• Melissa Fern Clark


    My name is Melissa, Melissa Fern Clark. I'm twenty years old, and have just jumped onto the moped my father gave me for my birthday.

    The ignition clicked, and the engine stalled. "Egh. See, this is what happens when you waste time introducing yourself in your head." Melissa mumbled, checking over the controls of the petty form of transportation. Why is the scruffy, blond haired woman speeding away from her college? She'd just witnessed her biology professor attempting to eat the skeleton at the front of the classroom. Obviously the others had freaked out and ran for the doors.

    But there was always that one kid that wanted to show off. They'd gone to the front of the class and tried talking to the teacher. Melissa had been watching all of this, as she was being dragged into the stampede of running, sweaty students. She hadn't made to run straight away, but was encouraged greatly to do so when the bald teacher took a bite out of the young boy's arm.

    Some students had scattered to their rooms, to get their belongings or call the police. Melissa had bolted towards her room, too. Only to grab the keys and her phone. Along with a lighter. On the way back, she bumped into more hungry humans. One took a bite out of her friend, another tried for her. But luckily, hurrying down the stairs as she was, she was about an inch out of it's grasp.

    But then, everything slowed down. The glass window that was to the side of the staircase took her attention. And as she ran, she watched. Outside, some bodies were running away, and others were laying on the floor. All over the car park and court yard, there was blood, or someone screaming. Melissa definitely knew something was up. No one couldn't know that by now.

    Her legs kept going, despite the pain that struck her. A quick glance told her she wasn't bitten, but in a lot of pain. She had never been a good runner. But hurrah! The doors were coming up on her, that meant her moped, and her moped meant a quick get away.

    And that's where she was now. On her moped, struggling with the engine until it purred into life. Something she was terrible greatful for. Especially considering there were a couple of young men slouching towards her. Something no woman would ever want to see.

    Little did she know, that bodies moving towards her would be the last of her problems. And with that image fresh in her mind, she kicked her red moped into life, speeding away from the clutching hands. Panic and andrenalin thunering in her veins.

    Meanwhile, elsewhere an older man was having much the same problem...