light-colored, expensive, with delicate embroidery along the edges. Above me rose a canopy adorned with fine patterns. The ceiling was high, with stucco and gilding.
I blinked slowly.
An unfamiliar room.
Large. Luxurious. With heavy curtains, a marble fireplace, and expensive furniture. I was lying on a soft bed.
And… breathing.
Hm?
What is happening?
There is no pain. No wound. No bite marks.
I'm… alive?
But I clearly remember how—
Ding!
A transparent window flashed before my eyes. Like an interface in a game.
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
[Welcome, User!]
To initiate the broadcast, please specify the channel name.
Recommended title:
[ "Villainess Survival: Challenge" ]
— reflects your current objective and will attract viewers' attention.
[ Confirm ] [ Change ]