The DEAD Don’t Decompose

The television screen flickered with static, the harsh white noise a jarring contrast to the oppressive silence that had fallen over the faculty room. The only other sound was the ragged breathing of the shell-shocked survivors, each of us trying to process the enormity of what we had just witnessed.

The coppery scent of drying blood still hung thick in the air, a nauseating reminder of the horrors we had barely escaped. It seemed to cling to everything - our skin, our clothes, the very walls of the room.

I glanced around at the others, taking in their expressions of shock, anger, and despair. Rei still looked dazed, her eyes wide and glassy as she clung to Takashi's arm like a lifeline.

"This... this happened all over the world?" she muttered, her voice trembling. "In just a few hours?"

She turned to Takashi, her grip on his arm tightening. "But they'll stop it, right? The government, the military... they're on it. Everything will be okay, won't it?"

The pleading in her voice, the desperate need for reassurance, made something twist painfully in my chest. But before Takashi could respond, Saya's voice cut through the room like a knife.

"That's not happening," she said flatly, her tone devoid of any softness or comfort. "This is a pandemic. An infectious disease spreading across the entire world simultaneously. There's nothing anyone can do to stop it."

Takashi glared at her. "Why do you have to be so blunt about it?" he snapped. "Can't you see she's scared?"

Saya met his gaze unflinchingly, her own eyes hard and cold. "And you think sugarcoating the truth will help? Wake up, Komuro. This isn't some little outbreak that'll blow over in a few days."

She began to pace, her footsteps echoing loudly in the stillness. "In 1918, the Spanish Flu infected over 600 million people worldwide. 50 million died. And that was just a regular flu pandemic."

The numbers hit like a punch to the gut, driving home the scale of the catastrophe we were facing. But even as the others reeled from the revelation, a grim certainty was settling over me.

"We can't compare this to anything we've seen before," I said quietly, drawing their attention. "In any other epidemic, the dead stay dead. But this..."

I sighed. "The infected die, but they don't stay down. They rise up again, driven by some mindless impulse to spread the disease further. To kill and consume and infect."

Saeko's eyes met mine, a flicker of understanding passing between us. "Are you saying there's no natural reason for this outbreak to stop?" she asked softly. "That it could just keep spreading, unchecked?"

I started to respond, but Shizuka's voice piped up, high and anxious. "Wait! The weather's going to be getting hot soon, right? If their flesh decomposes in the heat, if they become just skeletons... they might not be able to move around anymore!"

Kohta turned to her, a wild hope kindling in his eyes. "How long would that take?" he asked eagerly.

Shizuka frowned thoughtfully. "Well, in the summer, some parts of the body can decompose in just 20 or 30 days. Winter would be slower, of course. But maybe if we can just hold out a few months, this whole thing will blow over on its own!"

For a moment, a flicker of relief passed through the room. The idea that there might be some end in sight, some natural limit to the horror, was a tempting one to cling to.

But Saya's sharp voice cut through the moment like a blade. "We can't apply normal medical knowledge to walking corpses," she said grimly. "For all we know, they might never decompose. They might just keep going, keep killing, forever."

The word seemed to hang in the air, heavy with dread and despair. Forever. An eternity of fighting, of running, of watching the world we knew crumble to dust around us.

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders. "First things first. We need to get out of here, find somewhere safer to regroup and plan our next move."

I turned to Shizuka. "You mentioned car keys earlier. Where are they?"

She blinked, seeming to snap out of her daze. "Oh! Um, let me see..."

She rummaged through her purse, the contents spilling out onto the desk in a colorful clutter of makeup and snacks and random knick-knacks. After a moment, she held up a set of keys triumphantly.

"Got them!" she chirped. But then her face fell. "Oh, wait... my car's only a two-seater. It won't fit all of us."

Saeko frowned. "Is there another vehicle we could use? Something bigger?"

Rei's eyes widened. "What about one of the school buses? The keys should be right there in the office, shouldn't they?"

Shizuka nodded slowly. "Yeah, that could work. But... where would we go? The city's in chaos, and it's only going to get worse."

Takashi straightened up. "We go to check on our families," he said firmly. "We start with whoever lives closest to the school and work our way out from there. Make sure they're safe."

It was a noble idea, the kind of thing you'd expect from a novice leader in a crisis. But the cold, hard truth was that the odds of any of our families being alive at this point were slim to none. The world had gone to hell in the span of a few short hours - by now, the infection had almost certainly spread far beyond the confines of the school.

But I knew there was no convincing them of that, not yet. They needed hope, something to cling to in the face of this nightmare. And if the thought of saving their loved ones was what kept them going... then who was I to take that away?

Still, we needed a plan for the immediate future. Supplies, weapons, a clear route out of the school. And I had a feeling that the longer we waited, the harder it would be to get any of those things.

"Before we head out," I said slowly, "I think we should make a stop at the cafeteria. Grab some food, some water. Anything we can easily carry that might come in handy down the line."

I glanced around the room. "Anyone see a duffel bag or backpack lying around? Something we can use to carry the supplies?"

