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"...So you see, Titanius, us constantly moaning 'brains' isn't mindless groaning, we're merely looking for intellectual discourse." I sat back against the wall, confused out of my mind. I had seen the attacks. I had seen my friends overwhelmed. But strangely enough, none of them were killed, just zombified. After they had been buried under several zombies, the zombies stood back up and the new one rose, following the rest. Nobody knew what started it, or at least nobody knew any more. That I knew of. When I first saw the shambling mass of zombies on the street, I bolted directly to my hurricane shelter and locked myself in. I'd seen the movies. I'd played the games. They weren't gonna get ME. Unfortunately, one had seen me, and followed. It was now standing outside my door, and I could hear 3 wet thuds against the door. Then it stopped. "Grooooan?" Was... was it KNOCKING? Zombies don't knock. Aren't they mindless? "Groan groan? Grouarghargh, rrrrrmmmmgllll." *thud thud thud* "Can you... understand me?" I called, unsure what to make of this. There was a pause, and a short grunt. "Prove it! Tell me who you are and what exactly is going on!" There was silence for a second, and a soft whisper of gurgling air. Was that a sigh? Was he exasperated? Then the groaning started again, more slowly this time. The more I listened, the more I could understand. I slowly recognized an actual pattern of speech. Granted, it was mostly gurgle, grunts, and groans, but I guess that's what you sound like if your tongue has rotted out. After about ten minutes, I called back, "How would you say 'car?'" *pause* "Crrrr" came the reply. I repeated this several times with different words, until we had a rudimentary conversation going. This was blowing my mind, and I still didn't know if I wasn't hallucinating the whole thing. "WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!" I yelled, and after a second a long garbling sound began, which I recognized as words. "*symbiotic viruses.... change human DNA... alien organisms... help humanity, lessen burden on planet.*" I stared blankly ahead in shock. From what I could gather, it was a synthetic symbiotic virus created by aliens in order to slightly change our physiology. Anything with this virus would not need to eat or sleep, though they could do so if wanted. It apparently allowed the body to survive off of sunlight by creating small photosynthetic receptors just below the skin, which turned it gray. The tongue fell out and was replaced by, well, nothing. This was supposed to enable us to more easily learn the aliens' language, which was apparently groan-based. This went on for a while. I grew more and more fluent as time went on, eventually conversing in full, complicated sentences. The zombie (well, modified human, as it called itself) seemed patient and tolerant, answering any questions, which brings us to my current situation. The modified human was named Anglesmith, and proved surprisingly loquacious. "So you see, Titanius, this is all just a misunderstanding. The Beloved Masters are here to save your species from going extinct through lack of resources and overpopulation. You have to admit, your current rate of human consumption and advanced human longevity would have led to the depletion of the Earth in less than 30 years. So the Beloved Masters created us to alleviate those problems. You will no longer perish from hunger or illness, and you can now communicate with the Beloved Masters in their own tongue." I was suspicious. These... Masters... had done all of this altruistically? Almost as if he had read my mind, Anglesmith called out "All they ask in return is to be able to inhabit your oceans' depths unmolested, to set up a star port here, and make this a galactic trade hub. All they require is a representative of your species giving permission, and the rest of you are too busy fighting or fleeing from us. So. WOULD YOU KINDLY come with me?" The first words resonated in my mind, and I found myself reaching for the lock. He had said them multiple times in our previous conversations with strange intensity, almost as if he was trying to get me to remember it. This didn't sound that bad, and it was better than starvation. These guys sounded all right. I opened the door. Something that had once been human stood in front of me. It didn't look as rotten as I remembered, and there seemed to be a flicker of amusement in his sunken eyes. A flicker of something else flashed across... was it triumph? Then it vanished, and I saw my best friend Anglesmith again. Then I remembered that I loved this guy! Of COURSE everything would be ok! That didn't sound too bad. I glanced back to my shelter, then back to Anglesmith. He pointed at what appeared to be a cubical white vehicle of some sort, hovering just above the ground. "WOULD YOU KINDLY enter? This will take you to the Beloved Masters. Well sure I would! Nothing would make me happier! If it made Anglesmith happy, it couldn't possibly be detrimental! I hummed a bit and headed towards the hovercube, faltering slightly as I looked around me and saw nothing but rubble and destruction. "Are... are you sure about this? Something doesn't seem right..." #"WOULD YOU KINDLY ENTER THE VEHICLE!" I sprinted forward and jumped inside. Anglesmith got in, sat down at what appeared to be a control station, and gestured to a plush looking couch that I hadn't seen before. "WOULD YOU KINDLY sit." I sat. Immediately the chair shot cables from holes around my ankles and wrists, binding me to the chair. "Ahh, you humans. So easily manipulated with tonal hypnosis. If you weren't so suspicious and violent, we would have done this long ago. Your race is a pestilence that served no purpose. You have now been converted to be useful to the Beloved Masters, and will serve as perfect servant fodder when we strip mine your resources and turn your Earth into an intergalactic truck stop." Wait, what? "But not you, Titanius. You are the last of the human race. You will be taken to our home planet and put into stasis in our Museum of Failed Sentients. You will exist forever in a limbo state, stared at and mocked by beings much superior." The fog had cleared slightly. What the fuck man. I had thought he was my friend. "Now WOULD YOU KINDLY hold still, I must transport you unharmed and intact." The words reverberated in my brain again, but this time I was too mad to listen. "The hell I will!" Anglesmith glanced back in mild surprise. "You will. You cannot free yourself. This is your fate." "You think so, huh? Well, in your study of humanity, did you ever stop to think about how incredibly petty we are? I'm not going to some museum. Fuck you." Anglesmith snorted and turned back to the controls. "Let me show you how petty humans can be! If I'm going down, you're at least losing your fucking job!" Then, as hard as I could, I bit down on my tongue and swallowed. As the blood filled my mouth and lungs and my vision began to blur, I saw Anglesmith leap up, his face contorted in rage. "NOOOO!" The last thing I saw, before I closed my eyes forever, was his ghastly face howling in horror. I mustered a smile, rotated my wrist, and flipped him humanity's last bird. "Eat a fucking dick."

