"Good morning, lonely world," Jack muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
He dragged himself out of bed, shuffled into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, then stepped outside. His Coolster minibike sat waiting, registration sticker still fresh.
" I Can't believe I just got this registered yesterday," he murmured, kicking the engine to life.
WcDoodles, the fabulous food joint home to the Wacky Burger, flickered into view. He pulled into the parking lot, barely awake.
"Finally clocking in," Jack mumbled, swiping his badge.
The shift started like any other—grease popped in the fryer, customers shuffled in, idle chatter hummed through the diner. But something felt off.
People moved strangely. Small glimpses—jerky steps, vacant stares. Unsettling, sure, but not far from the usual weirdness of the city.
Then the TV in the lobby flickered, the volume spiking abruptly.
"Breaking news—"
The anchor's voice wavered, urgency crackling through the speakers.
"People are rising from beyond the grave. But that's not all—there are reports of four-legged monsters and flying beasts appearing across the city."
The diner fell silent. Jack's jaw dropped. The sizzling from the fryer, the clink of plates—all of it faded beneath the weight of those words on the screen.
The man across the counter—mid-bite of his Wacky pepperoni pizza—froze. "Is this real?" he whispered, sauce smudged on his lip.
Jack didn't answer. Couldn't. His eyes stayed glued to the TV, where grainy footage now played: a woman staggering down Main Street, face slack, eyes glowing faintly. Behind her, something crawled on all fours—long-limbed and too fast.
Another customer stood, knocking over a chair. "I—I just came in for coffee," she stammered.
Jack's fingers twitched toward his badge again, like he could undo the day with a second swipe.
Then the power blinked. Once. Twice. Out.
A silence descended that was too quiet.
Jack turned slowly toward the front windows—and saw the first figure crossing the street.