Saya started to protest, but then her eyes fell on a sports bag shoved under one of the desks. She pulled it out and upended it unceremoniously, sending a shower of papers and folders cascading to the floor.

"This should work," she said, tossing the empty bag to me.

I caught it with a nod of thanks, then turned to the others. "I'll make the supply run. Saeko, you're with me. The rest of you, stay here and barricade the door. See if you can find a map of the area, start marking down the places we need to hit first once we have the bus."

Takashi started to stand. "I'll come with you," he said, his hand straying to the baseball bat propped against the wall.

But I shook my head. "No, you stay here. If something happens, they'll need someone who can fight to protect them."

For a moment, he looked like he might argue. But then he met my gaze, something unspoken passing between us. A recognition of the burden of leadership, the weight of responsibility for the lives in our hands.

He gave a short, sharp nod and settled back into his seat, his jaw tight with tension.

I turned to Saeko, my heart already starting to race with a mix of fear and adrenaline. "Ready?" I asked quietly.

She met my eyes, her own gaze steady and unflinching. In that moment, I felt a flicker of something pass between us - an understanding, a connection forged in blood and horror and the raw, primal need to survive.

"Ready," she said simply, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword.

And together, we stepped out into the hallway, into the nightmare that awaited us beyond the fragile sanctuary of that room. Into the hell that our world had become.

As Saeko and I crept through the blood-spattered hallways, the eerie silence broken only by the distant groans of the undead, a thought occurred to me.

"Hey," I whispered, glancing over at her. "This might be our best chance to learn more about these things. How they work, what they respond to."

Saeko's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You're right," she murmured. "Knowing their capabilities, their weaknesses... it could make all the difference in the long run."

We rounded a corner, and the cafeteria came into view at the end of the hall. But between us and our goal, a handful of infected milled about aimlessly, their movements jerky and uncoordinated.

I held up a hand, signaling Saeko to stop. "Okay," I breathed. "Let's start with the basics. Sight, sound, smell. We need to know what triggers their hunting instinct."

Saeko nodded, her gaze fixed on the closest zombie. It was a woman, or had been once, her blouse torn and stained with dark, dried blood. She swayed on her feet, her head lolling at an unnatural angle.

"I'll go first," I said. "See how she reacts."

Slowly, carefully, I edged forward, my steps deliberate and silent. The zombie showed no reaction, no sign that she'd registered my presence.

Emboldened, I moved closer, until I was within arm's reach. Still, the creature remained oblivious, her milky eyes staring sightlessly ahead.

I glanced back at Saeko, a triumphant grin tugging at my lips. "Looks like sight's not a factor," I called softly. "She hasn't even - "

But my words cut off in a strangled yelp as the zombie's head suddenly snapped towards me, her jaws opening in a hungry snarl. I stumbled back, my heart slamming against my ribs as she lunged for me, her grasping hands missing my face by inches.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Saeko tense, ready to spring into action. But I waved her off, scrambling back to a safe distance.

"Okay," I panted, my pulse still racing. "Scratch that. They might be drawn by sound."

Saeko's brow furrowed. "Or smell," she suggested. "The virus could have heightened their olfactory senses, allowing them to track potential prey."

I considered that, my mind racing. Then, a reckless idea sparked to life.

"Only one way to find out," I said, a manic grin spreading across my face.

Before Saeko could stop me, I darted forward, snatching a chunk of debris from the ground. Then, with all my strength, I hurled it down the hall, sending it clattering and skittering across the tiles.

Instantly, every zombie in the vicinity swiveled towards the sound, their blank faces coming alive with a kind of feral intensity. As one, they began to shuffle towards the source of the noise, their movements clumsy but relentless.

I turned to Saeko, a fierce light in my eyes. "Sound," I said, my voice tight with excitement. "They track their prey by sound."

She shook her head, a rueful smile playing at her lips. "That was incredibly stupid," she said. "And incredibly brave."

I shrugged, feeling a flush of pride at her words. "Hey, no risk, no reward, right?"

But even as I spoke, a flicker of movement caught my eye. The zombie I'd first approached, the one who'd nearly taken a chunk out of my face... she wasn't moving towards the sound like the others.

Instead, she was shambling straight for us, her nostrils flaring, her clouded eyes fixed on our location with an eerie intensity.

"Uh, Saeko?" I said, my voice rising in alarm. "I think we might have a problem."

Saeko followed my gaze, her eyes widening as she saw the approaching threat. "Smell," she breathed. "She's tracking us by scent."

I cursed under my breath, my mind racing. If these things could hunt by both sound and smell... nowhere was safe. There was no hiding, no evading them once they caught your trail.

But even as the reality of our situation sank in, a grim resolve hardened in my gut. We couldn't change the rules of this new world... but we could learn to navigate them. To use them to our advantage.

I met Saeko's gaze, a silent understanding passing between us. We knew what we had to do.

Together, we readied our weapons, falling into step beside each other as we advanced on the approaching horde. The first rule of survival, the most important lesson this nightmare had taught us, rang in my head like a mantra.

Never hesitate. Never falter. And never, ever let them catch your scent.