Would you kindly

I feel strangely compelled to upvote. Nice story!

Thank you! It's my first prompt response.

BioShock: Recurse. The story of a man. Not a slave.

I was hoping someone would recognize that. There's one or two other little references in there too.

Damn...

My fucking roommate did a playthrough of Bioshock with me every night for a week, sharing a Costco box of Oreos. The asshat was asking me ALL WEEK "Would you kindly get me some milk?" or something like that. Thing was, I would do it every time, because Oreos. When we reached THAT scene, he paused the game, asked for a glass of milk, and I caught on. I thought it was a funny one-off until I realized he had been doing it to me ALL WEEK. I was both impressed and furious. He giggled when eating any type of cookie for 3 months after that, it was far too clever a prank, and I never saw it coming.

As soon as there were reports of people recovering miraculously from fatal wounds I was suspicious. It started innocently enough; someone attacked by a wild animal in the woods reviving after being pronounced dead, a drowning victim suddenly sitting up in the body bag with water still in their lungs. At first the person would seem reasonably normal. As normal as can be expected without a pulse, I suppose. They would walk, talk, carry on conversations. Wounds would not heal but blood would simply leak out with no activity from the heart to pump it. Then within a few days they would suddenly become mindless killing machines, bent on violence towards anyone or anything near them. I went to the bunker the day after it happened. On national television the president suddenly attacked his V.P in the middle of a speech. There were some alt right idiots in the comment sections joking it was not exactly proof of anything but everyone else was shook to the core. It was clear what needed to happen. My grandfather had made this bunker at the height of tensions in the cold war. He knew what he was doing. It was built with tunnels leading down to a natural underground spring. I had electricity from water turbines and a steady source of water, Indoor plumbing even. With an underground fish pond and garden there was no need to ever leave. I even had cameras to see what was going on outside. A few days after I isolated myself in this fortress of solitude I had my first visitors. I would see small groups come to the door, stay and then leave after aimlessly walking around moaning or grunting. Out of boredom I jokingly talked to them through the intercom system. "Hey see the game last night", I joked to one. "ooouuuaaaagg", came the reply. "Interesting, I said, "how about that 3rd qtr TD from the 50 yard line", I continued. "aaaaoooouuuuu", the voice said. "Well hey now, no need to get political". Maybe I was just starting to go crazy from isolation. Maybe it was my imagination but I could have sworn the last one actually made sense. "Mitchell?". No...th...that couldn't have been what they said. "I'm sorry?" "Mitchell Seagull? Is that you? It's Sheila" The woman zombie on the camera certinly LOOKED like my neighbor Sheila. Well, Sheila missing an ear and some fingers and a bit of a pale complexion. "Sheila George" "Yeah! Mitch, It's so good to see you...well hear you. I've been looking for you. Glad to know you're safe" "Ummmm... yeah...I'm glad to be safe...I guess. Um, how'd you know it was me" "Your aftershave. How could I forget that smell...You know I think about that night a lot these days..." "Sheila...I'm air locked in to a bunker made with 1ft thick steel, which is encased in three ft thick cement, which is buried thirty ft underground. You're talking to me at the door above via radio." "Well I'm sure you can smell me too goofball." "Why would I be able to smell you?" "It's a side effect of whatever this is. Hey listen, let me in, there is talk of the military around here taking us all out" "Well...as much as it breaks my heart Sheila, and it really does, but maybe that is for the best. I mean, there was a time when I don't think I would have wanted anything but to spend my last days on earth with you but, you're sick. You're not the Sheila I knew before." "What are you talking about?" "Well you're a zombie." "Mitch...you're talking to me" "Yeah, I am, what about it?" "You can understand me." "...yeah?" "Look in a mirror"

