-Otto's P.O.V-

It had been 10 days since the outbreak. Ten whole days since everything change. Zombies roamed the streets looking for anything to pound until it stopped moving, while others would mutate into stranger creatures. The home I had represented everything around me: Empty shells. Everything was quiet, save for the distance roar of a giant hulking zombie or the gunfire of a person who was desperate to survive. I ignored both, for I couldn't go near either. The zombie that they all call a Tank would just crush me along with whatever else it could get it's hands on. And the people...they'd just shoot me before running away in fear. Can't blame them though, since my skin's as gray as the other zombies around me. My name is Otto Axford, and I'm an outcast from both zombies and people.

I guess it all started just before the infection became known. I lived with my family in a quiet neighborhood. Nothing special about me. Just a regular kid in the world. School, family, home life, etc. I remember the day very well when it all changed. I was sitting in my room before I started coughing. I ignored it a first and kept listening to my music, only to keep on coughing. It got worse after that as my vision blurred, my mind grew hazy, and my strength left me before I just collapsed on the bed. After that, everything was a blur.

It felt like forever before I finally woke up. I didn't feel like shit anymore, but I definitely felt...different. I rose up out of bed feeling groggy as I fumbled toward the bathroom. It took some doing, but I finally found the light switch and flicked it on. I instantly regretted that decision. I saw in the mirror a 17 year old wearing a plaid jacket with a white shirt underneath, blue jeans, a green cap covering my blue dyed hair, and black shoes. All of which was covering my...pale gray skin. It was just one bit of madness after another from then on. My family? Dead. My neighborhood? Dead. My hometown? Dead. Everywhere I went was full of dead...and yet they all kept moving.

-Present-

I've been wondering the streets since then with no destination in particular. All the other zombies just ignored me like I wasn't even there as I went on. Somehow I was different from them. I knew who I was and I didn't fly off the handle and attack anyone or anything. I just kept wandering around bored until I heard a helicopter making an announcement as it flew through the streets.

"TO ANYONE WHO CAN HEAR THIS! PROCEED TO MERCY HOSPITAL FOR EVACUATION! REPEAT! PROCEED TO MERCY HOSPITAL FOR EVACUATION!"

"Mercy Hospital?" I said before walking off. I walked for a few moments before I heard gunfire coming from a nearby building. "Survivors huh?" I said before sighing. "Why not? Maybe they won't shoot me...And maybe I'll grow an extra head and fly with wings on my ass." I said before chuckling. I looked around before seeing a house with a plus in it on the wall of a building. "Guess the safe house that survivors use is this way. Alright!" And without another word, I took off.

-Some time later-

It took a bit of running, but I found my way toward the safe house door. I opened it and walked inside before closing it.

"Hopefully they'll listen to me." Otto said as he heard the sound of gunfire getting closer.

A/N: This is a new fic I've thought to try. Hope you like it.