It's Over is a short series written by the user, Ckarimalis. It is told in first person point of view from a young gothic named Madeline Ellis. This series features a few characters who survived the zombie apocalypse and fought to stay alive. The Setting for this series is New Jersey, USA.


  • Jeremy Whittaker
  • Cecilia Ellis
  • Dirk Ellis

Chapters ListEdit

  1. ===WHERE ARE YOU?
I didn't sleep well for the first few nights. I couldn't. I don't think anyone did sleep well the first few nights. It had to have been... 3 days since the Apocalypse. I can't tell you how many days it had actually been, time was the least of my concerns.
I was at Jeremy's house. Alone. And it had been 3 days, and I was very scared. I remember telling my parents on the first day that I wouldn't return to them until Jeremy came back to me. But after 3 days, I knew he wasn't coming back. Don't get me wrong, I was still hopeful that I would see him again, but somewhere in my heart, after waiting for 3 days, I knew, just sadly knew, he wasnt going to return to me.
Jeremy was my boyfriend. We had been dating for a solid 9 months. We met at a pro-abortion rally. It seems stupid now, how some people could just mix the lines of fate and science. If there's a hell, it couldn't be nearly as bad as what I'm living through now. Anyway, we met and fell for each other instantly. He had such an enchanting style. He was suave, but dark and daring. He was 24, 3 years older than I, and he was a dealer at a Casino in Atlantic City. He made good cash, but he hated his job. But his hate for his job couldn't match my parents' hate for him.
My parents, Cecilia and Dirk were snooty tulips. My father Dirk, was a dentist. He had a fancy name for his profession, but to me he was always known as 'A dentist'. And my mother wasn't anything more than his trophy wife. Sadly, my fathers perfect teeth only shined on me. My parents hated each other. They wore fake smiles for each other, I knew no love could've ever existed between those two. But they never divorced! They vowed to be together until death. Which as far as I knew in this new world, wasn't long. I pity them, how they had to be together until the end even though they didn't love each other. All of my parent's love was given to me! They had so much passion in me. I hated them. Their principals were wrong! Their morals, wrong! Sometimes I wonder how someone like me, born into a strong religious family, could be so punic. I did everyhting I could to embarress them. In school, I got aweful grades, even though I am quite smart. I didn't play sports or join clubs! Instead, I rallied! For abortion, and civil rights! And for college, I made them pay to send me to an art school, where I eventually flunked out of! Then I met Jeremy. I brought him home and they sent him back out to the streets, and I left with him.
We had enough money to buy a small apartment together. Jeremy thought it was small, but I thougt it was cozy. The apartment had only 2 bedrooms and 1 bath. Its walls were originally white, but the complex's rules weren't stict. I painted the walls with so much color! We lived there for a short, long time. It was long while it lasted, but seems like a very short time now.
I was home on the day of the "Apocalypse". My parents called for me to come home, I cursed at them. Outside was chaos. People on the streets were running amuck. I saw afew sick folk too. I locked my doors, and closed my windows. Luckily our apartment was on the second floor of the complex and no one could bust down our room door or climb through our windows with ease. Unfortunatly for everyone on the first floor, people broke into their rooms... These people stole, injured and killed. I heard screams through the night. I also heard some ghastly, animal-like sounds. These foreign sounds would grow more familiar as time went on.
On the second day, there was more chaos. Fires stretched acoss the city skyline. There were gunshots every 10 minutes, and screams every 2. I called for Jeremy, my boyfriend, so many times that I lost count. Jeremy didnt answer any calls. Most of my friends didn't answer either. Finally, I called the Casino he worked at. No one answered. I considered calling my parents, but decided to wait another day.
I very clearly remember the second day, I tried to watch the news. On screen, a well-built and handsome reporter named Phillip Morrigan was covering for the usual anchor who was "sick". Phillip said that people needed to remain calm. He said that the government had advised to stay indoors for the next few days. Additionally, he said that you shouldn't be letting anyone inside your house, even if you knew them. The report continued. This news channel from Philadelphia was admitting that over the last week, a very severe disease was rapidly spreading -- across the world. Symptoms of this deases were listed from least dangerous to more. They included: naseua, fever, fatigue, vomitting, fainting, uncontrollable bleeding, minor organ failure, major organ failure and even death. Phillip said the disease was extremly contagious and the CDC was working on finding a cure. He said no shots were being administered to keep this disease under conrtol. The reporter concluded by saying that until a vaccine were discovered or administered, people should remain indoors, and away from contact with others.
I stayed awake the whole night again crying.
On the third day, there was less commotion. In fact, hardly anyone was on the streets. There were afew dead folk walking around the street, but hardly any living people. I watched the dead dance along the streets in a drunken manner and waited for the phone. I went over to the television and tried to turn it on. There was white fuzz on every channel.
Later I finally tried to phone my parents. I got the answering machine, and I left a message. I called again and again for Jeremy. I tried his cellphone, and his office number. I grew impatient and called home again. I left another polite message. An hour later I left 2 messages at home in tears. And another hour later, when I
got my parent's answering machine again I screamed "WHERE ARE YOU?" 50 times.
I cried again on the third night, but I made a plan. I set an ultimatum, If Jeremy wasnt home by noon and no one answered their phone, I'd leave. I wasn't going to starve waiting for a response.

