Mallory Greene was the kind of person who believed in living life the easy way. A self-proclaid "couch potato extraordinaire," she had mastered the art of doing absolutely nothing while sohow keeping herself alive and reasonably well-fed. Her apartnt was her sanctuary, a cozy one-bedroom retreat filled with mismatched furniture, a perpetually ssy coffee table, and an alarming number of snack wrappers tucked behind the cushions of her oversized couch.
The morning the apocalypse began, Mallory had no idea anything unusual was happening. She was exactly where she wanted to be—buried under a mountain of blankets on her couch, binge-watching a drama series while cradling a half-empty bag of cheesy puffs. The chaos outside might as well have been on another planet.
She barely noticed the faint screaming in the distance, the sound blending seamlessly with the background noise of her show. A few thuds against her apartnt door caught her attention, but she shrugged it off as her neighbor Jerry trying to borrow sugar again. She hated Jerry.
The real shock ca when the power went out. Her TV screen flickered to black, the hum of her fridge faded, and the entire apartnt fell into an unsettling silence.
"Are you kidding ?" Mallory groaned, tossing the empty snack bag onto the floor. She fumbled for her phone, ready to call the power company, but paused when the lights flickered back on a mont later.
Only now, things felt... different.
The fridge began to hum louder than usual, its internal light flickering erratically. Her apartnt thermostat beeped on its own, adjusting itself to a comfortable 72 degrees. Even her aging microwave suddenly lit up, its digital display showing an unfamiliar ssage:
"System Initialization Complete. Welco, Resident Mallory Greene."
Mallory blinked at the microwave, certain she was imagining things.
"Did I fall asleep on the remote again?" she mumbled. But before she could investigate, her phone buzzed with an ergency alert:
"Zombie outbreak confird. Seek shelter imdiately. Avoid infected individuals."
For the first ti that day, Mallory stood up. Shuffling to the window, she peeked through the curtains and froze.
The city outside was chaos. Smoke billowed from distant fires, people were screaming and running in every direction, and... were those zombies? A horde of staggering, snarling figures sward the streets below, their decayed faces and jerky movents straight out of a horror movie.
Mallory's mouth dropped open. "Oh, hell no."
She backed away from the window, her mind racing. Should she run? Barricade the door? Call soone for help? None of those options seed appealing. Running required effort, and she didn't even own a hamr to properly barricade anything.
But as her panic began to rise, the apartnt chid. A soft, cheerful ding echoed through the living room. Turning toward the sound, Mallory saw a ssage appear on her TV screen:
"Threat Detected. Safe Zone Activated. Security Protocols Engaged."
Before she could process what that ant, a loud crash shook the hallway outside her door. Sothing—or soone—was pounding against it, growling and snarling. Mallory grabbed the nearest weapon she could find, which happened to be a half-empty soda can, and braced herself.
The pounding grew louder, but then, just as suddenly, it stopped. A faint hum filled the air, followed by another cheerful chi from her apartnt. The TV screen updated:
"Intrusion Neutralized. Zone Secured."
Cautiously, Mallory crept to the door and peered through the peephole. The hallway was empty, except for a crumpled figure on the floor—a zombie, slumped over and motionless.
"What the...?" she whispered, her heart racing.
The apartnt chid again, almost as if it were responding to her confusion. A final ssage appeared on the TV:
"Relax, Resident Mallory Greene. Your safety is guaranteed."
She stared at the screen, then at the zombie outside her door, then back at the screen. Slowly, she lowered the soda can and shuffled back to her couch.
"Well," she said, sinking into the cushions. "I guess I'm staying ho."
Mallory reached for a new bag of chips, flipped her TV to a rerun of her favorite sitcom, and decided to wait out the apocalypse from the comfort of her living room.
While she's in comfort. Wailing, shouting, and even killing is now rampant outside of her apartnt.
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