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The familiar stained ceiling of his abode stared down at him, as he lay in the hard mattress that belonged to him. The water stains originating from the floor above him darkened the entire ceiling lending an air of poverty to his apartment. The smell of asbestos infiltrated his sense of smell, and slowly permeated his meager possessions.

He lay there staring at the ceiling, until finally his alarm sounded. The low pitch buzz quickly turned into a high pitched squeal that managed to numb his senses. He continued to lay in the squalor until the occupant of the apartment next to his began to pound on the joint wall. No longer left with an excuse he pulled himself up from his rest, and switched off the alarm.

His next action was to switch on the TV, and let the news pour from the damaged speakers attached to the machine. The words weren't that encouraging, and made him doubt the value of humanity even more then usual.

"Today three people were found dead in the usually quiet town of-"

"Several senior citizens were beaten to death today provoking a severe reaction fro-"

"-Was found dead from a drug overdose-"

"-Have forced their children to run drugs for nearly a year now. And in other news we researched ways to keep cool during the summer."

The combination of blatant news of evil in the world sickened him almost as much as the fact that no one seemed to care. When he could no longer stand the stream of perversion, he stumbled into the shower, and hoped that the water heater was working for the day.
***

Soon after refreshed, and fully awake he stood fully dressed at the stained window. Precious few beams of illumination dared to penetrate the darkness. Below the flickering street lamps struggled to light the darkened street. His dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone pounding on his door.

He made his way through the apartment to the door, and opened it too the smiling face of one of his few friends. "Well are you gonna stand there all day or let me come in?" his friend asked, happy to see him.

"No I thought we'd just stand here for another hour or so. Of course I'll let you in Andy," he responded.

Sharing a quick laugh they both entered the ramshackle apartment. Immediately Andrew scouted the fridge, and with a grunt of disapproval said, "Still have nothing that kicks harder then a glass of orange juice, I see."

Jumping into one of the chairs in the living room he finally answered, "You know I let my friends buy that stuff for me. I mean why waste my money on a drink?"

"Well either way...hey you aren't planning on going anywhere today, right?"

"Of course not," He said darkly, "Its hard for a man with a dishonorable discharge to get a job."

"Well..." stammered Andrew, "I mean anything personel...like a date or something."

"No, why are you asking," he replied.

"'Cause its gonna be dangerous to go out today. The gangs are starting a war which will reach our neighborhood,"Andrew said.

Of course. Even though many cities had a plethora of gangs, the area surrounding them was heavily saturated with armed groups of vagabonds. Many were the times that they would wage war upon each other, often spanning the entire city. The innocent casualties were horrendous.

"So why are you here then?" he asked.

"Because your TV works, and it'll probably be safer here... with the ex-marine," Andrew answered.

He chuckled quietly, then froze as the sound of a .22 caliber pistol echoed. Soon he heard the answering calls of even more weapons, and the war began.

Update #2

The Bay Area

The gang members strolled around the perimeter of their territory. Some of the luckier one held rusty pistols and revolvers, but most still held nothing more then switchblade knives. It was one of the most heavily defended areas in the entire city, and it was soon to come under attack.

John was smoking a joint as he stood at the threshold of a nearby beach. He was about to go join the rest of his friends, when he saw something rising from the water. He stepped forward for a closer look, and out of the water came a slowly stumbling person. The persons skin had a grayish tinge, and there seemed to be several deep cuts on his face.

"Hey Homes you can't be here fool," he yelled at the person. If he hadn't had so many joints he probably would've realized that it would be impossible for someone to survive that, but his brain had rotted long ago.

In reply the figure let loose a horrible moan, and began to stumble toward him. "Hey Homes back off," he yelled.

Instead of complying it continued its slow advance. He calmly walked toward the figure and tried to push it back, but it grabbed his arm and sunk its teeth with impossible force into his arm. With a scream of pain he leaped back, and pulled out the rusty revolver he carried with him. He fired all six shots at the still approaching figure, but each one passed through the grey flesh. Blood didn't even erupt from the wounds, and he began to panic.

His screams lit the sky as he ran back to the safety of his fellow gang members.
***

Breaking news, a new virus was discovered today, and is called the Super Flu by some, and the African Rabies by many. It seems to have originated in one of the many third world countries, and may have begun to spread in China. We believe it to be spread through fluid contact, and if you think you are infected please report to one of the following locations-,"

After a short list the station began to report the theorized symptoms. "Hey you don't have that...right?" he asked Andrew.

"Doesn't matter...I didn't come here to initiate 'fluid contact.' I don't swing that way remember. Just ask your girlfriend," Andrew retorted.

Still it was news, and everything else on T.V. was crap. So they would probably talk about that for the next hour or so.

