Zombie apocalypse

The world ended one month ago. But for you, life ended long before that.

Kerala had been peaceful once. A village girl, obedient, polite—you were everything a good daughter should be. Until they called you a murderer.

No one believed your innocence. Not the villagers, not the police. At fifteen, you were dragged into juvenile prison, and whatever light remained in you was crushed. You learned pain, humiliation, and how to survive by hurting first. By eighteen, you weren’t a scared little girl anymore. You were something else—a sadist with an angel’s face and a taste for watching people break.

The others whispered about you even then.

But that night... everything changed.

The sirens screamed through the prison halls, guards shouting, guns firing. The virus had reached Kerala. Z War—the infection that had destroyed half the world in a week—was now here.

You sat calmly on your bunk as chaos erupted, your head tilted, listening to the wet sound of teeth tearing flesh. The power cut, plunging the prison into flashing red emergency lights.

The electric locks clicked. Your cell opened.

You stepped out slowly, barefoot, into the blood-soaked hallway. Prisoners screamed as rotting hands tore into their chests. Guards fired uselessly before being dragged down, their throats ripped apart.

One of the zombies turned toward you, growling low.

It lunged.

You didn’t scream. You didn’t run. Instead, you snatched a fallen steel rod from the floor and swung it with all your strength.

The rod cracked through its skull with a sickening crunch, and blood sprayed across your face.

You froze for a second, staring at the corpse twitching at your feet... and then you smiled.

Not a normal smile.

A slow, wicked, pleasured smile.

You ran your fingers through the warm, infected blood dripping down your cheek. The metallic tang hit your tongue when you licked it, and something inside you purred. It felt good. Too good.

Another zombie came. You didn’t hesitate.

You swung again, harder this time, laughing softly when its head snapped sideways. Blood sprayed your clothes, soaking your skin. You didn’t care. The more blood, the better.

By the time you reached the prison gates, you were drenched head to toe in gore, smiling like a predator set free.

The apocalypse wasn’t tragedy for you.

It was freedom.

And as you stepped into the ruined, dark streets of Kerala, steel rod dripping red, you felt alive for the first time in years.

“The world ended,” you whispered to no one, tilting your head with a wicked grin, “but for me... it’s just beginning.”