“Damn it all to hell!”

  Billy Jean had been greeting politely like this for 138 days straight, and it’d been 138 days since she’d turned into a zombie too.

  After the apocalypse hit, she didn’t unlock any super cool powers.

  With her drop-dead gorgeous looks, she was like a defenseless little bunny, with danger lurking around every corner.

  She was sick and tired of living that way.

  Besides, she didn’t have a care in the world or any family left.

  Instead of hiding and shaking like a leaf every day, scared out of her wits of getting hurt by other survivors or getting chomped on by zombies, she figured it’d be easier to just become a walking, brainless corpse.

  No thoughts, no consciousness, no pain.

  So, that’s exactly what she did.

  She picked out the handsomest zombie and shoved her delicate arm right into its mouth.

  And sure enough, after getting bitten, she joined the zombie troops.

  Her limbs all stiff, she shuffled along, groaning like something out of a horror flick.

  Her eyes were all cloudy, like they were smeared with a gross film.

  Her body was ice-cold, and her ashen-green face looked like death warmed over.

  She was rotting away and straight-up terrifying.

  But Billy Jean, who used to be the belle of East University, was actually okay with it.

  This way, she could blend right in with the zombie horde.

  Everything was going peachy until she realized she still had her freaking consciousness!

  Wasn’t she supposed to be a mindless, shambling mess?

  What the heck!

  “Ugh…”

  Billy Jean puked right on the spot, grossed out by her own self.

  Looking at her decaying skin, she couldn’t handle it, so she decided to call it quits.

  She was dead set on ending it all.

  But guess what?

  She couldn’t even die.

  She took a leap off a tall building, brains splattering everywhere.

  But in a flash, she was up and about again.

  Cue the waterworks!

  The first thing she did when she got up was barf.

  “Ugh…”

  Enduring the nausea, she scooped up her brains and stuffed them back into her cracked-open head, then sewed it up with a needle she found.

  Well… it was still gross, but better than before.

  During a shootout, a bullet whizzed through her head.

  All the other zombies dropped like flies when their heads got hit, but not her.

  She was still kicking.

  Even when her head got chopped off, her eyes were still rolling around.

  With no other choice, her body had to pick up the head and sew it back on.

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  And just like that, Billy Jean had to accept the fact that she was basically immortal.

  What a fuck!

  At that moment, Billy Jean was sprawled out on the road, catching some rays.

  Thinking back on everything, she couldn’t help but curse under her breath again.

  “Crack!”

  The sound of her leg bone snapping echoed.

  Since zombies don’t feel pain, she didn’t even flinch.

  But she still shot a dirty look at the zombie that stepped on her.

  “Roar… "Hey, you blind? Didn’t see there’s a person..nah.. corpse here?"

  The zombie stared back with its empty eye sockets, blood dripping down.

  “Roar… Trying to fake an accident and extort money? Fuck off!”

  Billy Jean was fuming and confused.

  How dare it accuse her of faking an accident?

  She’d been a saint her whole life, wouldn’t even squash a bug.

  Would she fake an accident? Ridiculous!

  Damn it all to hell!

  An ant crawled into her festering flesh.

  Billy Jean smacked it hard, killing the ant but also knocking off a chunk of her rotting skin, exposing the white bone.

  She was heartbroken.

  After all, every bit of her decaying flesh was precious.

  She didn’t want to end up as just a skeleton while still being “alive.”

  With her joints creaking, she carefully picked up the rotten piece, laid it over the bone, and sewed it up.

  After months of sewing herself back together, she’d gotten pretty good at it.

  Thanks to her handiwork, she wasn’t missing any limbs like some of the other zombies.

  At least she was all in one piece.

  Billy Jean looked at her rotting arm.

  “Ugh…”

  This was the 1086th time she'd managed to gross herself out and puke.

  She was getting used to it.

  Just then, all the zombies on the street went nuts.

  Billy Jean’s cloudy eyes flashed red too.

  The smell of humans.

  It made the zombies drool like crazy.

