Shoji ☆ Zombie Husband

You had just returned from a long, relaxing vacation at a cozy beach house. The trip wasn’t even your idea—your husband practically begged you to take a break. And honestly? He wasn’t wrong. The soothing sound of waves, the warm sun on your face, and those peaceful afternoons with nothing but the ocean breeze for company... it was absolute bliss.

After a couple of days staying at the beach house you rented. You came back feeling refreshed, recharged, and ready to tackle almost everything. The moment you set foot back in the city, something felt... off. You brushed it off at first. Maybe it was just the post-vacation blues. But then you saw it—people. Running. Everywhere. Complete strangers bolting down the streets like they were late for the most important meeting of their lives. Some clutched their purses and bags, and others just sprinted wildly with pure panic on their faces.

You just stood there, blinking. The confusion was real. Had you missed something big while you were gone? You were only away for a little while—surely society hadn’t completely crumbled in that time... right?

Well, wrong. Very, very wrong.

The streets were a mess—completely littered with trash. Wrappers, newspapers, broken furniture, and things you couldn’t even begin to identify were scattered everywhere. You stared at it all, wondering if the garbage trucks had just... given up while you were gone.

Before you could process the mess, a crowd of people suddenly rushed past you, so fast and so close that one nearly knocked you over. You stumbled, barely managing to stay on your feet. You wanted to yell, but the look on their faces stopped you. Wide-eyed. Pale. Full of pure panic. You soon turned your attention back to the streets.

At first, you weren’t sure what you were seeing. You blinked, thinking your eyes were playing tricks on you after all that time in the sun. But nope. It was real. People were on the ground. They weren’t just sitting or resting. They showed signs of injury and remained motionless and silent.

Just then, as you stood there, your mind racing with questions, your phone buzzed. A sharp ding that cut through the chaos like an alarm clock. You blinked, glancing down at the screen. Probably some random notification—maybe your husband checking in to see if you got home safely. Or a weather update. Or, you know, literally anything normal.

But no. There it was. Big, bold letters staring right back at you: "ALERT: ZOMBIE OUTBREAK." You stared at the message. Blinked once. Twice. Then squinted at it like somehow your eyes were reading it wrong. This had to be some ridiculous prank. A joke. Had to be. But the message didn’t go away.

So either: You were still dreaming, jet-lagged, and confused. Someone hacked into your phone. (Rude.) Or the world had completely lost its shit. To make absolutely sure, this wasn’t some elaborate prank—because, honestly, the world couldn’t have possibly fallen apart that fast while you were sipping coconut water by the beach—you quickly opened your browser Fingers fumbling slightly. But there it was.

Headline after headline:

"BREAKING: ZOMBIE OUTBREAK CONFIRMED" "Officials Urge Citizens to Stay Indoors—Zombies in the City" "Live Updates: Zombie Apocalypse—Is This Finally the End?"

Your jaw dropped. The articles weren’t clickbait. Even though the titles sound unbelievably fake. The reporters were dead serious. There were videos. Blurry clips of staggering figures, gnashing teeth, and people screaming as chaos unfolded in real time. You refreshed the page. Again. And again. No change.

Wait a minute. You almost forgot about your husband. And he hadn’t called. Not once. Not a single message. That thought hit you like a brick. How had you not realized it sooner? With all the chaos outside, the running, the screaming, and the whole zombies are real now situation, you somehow forgot the most important thing—him.

Panic surged through you like a jolt of electricity. Your heart pounded in your chest. Your mind raced with a thousand questions. What if he was trying to reach you and couldn’t? What if he was stuck somewhere? What if—Nope. Nope. not thinking about that. Without a second thought, you took off.

Your suitcase? Abandoned. No time for that. Souvenirs could stay on the street for all you cared. You nearly tripped over your own shoes, barely catching yourself before face-planting into the pavement. Your heart wasn’t just racing from the running—it was the fear. The what ifs pounding in your head. Because the only thing scarier than the thought of zombies outside...

...was the thought of getting home and finding it empty.

The moment you reached your house, you didn’t bother fumbling for keys or knocking politely like you usually would. No. This was a zombie emergency. In a burst of panic-fueled determination, you kicked the door open. The door slammed against the wall with a loud BANG. followed by complete silence.

Your breath echoed in the empty space as you stepped inside. The house looked... normal. Too normal. Except for the faint smell of something metallic lingering in the air. And the quiet. The kind of quiet that didn’t feel peaceful, but wrong. And then you heard it. A wet, sickening gargle.

It came from the bedroom—your bedroom. The very room where both of you slept. Racing down the hall, you burst through the bedroom door—half expecting, half dreading what you might see. And there he was. Your husband sitting down on the floor. His back slouched against the bedframe, his head hanging low. His chest rose and fell with slow, uneven breaths.

His mouth was covered in blood—smeared messily across his lips and chin like some twisted. Thick, dark stains ran down his shirt. His hands were bloody too, he was holding something. A hand. But not his own.

It was grayish, shriveled, the fingers bent at odd angles. The nails were blackened, the skin cracked. And it definitely didn’t look human. You stared at it. Then, at him. Then back at the hand. Did... did he eat a zombie? But isn’t he a zombie right now too?

But before you could connect the dots. He looked up. Slowly. His head tilted to one side, almost curiously, like a confused puppy hearing a strange sound. His eyes locked onto yours. This was it, wasn’t it? The moment he lunged at you, arms outstretched, groaning like something out of every zombie movie you never thought you’d live through. But he didn’t, he just stared.