yumiko27

This was one of the most interested non-lucid dreams I've had in a long time. I always figured if I had a zombie apocalypse dream, it would be more akin to a nightmare. This dream...was not.

I was sitting with my parents and these two twin girls, Lisa and Ana. The girls were good friends of mine in the dream, or at least Ana was. Her sister was the snobby type that I could have done without. Regardless, all five of us sat there discussing the shocking news.
The zombie apocalypse had finally reared its ugly head--and it had done so in the most quiet manner ever. On the television, the news anchor explained that only about several hundred people had been infected by the "zombie virus". There were no corpses rising out of graves. Once fully dead, always dead.
These zombies were different.
In the dream, no one knew how the infection had started and it didn't really matter. All everyone knew was that the victim's skin would slowly turn a pale green, then a puke color. Their eyes would eventually go bloodshot from the nauseating madness that was overpowering their minds. Then, the only thing left in them was the urge to bite and kill. All this took several agonizing hours. Becoming a zombie was not quick by any means in my dream.
Daddy turned off the television and looked at us. Ever the hard worker, he quickly explained that we needed special artillery.
"There is a type of gun,"he explained,"that can kill a zombie with just a few shots, sometimes even one."
The gun would absorb any sort of water and turn the organs into dust. It was a very internal death, with no outward signs of affect.
We all went and gathered the conveniently placed guns, save Lisa. Who fervently refused to move from her spot.
"I've got more important things to worry about than some fake zombies,"she explained with a flip of her brunette hair.
Her sister and I gazed at her with disbelief.
"Lisa, you need to stay with us,"Ana pleaded. It was safest to stay in groups, and houses weren't exactly zombie proof.
"How about you shut up?"
I gave her a look and muttered,"How about you get back down to Earth, moron? This is reality, not fantasy."

As I had remembered that part of the dream, I cracked up.

Lisa, however, was not to be swayed.
The next thing I know, the artillery was gathered and we headed back to the living room. What we met was a shocking surprise. There, on the couch, was a twitching Lisa. In the short amount of time we had left, zombies had broken in and bit her nearly to death. We had no time for mourning. All of us quickly shot the zombies that were crouched over Lisa, their mouths frothing. Momma seemed especially amazing as she calmly shot three in the head, instantly killing them. Ana avenged her sister's demise by killing several of the monsters herself. With tears in her eyes, she shot her sister, mercifully sparing her the pain of the transformation. Hours went by, as more zombies crept in.
I had ran out of firepower, and needed to go get some more. Foolishly, I went outside alone. Miraculously, I was not harmed and no zombies ambushed me. However, I had apparently taken far longer than I had expected. There, sprawled across the floor, was my dear friend. She was dead, killed by her own bullet.
Momma looked at me sadly and murmured,"She took down more than any of us. Even after she was bitten, she still fought. Until, it became too difficult. Then, she killed herself."
There were no zombies in the room, only the faint stench of decay and an overwhelming feeling of melancholy.
I felt too numb to move and the shock of losing Ana was almost too much for me to handle.
My depression would have to wait, though, as my dad cleared his throat and said,"Um, Ash, we have company."
I looked up from the spot I standing on and saw a good looking guy around my age just several feet away. He had shaggy, brown hair and was a faint green. He had been infected. I aimed the gun and shot twice.
"W-wait! I haven't been fully turned yet,"he explained.
Apparently, he had fought off his transformation for several hours. That in itself was astounding, but he admitted himself that it was taking its toll on him.
"I...I really don't feel all that well anymore,"he weakly explained.
"Well, being shot twice in the chest can do that to you,"I sarcastically replied.
He smiled and exclaimed,"Well, don't you have a way with words, Miss Redhead."
If the situation wasn't so serious, I might have blushed. The guy seemed pretty nice. We talked for a few more minutes, until he finally seemed resigned to his fate.
"Before I lose my sense of reason, please kill me,"he pleaded. This time, I was a bit hesitant. However, the poor guy was suffering and could not fight the infection much longer. I shot him several times and he slowly crawled to the couch.
As he lay there, dying, he muttered that he could feel the process of dehydration. I had to head out to put up the guns, assuring my parents that I would be okay.
I turned to the guy, who clearly did not have much time left, and asked,"What is your name?"
"...Thomas."
What an old fashioned name. I looked at him for a moment more, then left.
A few minutes later, I returned. My new found friend was no more, my parents explaining that they had called for help and the bodies were in another room. I thought about Ana, Lisa, and even Thomas. How if it wasn't for the idiot who first got infected, they would still be here. All this left me completely speechless. Then, I began to cry.

I immediately wrote down this dream when I woke up. Not one part of it could be omitted and I spent about an hour recalling even the most minute of details. I haven't had such an interesting dream since that recurring one about that seer.