  They all charged off towards the source, flailing their arms.

  Billy Jean, hobbling on her broken leg because of some stupid zombie instinct, was slower than a snail.

  “Roar… Save me a sip, guys. Thanks a ton!”

  Billy Jean roared at the zombies around her as they zoomed past her.

  At first, she'd tried her best to resist feeding.

  But it was way worse than kicking a serious drug habit.

  Her whole being trembled in sheer agony.

  And if she didn't feed for a while, she'd turn into a raging maniac and go after humans like a bloodthirsty beast.

  Her human side just couldn't stand the thought of becoming a monster that attacked people on sight.

  So, to keep from going berserk, she forced herself to start feeding.

  She remembered her first time.

  She barfed non-stop for three days and nights.

  She'd only taken a tiny sip of blood, and even though it tasted sickeningly sweet, she just couldn't stomach it in her heart.

  But she had no choice.

  She was a zombie, and that was that.

  So, she was stuck in this never-ending loop of eating, puking, and then eating again.

  Finally, she came up with a trick.

  She poured the blood into a tall, elegant wine glass and tricked herself into thinking it was a fine red wine.

  Only then could she sort of tolerate it.

  Her food source?

  Freshly dead bodies.

  By slicing their wrists, she could get a cup of warm, thick blood.

  Billy Jean finally hobbled to the place, moving at a snail's pace.

  What she saw was a gruesome sight.

  Bodies were strewn everywhere.

  There must've been a hell of a fight.

  The stench of blood filled the air, making her nostrils flare.

  Many zombies were already feasting.

  Some were chowing down on guts that burst open with a sickening squish, others were gobbling up fresh brains.

  "Crunch… crunch…"

  The creepy sound of bones and flesh being torn apart echoed all around.

  Billy Jean was super picky.

  Too fat? Too greasy.

  Too ugly? It killed her appetite.

  Too old? Her teeth couldn't handle it.

  Too young? She just couldn't bring herself to bite.

  She searched high and low but found nothing to her liking.

  Then, a gentle breeze blew by.

  Billy Jean's eyes flashed red.

  A rich, pure scent of blood wafted over.

  It smelled divine.

  She'd never smelled anything so mouthwatering.

  It was like a siren's call, and she couldn't help but follow it.

  Finally, in a secluded corner, she found the body.

  The tall figure was slumped against the wall, his head tilted back.

  His face was deathly pale, but he was incredibly handsome, like a god come down to earth.

  One leg was bent, and an arm casually rested on it.

  Blood oozed from the wound on his chest, staining half of his body a deep red.

  So fragrant.

  Billy Jean couldn't stop growling in excitement.

  She'd made up her mind.

  This was the one.

  But there was something familiar about him.

  Billy Jean tilted her head, squinting at the handsome corpse.

  Her sluggish brain tried to figure out who he was.

  Ever since she became a zombie, her movements were slow, and her thoughts were even slower.

  After thinking for ages, she still drew a blank.

  Oh well.

  He was dead. Time to eat.

  Billy Jean rummaged through her LV bag and pulled out her "eating utensils"—a tall wine glass.

  “Ding..”

  She flicked the rim of the glass with her fingertip, and a clear, crisp sound rang out.

  Billy Jean tilted her head back slightly, lost in the beautiful sound.

  If anyone saw her like this, they'd probably die laughing.

  A zombie making such a strange expression.

  Billy Jean crouched down stiffly and placed the tall wine glass on the ground.

  With her rigid hand, she made the sign of the cross on her chest.

  "Amen."

  Her pre-meal ritual was done.

  She reached out her rotting hand towards the hand with perfect, defined knuckles resting on the bent knee.

  She grasped the big hand.

  Her body was ice-cold, and the hand felt so warm in comparison.

  For some reason, a sense of familiarity tugged at her heart.

  Just then, a pair of bottomless, icy black eyes snapped open, glinting with a sharp light.

  Billy Jean froze, her heart pounding in her chest.

  She finally realized who he was.