2. Time to go Edit

I tried friends, family, and Jeremy. I got no responses. Noon was approaching. I knew what had to be done. I went to my room and got out a bag, I knew I might be gone for a while. First, I threw lots of clothes into my bag. Some of my expensive jewlery and accesories went next. I also packed acouple books and some pictures of Jeremy and my family. I threw in some shoes and then procceeded to the kitchen. I packed as many non perishable foods as I could. Somewhere during the night the power in the apartment went totally out, so most of the foods in the fridge had ruined. After packing foods I looked around for anything else I could take.
My cousin Danielle had a passion for japanese culture. On my 19th birthday she was home from her studying in Japan. As a gift she got me a collection of sushi knives. In fact, she got me a kit with 12 different knives, varying in shape and size. And after seeing what was going on on TV afew days before, I figured I might as well take the knives with me. I dumped the knives from the kit into my bag, but kept the large cleaver. A question crossed my mind wondering if Danielle was alive and well over in Japan. Japan is a small island, maybe it was safe from the current danger that the rest of the world was facing. My mind kept thinking logically though, and I remembered that I would have to stay alive and I forgot about her.
I took another sweep through the hose and grapped my make-up bag, toilet paper, a toothbrush and toothepaste, a hairbrush, medical kit and a bar of soap from the bathroom. I also grabbed my black eyeliner pencil. I sat down on the couch and began to write on the wall with it.
Dear Jeremy, Mom, Dad, Danielle, Uncle Brooks, Aunt Brooks, or anyone else who finds this:
It's been four days since the outbreak. From my window I've seen a huge tragedy. It might not be safe to leave home, but I can't reach any of you and I've been trying for days. I fear the worst, but anything is possible. I can't stay here and wait for rescue, I don't have much food left. I plan on walking to the local rescue center and safety shelter. It's only a few miles East of here. They might have supplies or people administering vaccines or something. I have no power, and my cellphone battery was wasted trying to reach you guys. Oh and I said 'walking' because my truck was hotwired and stolen 2 nights ago. I'm writing this note because I doubt I'll be returning, I cannot wait here for death to come get me, I have to find a safer heaven. So, if any of you read this, I love you and I hope I get to see you again, but in light of the current situation I think the chances are slim -Maddy
My suitcase was heavy with supplies. I walked to the door and looked around my room again, but I knew I had waited long enough for rescue. It was time to go. I opened the door and stepped out into a short hallway. I left the door unlocked and descened down the stairway. At the bottom of the steps was a door to the street. My heart was pounding in fear of the unknown. I could tell that someone had beaten on the door and had tried to get in. I didn't let fear scare me. I unlocked the heavy door and pushed it open and was overcome by the rusty smell of blood.

3. A short journeyEdit

The sun was so bright outside. I had to squint my eyes. I took in a few breaths of what hsould have been fresh air. But instead of breathing fresh air I got a mouthful of the rusty taste of blood.
The street was streaked with glass, hair, clothes, trash, car parts, and dried blood. I took afew seconds to overcome the nasuea that the dead air was giving me, then I remembered my plan.
The local rescue center was about 6 miles East of my apartment. I wasnt excited about walking there and carrying my heavy luggage but I had no other option, my truck had been stolen afew days ago.
I had only been walking for about 5 minutes when I stumbled by a dead body. The buzz of flies drew my attention to it. It scared me. It must've been an older woman. Maybe late 50's or early 60's. She was wearing pajama's, which confused me. I was also confused that she was just left here in the street.
She also looked very well. Almost as if she had just dropped dead. She wasn't even bloody and it didn't look like she had any zombie bites. Then I saw her left and move. Her mouth opened slowly and let out a dry, crackling moan. Her eyes opened then and I started to sprint down the street. I was afraid.
After running for afew minutes I came across a walking corpse. That scared me more than the immobile grandma one. This one stretched out its arms and started walking towards me. I drew my cleaver from my bag. The dead man approached me quicker, and when it was close enough, I thrust my knife into its head.
It shook its arms for afew seconds then fell backward to the ground. I ripped my clever from its head, the zombie lay still.
Along my journey to the shelter I killed 3 more zombies. And outran 2 others. The sun was setting as I neared the shelter. When I turned the corner to the street where the shelter was, I could see a zombie from a distance. I crept slowly so not to attract it. And as I got closer, I saw that this zombie looked well from behind. It looked almost like the woman in the street that I had seen earlier. I drew my clever again, now black from blood and figured, maybe I could slice off its head before it even knew I was behind it.
My heart was beating again, as it did with every zombie I had killed that day. I took a big step to advance closer from behind. And my heart stopped when *Crunch* I had stepped on a piece of glass.
The zombie quickly turned around. Except this zombie was holding a shotgun. My brain was running a mile a minute. I was so confused. I started swinging my knife at it. The zombie drew back its arms and gave a huge thrust with its gun, and knocked me over.
And as I slowly looked up and prepared to be bit by this monster, the large, brown butt of the shotgun hit me in the back of the head and I collapsed.

4. A new faceEdit


  • It's Over is written by Ckarimalis.