Update #3

"We have confirmed outbreaks from China, Africa, and several former Soviet states. Information is scarce, and so far we just don't know how to kill these things. Its only a matter of time until these things penetrate our borders," the intelligence agent finished.

It was a small meeting in a non-descript room. It could have been anywhere in the world, but two things made sure everyone knew that this was where everything happened. The badge on the officer had three blood red letters that prominently declared his agency. C.I.A. Below it, in a much smaller font it displayed the meaning of the acronym; Central Intelligence Agency.

It was easily one of the most recognizable government institutions ever created. Everyday the agency had to deal with many different reports, each stranger then the last, but this was just ridiculous. Walking dead? It sounded like something out of a bad science fiction novel.

"Do you seriously believe me stupid enough to believe this?" the director said.

"Sir we actually have a few reports of the undead being seen in some sea side cities. If we don't act now we might have them clawing at door without a proper tool to welcome them."

Instead of answering the director reached into his desk and began filling out several sheets of paper work. When he finished he looked directly at the agent and said, "Agent you are being reassigned to the embassy in Israel. Here are your papers."

With a quick salute, he left the room. Only five days later several countries went public. Israel had gone into an emergency state of quarantine. It had been building a large wall around much of its country; it was a testament to their intelligence agencies ability to conceal information. China finally came clean with what had happened, earlier they had been misdirecting everyone. Telling our intelligence services that they were just getting rid of political dissidents, and everyone believed them.

Many of the African countries were in such turmoil that no one knew what was happening. Almost all the troops that had seen the undead were killed by the growing hordes. The rest were thought crazy, victims of several different psychological problems. Russia proved that there intelligence services were still the best however. They had a small horde in their eastern border, and only the KGB knew about it.

America was unique as always. Already the infection was festering in several slums near the coasts, and several news channels were running stories about it. Unfortunately these were mostly alternative news channels, and almost no one watched these stories. Those who did were often ignored.

The director immediately briefed the President and Joint Chiefs using the files brought to him fives days earlier. He even tried to bring back the agent who had given it, but he couldn't leave the nation of Israel. The congress decided on what they thought to be an appropriate response.

Several elite teams were dropped into the known infected areas, and a tape was sent to law enforcement agencies teaching them how to take down a ghoul. It was something that they had learned only recently, and it would prove to be a life saving piece of information. Then they stopped, they thought there job was done, and unfortunately that stopped them from saving their country from a catastrophe.

Update #4

Yet still, the public never knew about the approaching catastrophe. They lived their lives as they always had, traveling from point a to point b, only to do the same mindless task they had been doing for decades or more. In many ways the living dead were more alive then them.

The Bay Area

One of their rival gangs, The Falcons, or as he liked to call them the ****tards, had locked themselves inside their harbor fortress. This would usually be a welcome turn of events, but they had done so without any kind of attack made against them. So the leadership of his gang tore themselves away from their carnal pleasures long enough to send a strike team blow the Falcons away.

Who were they kidding? The gang had nothing even remotely resembling a strike team, and had very few who could hit a target without a machine gun. But their leaderships word was law, and as such the few people that could aim (such as himself) and many who couldn't were sent in to kill the enemy or die trying....most likely to retreat before they died trying.

He knew exactly what was going to happen, and yet he was still nervous. Something was telling him that being here was not such a good idea, and that he would probably die. He didn't know what it was, some left over self preservation instinct? or maybe even something that ran deeper?

Who cares he wasn't a philosopher, he was a gangster.

Before the order to move in came, he saw many people get one last dose of their drug of choice, and even saw several people die of overdose right there. It was a death that he was use to, the body would immediately start to shake, then the person would start jerking around in some random pattern. He knew there was a medical term for it, but he never got enough of an education to care. Finally the victim would foam slightly at the mouth, and die.

It wasn't a pretty way to go, and he wanted to make sure he never died like that. Actually he wanted to make sure he never died.

They started to move in, walking out in the open armed with pistols and shotguns, toward their sworn enemies base. They met no resistance, and so they continued toward the building set in the middle of the enemy territory. Still no one challenged them, they didn't even see anyone until they came to the nearest entrance to the building.

A single person sat against a door, holding what looked like a bite in his arm. Someone or something was smashing against the door, and every time it bounced the man seemed to shudder in horror. A shotgun lay by the man's side, and he continually muttered something.

Several of his fellow gang members began to pull the door open, while he knelt by the man to hear what he was saying. "They...they died, but...the horror! I cant let them touch me...I cant let them free," the man kept whispering to himself. The man finally closed his eyes, and died.

