The blood on my hands wasn't mine.
My girlfriend's severed head stared up at me from the apartment floor, her beautiful brown eyes now clouded with death.
The thing wearing her body stood three feet away, black veins crawling up its neck like twisted roots.
"Alex..." it whispered with her voice. "Help me..."
This morning, I was worried about my midterm exams.
The thought felt alien now, like remembering someone else's life.
Six hours ago, I'd been Alex Chen, twenty-one-year-old college student whose biggest concern was whether Maya would forgive me for forgetting our anniversary dinner last week.
Now Maya's corpse was asking for help while her head rolled against my shoe.
"You're not her," I whispered, backing toward the kitchen.
The thing that used to be Maya tilted its headless neck. "I'm so cold, Alex. So hungry."
Move. Move, you coward.
But my legs felt like concrete. This morning, the worst thing I could imagine was failing organic chemistry.
Now I was watching my girlfriend's body stumble forward, arms outstretched, while her head whispered my name from the floor.
The news had called it a "viral outbreak."
Viral outbreak. Like it was the fucking flu.
The emergency broadcast said to stay indoors. Wait for help. The military would restore order within forty-eight hours.
That was six hours ago.
Now the screaming had stopped outside. The gunfire had stopped too. Even the sirens had gone quiet.
The only sound was Maya's bare feet slapping against the hardwood as she lurched toward me.
"I just need a little bite," she cooed. "Then I'll feel better."
My back hit the kitchen counter. The knife block sat two inches from my right hand.
She's already dead, I told myself. Whatever this is, Maya died when that thing bit her neck.
But her voice sounded so normal. So her.
"You loved me yesterday," the headless thing said, reaching for my face. "Love me now."
Yesterday she was planning our summer trip to her parents' house in Oregon. Yesterday she made me laugh by doing that terrible impression of Professor Martinez. Yesterday she was alive.
Her fingers brushed my cheek.
They were ice cold.
I grabbed the largest knife from the block and drove it into her chest.
Maya's body staggered backward, looking down at the blade protruding from between her breasts. Black blood oozed around the steel.
"That hurts," her head said from the floor, sounding genuinely confused. "Why would you hurt me?"
The body pulled out the knife and dropped it.
The wound closed like it was never there.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
"Maya, I'm sorry, I—"
"I forgive you." The body reached for me again. "Now let me eat."
This time I ran.
I bolted for the front door, stepping over her head. Maya's eyes tracked my movement.
"Don't leave me here alone," she called out. "I'm scared, Alex."
She's not Maya, I repeated like a mantra. She's not Maya she's not Maya she's not—
I yanked the door open.
The hallway was a slaughterhouse.
Mrs. Rodriguez from 4B was kneeling over her grandson's body, tearing strips of flesh from his small arms with her teeth. Mr. Thompson stood in his doorway, half his face missing, holding what looked like someone's spine.
They all turned to look at me.
Fuck.
I slammed the door and engaged every lock. My hands shook so bad I could barely turn the deadbolt.
Behind me, Maya's body had found her head. She was cradling it against her chest like a baby.
"The mean people outside want to hurt us," she said in that sweet, familiar voice. "But we'll be safe together. Forever and ever."
Her body sat down on the couch, positioning her head in her lap.
"Sit with me, Alex. Hold my hand."
This isn't real. This is a nightmare. Any second now I'll wake up and Maya will be next to me complaining about her alarm clock and everything will be normal.
But the blood under my fingernails felt real. The stench of decay flooding the apartment smelled real.
And Maya's dead eyes looked very, very real.
I backed toward the bedroom, never taking my eyes off her.
"Where are you going?" her head asked. "I thought we could watch Netflix. Remember how we were halfway through that zombie show?"
Zombie show.
The irony would have been funny if I wasn't about to piss myself.
I made it to the bedroom and locked that door too. Then I grabbed my phone and tried calling 911 for the twentieth time.
The number you have dialed is not in service.
Of course it fucking isn't.
I tried my parents in California. Dead line.
My brother in New York. Dead line.
Every number in my contacts. Dead, dead, dead.
What kind of virus spreads this fast?
Outside the bedroom window, I could see downtown Portland burning. Smoke pillars rose from at least a dozen buildings.
A helicopter had crashed into the side of the Wells Fargo tower.
The military would restore order within forty-eight hours.
Sure they would.
A soft knock echoed from the bedroom door.
"Alex?" Maya's voice was muffled but still impossibly sweet. "I brought you something."
I pressed my back against the wall. "Go away."
"I brought your favorite snacks. Those Cheetos you hide in your desk drawer."
She remembered.
Even dead, wearing her own head like a fucking hat, she remembered my guilty pleasure junk food.
Stop it. Stop thinking of her as Maya.
"Come on, baby," she cooed. "Open the door. Let's talk about this."
Talk about this. Like we were having a relationship argument instead of a zombie apocalypse.
The knocking got louder.
Then it stopped.
I waited, barely breathing.
Something heavy slammed against the door.
The wood cracked.
SLAM.
Another impact. The doorframe splintered.
SLAM.
She's breaking down the door. Maya's breaking down the door to eat me.
How is she that strong?
SLAM.
One of the hinges popped loose.
I was trapped. The bedroom window faced a three-story drop onto concrete. The door was about to give way.
This is it. This is how I die. Eaten alive by my girlfriend in our shitty apartment.
Some anniversary gift.
The door exploded inward.
Maya's body stood in the doorway, head tucked under one arm like a football.
Her mouth was open, revealing teeth that definitely hadn't been there this morning.
Long, sharp canines dripping with black saliva.
"Found you," she giggled.
That's when the world went white.
Pain like I'd never imagined ripped through my chest.
It felt like being struck by lightning, shot with electricity, and hit by a truck all at once.
I looked down and saw a small, glowing orb buried in my ribs. It was the size of a marble, pulsing with golden light.
What the hell—
[HEAVENLY TRIAL SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
The words appeared in glowing text directly in front of my eyes, like a video game interface.
[IMMORTAL CORE DETECTED]
[HOST COMPATIBILITY: 100%]
[INITIALIZING SURVIVAL PROTOCOLS]
Maya's body froze mid-step, her head tilting in confusion.
"What's that pretty light?" she asked.
[FIRST TRIAL INITIATED]
[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE THE AWAKENING]
[REWARD: QI CONDENSATION MANUAL]
[FAILURE PENALTY: DEATH]
The golden orb in my chest exploded outward.
Everything went black.
When I opened my eyes, Maya was gone.
Her body lay in pieces across the bedroom floor.
And I was holding a sword that definitely hadn't been there before.
[TRIAL COMPLETE]
[CONGRATULATIONS, ALEX CHEN]
[WELCOME TO THE END OF THE WORLD]