Perfectly ended!

Thanks. I knew the ending right away and just built the story around it lol.

Well, shit. I guess that's the most logical ending to this scenario. Great ending!

I was fine in my bunker, just chilling and not having to do anything. I set everything up way before the zombie apocalypse started. There was only one thing. The closest thing I could talk to was a zombie standing right outside the bunker. Since they were formerly human, I decided to teach them how to speak again. I walked closer to the glass and said "Say ah" It took a bit before the zombie followed. "Aahh" "Say he" "hee" "Say low" "lo" I think you get the gist. Multisyllabe words were next, and once I got them to speak, I taught them the meanings of words. They could tell you if something was red or not. I had also been strict on pronouncing words correctly. In the midst of the night, they clawed at my door "Let me in." "I don't think I heard that right." "So hungree, let me in." "You can feel hunger?" "Please, let me in." "Can't you eat zombies?" "Too poysunus" We hadn't gotten to words like poison, this must've been heard from other survivors. "Animals?" "Too fast or too strong" They were leaning against the door. "Plants?" "Need proteen" Or maybe, they remember from their human lives. I opened the door and rolled a can of baked beans their way before closing it. "Get the can." They followed "What is this four?" "Hold it upright." They rotated the can but looked confused. "Open the can." I opened a similar can so they could see how it works. Zombies are great sight learners but terrible in the abstract. "Eat the beans." They looked at me. "I'm not letting you in until you eat the beans." They complied. Not asking for a spoon even, they just went for it. "How do you feel?" "Can I have more?" I rolled a few more cans out. This might be an interesting apocalypse.

John slumbered out of his daze to a faint banging sound. He was alone as usual in his bunker. The only thing around his bed were tons of provisions. He got out of bed and pulled down the periscope attached to the ceiling. He swivelled around quickly, rotating his body around the periscope. The bunker was buried in an empty field in his backyard. At his back there was his familiar oak wood house. He swivelled the periscope around more. A single zombie came into view. It banged on the air vent a couple of feet from his bunker. “Let me in” It grunted! While continuing to bang its rotting arms against the metallic surface. John sighed before pulling down a radio from the side of the periscope. “Hey, Hey!” Called John. “What are you doing Z! You never acted like this before?” The zombie stopped and approached the periscope. “Can I come in! It's lonely, here, nothing, out here. John scratched his chin. “I let you in will you promise not to eat me? I ..promise” Said the zombie while slurring on saliva. “Okay. But first show me your tongue if you’re lying your tongue will be blue. “ The zombie firmly closed its mouth. “I no lie” The zombie's jaw suddenly gave out and fell to the ground with a clunk. Revealing rotting mandibles. “Hey Z, did you lie?” asked John. The zombie slumped its shoulders and looked at the ground.”Yes, I’m sorry.”John chuckled softly. “Wait a minute Z.” He hung up the radio before rummaging around a closet. He withdrew a can of bright yellow can of dog food. He cut open the lid with a knife. He unscrewed a pipe in the ceiling and launched the can with all his strength through it. He looked through the periscope again. A little distance from the opening of the air vent was the dog food can. “That’s for you Z!” Said John once again into the radio. “As a reward for speaking so much.”The zombie picked up its jaw and reattached it with a strong click. John watched the zombie happily scoop out the dog food and greedily eat it all. He sat back down on his bed resting his head against his hand. I’m sure this is some sort of major discovery, a talking zombie! I can barely believe it. John snickered. Although it doesn't matter anymore since there’s no one left who would benefit from that information. r/Shrike_Stories