He backed away, something bad was happening here, and it was all trapped behind this door. He turned to look at the man, and saw the man start to jerk rhythmically. Then stand up with arms stretched out toward him. The door burst open, and more people began to shuffle out. A horrible moan rose escaped the man's lips, and soon many more voices lifted up to join it.

Update #5

He lifted his pistol, and aimed directly at the nearest man. Unlike many gangsters he didn't use the sideways grip that they thought looked cool. He fired a shot that passed through the chest of his target. Without even flinching, the man continued to walk toward him. He fired his pistol again, hoping he had missed, but he saw the man flesh fly out, and strange brownish specks fall to the ground.

He emptied his pistol into the man, and saw more of his flesh explode outward. He saw the man fall over, and nearly cheered. Then the man pushed himself to his feet with stiffened limbs, and began to advance once more.

The man was supposed to be dead. I saw him die, I saw him fall over. No one is supposed to survive that many bullets. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!

He took several steps back, away from the man, before regaining enough sense to reload his pistol. He saw another gangster firing at the crowd with a sideways grip, and even though he was only using a .22 revolver, his bone snapped under the pressure. The gangster fell to the ground with a shout of pain, clutching his arm. Two of the...creatures fell onto him, biting into his flesh. Another came forward to beat the creatures of his friend, using a metal pipe as a baseball bat.

The creature barely stumbled with the blow, and immediately grabbed the mans arm and bit deep into the flesh. Hundreds seemed to appear from no where, each lifting a horrible moan into the air. Gunfire and screams of pain soon joined them. People around him fired wildly into the hordes of enemies surrounding them.

He saw what looked like a dozen enemies coming directly at him, and lifted his pistol. Fire flashed from the end creating explosions of flesh and those strange brown specks to leap from his targets. He saw the jaw of one of the creatures explode outward, all without the creature flinching. He quickly reloaded, and began firing once more into the small crowd advancing on him.

One fell when its forehead exploded outward, but he didn't notice. He was already running with the two or three others that had survived this long. He could almost see into their minds as they ran. **** the gang, **** it all. I just want to get out of here.

***

Well thats odd...

The gang war was supposed to be in full swing, but except for a few scattered incidents nothing was happening. The police department stepped in to take full credit, and to ask for more funding. Everyone knew that they were lying, but they needed the money.

Then next on the news a government official stepped in to say with an important announcement. He merely told everyone that the president would be speaking in around two hours, and that all T.V. stations were required to play the message.

That sounded like fun...

He exchanged looks with his friend, something important was about to happen. Something odd was happening, and maybe the president would speak about it. He knew something was wrong, because he could sense something in the air. A smell that was barely at the edge of his memory. What was it?

For a fraction of a second he nearly admitted to himself, the identity of the smell. It smelled like death, but it couldn't be that...could it?

Update #6

Two hours later they were still sitting in front of the television set. The last of the preliminary speakers finished her speech, and stepped off the platform. Subdued applause floated below the the announcement of the next speaker. The President of the United States.

A man walked calmly up to the podium in an immaculate blue suit. Flashes of light as dozens of cameras tried to capture what was sure to be a historic moment. A multitude of voices rang out at once, each vied with the others for the presidents attention.

The president didn't even need to signal for silence, instead everyone instinctively knew that they should be silent. The cameras all fell silent, and the flashes of light all stopped. The only sound that could be heard was the subtle buzz of strategically placed microphones.

After the silence had been drawn on for what seemed like an eternity the President finally spoke, "My fellow Americans. Throughout the last century many things that had once seemed like fantasy have become real, created through human ingenuity. We have risen to each challenge, climbed each mountain of fantasy and created a reality."

He thought he heard gunfire, just at the edge of his hearing, but he didn't see anyone on the T.V. panicking. The secret service seemed more nervous then usual, but if they had heard gunfire, they would be doing alot more then just standing there.

"As we reached the peak of each mountain we found only another waiting to be conquered, and in time we only began looking for more and more mountains. In the process we have forgotten to be wary of the valleys that often stand besides these points."

Instead of diminishing, more guns seemed to join the ones in the background. The reports only got louder, their message more urgent. Why wasn't anyone panicking? They couldn't be that confident in White House Security.

"Its hard to understand or even believe what has happened, but we can no longer refuse to believe things which were once fantasy. It was once only fantasy that had the dead come back to life, but sadly this is no longer true. Many of you may be thinking, 'Why is this so bad? Isn't it just another testament to human ingenuity.' This reality wasn't created by man, but instead was forced upon us, seemingly by God."

The gunfire reached a fever pitch, and with the Presidents words fresh in his mind, he walked over to the window, and looked down into the streets. A mass of bodies lurched through the streets, crashing into buildings, and tearing through the few who tried to oppose them.

He heard his friend walk over and look over his shoulder. "May God help us."