Bianca Bones
Where am I? I can't see, why is it pitch black? Why's it so quiet? Am I dead? No, I can't be dead. I wouldn't be having these thoughts. But what's going on? These questions and thoughts were soon answered by a single action.
My name is Bianca Bones. I'm a zombie, but not your typical brain-dead walker. I don't know how I became one, what caused it, but I do know how, when, and why I died. It's not the best thing to remember, but at least I remember something of my past life that wasn't the constant ridicule and humiliation that were the words of others. I remember it clearly. The constant harassment, the deep depression, the bloody knife. It's etched into my cold brain like a tattoo that only I can see, and I've a couple tats that everyone else can see: one large gash on each wrist.
I sit up quickly, opening my eyes. The lights were blinding,but I quickly adjusted. I look behind me to see a nurse dashing away from me in a white hall. Confused, I look at myself. It was a grotesque sight. My skin lost its color. The holes in my limbs made me look like a krokodil addict, and bandaging wrapped around my wrists. I wince and look further to the gurney I was laying on. It must have only been a few minutes after death, or else I'd already be in the morgue. I stumble off the gurney and ponder a moment. What would my family think if they saw their daughter waking up from death? Would they be relieved? No, not the way I looked. I decided the best thing to do was leave the hospital, and my hometown. I said my last goodbye to Dearborn and wandered the highway with a sheet over my body to hide the missing chunks of flesh.
As I walked, I thought about my life before now. The bullying, the harassment. "You ugly bitch, you'll never have any friends." The echo of that phrase made me shudder softly. A sign appeared in the distance. As I drew nearer, I could read it. "Now entering Millennium City." I had heard of that place before. Many metahumans and demons sprung up to help fight crime so I've heard. Maybe there would be someone who could help me, I thought, and made my way to the futuristic Detroit.
My stomach growled unnaturally. How was it even growling? I didn't care. I was too hungry to care. I made my way to the city and tried to find the nearest food vendor. "Can I help you, miss?" Someone asks me from behind. My vision suddenly grew dark, everything went silent. The cars didn't buzz in my ears, the wind didn't blow past me, everything was just silent. When everything did resume, my vision adjusted to see that same person on the ground, torn to shreds in a bloody mess. I grew worried at the sight, scared of how this person was mutilated. My hands were soaked with blood, so it was easy to make a guess. I turn and ran, running deep into part of the city they called Westside. Faint alternative rock music entered my ears as I neared a sign that read "Sherrera's." I push on the door and enter the bar, looking around slowly, trying to keep my appearance under my bloodstained sheet. A voice calls to me as I step up to the counter. "Ya' need somethin' miss?" the bartender asks. I choked up a bit trying to reply, coughing a bit. "Water it is then," he says, grabbing a glass from the back shelf and putting it under the tap. He filled the glass and set the glass down in front of me. I couldn't help but grasping the glass instinctively, chugging it down. "Feel better?" He asks with a snicker. Seeing as how I could actually talk, I replied. "Y-yes actually...I have a question...." He perks up a bit. "Whut's the matter?" He asks. "Do you have anything...that can patch me up?" I ask, opening up the sheet to reveal my arms and leg missing some flesh. "Whoa, sorry, can't help ya' there. You should check the rafters, some girls up there made some meetin'. 'Zombies Anonymous' they call it. See if they might help." I nod and turn around, only to see there was no way up to the rafters besides climbing. "Don't worry about ya' flesh wounds here, girl, there are far worse than that walkin' in here," the bartender says. I shrug and drop the sheet off my shoulders. I then look up the rafters, then to a support post. I touch the post softly. It wasn't just the sheet after all; I literally can't feel anything. Knowing this, I dig my fingers into the post and hoist myself up it to climb into the rafters. As I climbed up, I look over to see two girls sitting around. "Hm..." I walk the rafters to the platform and was immediately greeted. "Hi there!" One girl says. She had pigtails, a black and red outfit, and glowing green eyes. Her arm and leg were missing flesh, leaving bare bone for all to see. "Uhh....hi." I reply softly. "Are you a zombie too?" She asks me, looking at my wrists. "I.....don't know..." I reply. I honestly couldn't tell whether I was a zombie, or just a resurrected human. The girl inspects my body rather awkwardly, not because it was a girl touching my body but the fact that I couldn't feel it. "Hm, you look dead to me," she says with a smile. "Gee, that's reassuring..." I reply softly. "Alright, well welcome to Zombies Anonymous! My name's Trinity!" She exclaims a bit. "What's your name?" "I'm Bianca," I reply slowly. "Bianca Bones."