Here is my first fiction I've made, please be gentle fufu~

~~~~Classroom in college~~~~~

“….and the celestial sphere is used by astronomers to help gauge distances from one star to another, and there are also different uses such as…”

Ugh so boring, why did I sign up for this class? Oh, I remember! The teacher is a raven haired woman I have only ever fantasized about that would make all of my previous wet dreams look like grandmothers giving oral sex without their false teeth on compared to her sexy figure moving around that teacher’s podium.

Yeah I might sound weird, but if you saw this lady I would give you my entire life savings - which amounts to 3 boxes of condoms -i f you can look at her bend over to pick up the pen without getting hard. Ah, what am I saying, the pervert has unleashed itself from within me and I’m having trouble reigning him in!

Well that’s only one thing among my many tendencies that has made me a loner since I can remember. There’s time to talk about that later though. Ohhhh my reliable wingman Mr. Air Conditioner has made his move! She is starting to get hot and the coat that stands in the way between my hungry eyes and her bountiful bosom is removing itself!

To tell you the truth the only thing I learned in astronomy from her is when she mentions the words ‘Big Bang’ if you know what I mean. Anyways, class is over and I’m getting up and smirking at the guys who are leaning forwards trying to hide their traitorous snakes that want to roam the ‘fields’ of our professor, Dr. Akane. That’s not her last name so I used the first name. Furthermore she is my neighbor and our neighborhood is actually about 2km away from the university. Sometimes I stalk *ahem* make sure she doesn’t get mugged on her way back to her house.

After leaving class I decide to go home first since the rest of my classes are too boring. Now it’s time for some info about myself!

I am 22 years old and I live in Japan, going to a university right now since my father insisted to. When I was around 10 yrs old I was deemed ‘mentally unstable’. Ah, it was good times that’s for sure…

I was with my dad at an amusement park, eating the best damn chocolate ice cream a kid could possibly have. My oral orgasm only lasted for a mere moment before some jackass bumped into me, ruining the hallmark moment that was going on. What is worse is he was completely oblivious to the desecration of my sacred holy artifact, and the vessel it sat upon! The cone dammit!

Unable to stand by and watch this blasphemy, I picked up a metal trash can with my herculean strength and slayed my opponent! Actually, I knocked over the metal trash can and rolled it right into the bastard’s legs. While he was dazed and confused I proceeded to kick his face like it was a vintage car that broke down in the middle of an intersection. Even with his constant begging I didn’t let up and the security staff had to separate us before ugly face becomes even more hideous.

Thankfully he didn’t press charges. That might have to do with the hush money my dad payed him. As for my family background: My dad is a big corporate CEO for some serious international trade company. Some of the things they do is shadier than an elephant’s crotch. Fortunately for me, my dad and his all-omnipotent and underhanded methods gave him the chance to make our basement a ‘weapons wonderland’ even in a strict anti-gun Japan.

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Guns of all different nationalities, knives and swords that would make a serial killer die from over-exertion climaxing in his nether regions, and a lot of miscellaneous items too. Hitler would be proud. You may ask dear reader, why am I mentioning such things to you? Well, don’t, and shut the fuck up because I’m getting to it dammit.

~~~~At home~~~~

Uwahhh I’m so bored, I wish I could just go over to Dr. Akane’s house and show her my own big bang theory with her, right on the floor of her kitchen.

Now this is where life goes to hell in a poorly-made handbasket.

*Bam!* *Bam!* *Bam!*

Someone is falcon-punching my fucking front door instead of knocking like any other person would do. Getting up, I look on the wall next to the front door where there is a tv display of my front porch. It’s a security system measure for my house. And I’m also paranoid in case the cops come I might get a head start on escape huhuhu.

Anyways what I see is some guy with blood all over his chest like a fucking serial killer and he is trying to break in. Like hell I’m opening the door and saying “Hey there neighbor, did you break your ketchup bottle on accident?” If horror movies taught me one thing, it’s that the ones who die are the ones who open the door. Or the stupid blonde actresses who are only hired to be there for the sex-scenes that get disturbed by the serial-killer character.

Fortunately I don’t fall under either categories, so without further ado, I run back to my basement armory and grab my favorite gun ‘The Judge’. A revolver that shoots .410 shotgun shells! If this psycho wants to fight me, then he should be prepared to face an equally talented psycho. Time to shoot first and fuck the questions later.

After loading up The Judge, I make my way back to the noisy asshole still pummeling my door. After a moment of pause and a predatory glint in my eyes, I swing the door open to get a good look at the idiot. My sanity eludes me – not like it was there in the first place – when I see his face up close and uncomfortably personal.

His eyes are glazed over white and his grin becomes a full-on hungry smile, complete with bad breath and bloody teeth. He takes the pause as an opportunity and tries to tackle me while chomping his jaws like a damn prehistoric carnivore. Lucky for me though, my trusty revolver barrel connects with his chest, and I pull the trigger shooting a hole through his heart.

*BLAM!*

*growl*

Holy shit! He is still coming after me! This time I back up a few steps and unload another round into his head, splattering brain matter all over the floor with a red cloud of blood exiting from his skull. Finally he slumps over, twitches a bit then dies. Just to make sure I empty the rest of the rounds into his chest cavity until I’m thoroughly satisfied.

Now that he is meat paste, I take a seat next to him and start to connect the dots. Savage behavior and the need to eat human flesh, check. Headshot is insta-kill, check. Glazed over eyes and loss of self-awareness, check. Yep I just killed a genuine, true-blue zombie. Damn that’s cool. But who the hell is going to clean this mess up?