By: Seng Nhkum

By: Daniel Kendle
(This article is meant to be read after the Zombie Apocalypse Survival Guide).
So let’s say that you, likely a high school student, have woken up one uneventful Friday morning. You’re happy about your 3-day weekend ahead, and head downstairs to fix yourself some breakfast. Popping 2 slices of bread into the toaster, you pour yourself a sip of coffee, and turn around towards your kitchen window to see a hoard of greenish-gray, maggot-ridden corpses limping around the street.
And then you wake up.
It was all a dream! You laugh and stretch your arms in a trance of hedonistic elation. The truth is: you’re fine. Zombies don’t exist, outside of that species of ant fungus you hear about on MPR. You throw off your covers, hop out of bed, and begin to remind yourself to check out the new season of ‘The Last of Us.’ That is, until your thoughts are cut short – just like your bedroom.
Half of your house is missing.
Your lips quiver in silent shock. Like a cake cut cleanly into 2, your 3-story home has had half of it seemingly vanish. You peer below the exposed floor beneath you, into the living room. The couch, TV, coffee table…once normal furniture now appears more akin to those of a sliced-open dollhouse.
But who did this? You find your answer soon enough: in the distance, a pair of flying saucers stiffly suck up a car in a lavender tractor beam. They do the same with a tree, a dog, and some geese before speeding away together.
Obviously, most people would cry, scream, wail at this sight. A phenomenon only known to pop culture ideals, but now in real life? Oh, the horror! But you, no. You’ve read my zombie alien apocalypse survival guide, and now, you know exactly what to do. Because now, here is…
HOW TO SURVIVE AN ALIEN INVASION IN 5 EASY, UH…ISH STEPS:
. . .
#1: A BRIEF LESSON IN INTELLIGENCE
So: Aliens have begun an invasion of Earth. Now what? Well, unlike other kinds of apocalypses, aliens are functionally-different from other kinds of threats.
The main differentiator between aliens and zombies (and most apocalyptic threats, really) is intelligence. Aliens, truth be told, are smart! I mean, they’d have to be to get those rinky-dink dirigibles off the ground, let alone across space. Zombies are the opposite: slow-moving, dim-witted creeps that skulk along the ground.
With this fact comes another soon after: while brains may be an alien’s strength, it’s also their weakness. For any species, increased intellect also comes with increased susceptibility; ergo, they can be outwitted. Say what you want about zombies, but an advantage of being stupid is defense against the cunning.
These 2 pointers will be referenced throughout this guide, for they’re among the most key points of any philosophy for surviving an alien attack. But with them out of the way, we can finally get down to the nitty-gritty.
#2: YOUR FIRST DAY
To begin, let’s establish your goals to accomplish by the end of day 1: you’ll want food, water, and at least a temporary shelter of some kind. Simple, right? Well, it would be, if not for the giant flying vacuum cleaners outside.
By the time you wake up, it’s more than expected that most surrounding infrastructure will be in ruins. Thus, you’ll want to be able to rely on your own 2 legs for transportation; cars, bikes, and even scooters won’t be able to adeptly traverse the wreckage around you. Pack a small bag of tools, toiletries and a few personal items, and set off into the hostile world.
You might initially find yourself not knowing where to start. Aliens pose a deep threat to Earth, yes, though will be more focused on mass extinction of the human race rather than just little, old you. Unless you’re a narcissist, this is great news! Having your opponents fixate on a large group of individuals actually helps your chances of survival. It’s a study of Darwinism at its finest, though now replacing “finches” with “Uncle Mike.”
All of this is to say that there probably won’t be any aliens randomly strolling around. If you’re swift, stealthy and able to keep an eye on the sky, you probably won’t face any issues looting small shops and market stands. With the limited space in your bag, prioritize preservables and seeds, along with bottled water. If you ever find yourself filling fast on food, take a second in a hidden cavity to sort out your most important goodies. Then, cache your leftover items for later.
Now we just need to find a good shelter. This is pretty simple: you’re gonna want to find an area that’s already been pillaged, to a noticeable extent. That way, any UFO’s probing the area won’t bat an eye at where you’ve set up camp. If you leave no traces, any enclosed ruins will provide good cover – for now.
#3: ALIEN COMBAT 101
You’ve done well thus far: you have sustenance, a temporary home, and some scavenged supplies for your journey ahead. But there’s another question that some may already be wondering: what happens if I actually encounter an alien?
Well, sorry to burst your bubble, ‘E.T.’ sympathists: it turns out that a meeting with one of these suckers won’t exactly be a walk in the park. I’ve already said it’s unlikely to meet an alien strolling around, but it’s never unheard of, either. So in preparation for such a scenario, here’s “Combat Wombat™’s Fun-tastic Fightin’ Guide!”
Alright, those are some good general pointers, but what about moves? Well, here’s a couple that I’ve employed once or twice.
I have more, but hopefully these are enough to satiate your bloodlust. Have fun, and don’t die!
#4: HOME RENOVATIONS & THE DIFFERENT LIGHT SPECTRUMS
You’ve done well to make it this far, but by now you’re probably outgrowing home amongst the abandoned ruins. In an alien apocalypse, you’ll never want to be too settled in an area at the risk of a sudden raid. But for those nonetheless looking for a place to call home, I’ve got you covered.
I’m limited in my Home Economy know-how (and college credits), but I can safely say that camouflage is a must-have when building a new shelter. But how so? Well, not only do you have to account for your home’s physical form, you also have to deal with alien vision.
Popping on my scientist glasses for a sec, aliens see in different light waves than humans, and most animals for that matter. Unlike us, they’re able to see not only our colors, but also either ultraviolet or infrared spectrums, depending on their species’s frontal lobe development.
But here’s the problem: if we can’t see what aliens can, then how can we efficiently blend in with our surroundings? At first this may seem like an inconquerable “2 steps ahead” question, but I do have a solution: mirrors.
Humans are the only species in the universe to have invented mirrors, due to us getting the winning bid for silver manufacturing in the Universal Economic Bidding Event of 13,800,000,000 BC. Us humans won over the Gorgulocks with a bid of 43 Zeptocoins (in the event the Gorgulocks are the ones invading Earth, then this is likely the reason for it).
But I digress. Since aliens don’t know what mirrors are, building an igloo-like structure out of them is a sound idea. When they look down upon your base they’ll see themselves, probing shock, then confusion, then a philosophical quandary, then self-combustion. Awesome!
#5: YOUR MISSION
So far, you’ve learned to scavenge, fight, build, and thrive in this dystopian world. That’s all fine and dandy, but you can’t ride out an alien invasion indefinitely. No, you need some kind of end goal to fend off these parasites, and restore Earth to its former glory.
*Sigh.*
I guess there’s no point in hiding the truth any longer.
My name is Maeve Doherty. I’m an FBI terrorist crimes operative who’s been temporarily assigned to a project involving bioengineering. As of writing this, my team and I are knee-deep in work on a, uh…device meant to be used by the US military.
Earth is currently set to exceed healthy population density by 2055. We here in Area 51 have known about this for some time, and have spent the last 3 decades attempting to find a fix. None have presented themselves, however, so we’ve decided to pull the trigger on our last resort.
This device, nicknamed “Charlie Beetle,” is a 43-ton hypernuke filled with a newly-invented element: Mutonium. This element was first discovered in the Russian steppe, sampled by blood-draining a 5-legged mountain goat corpse. The result? An element that, when mixed with plutonium, can produce an explosion capable of ending all sentient life – at the absolute minimum.
The US government has spent a fortune on subterranean bunkers meant to be leased out to the 0.001%. Unfortunately, the high cost of rent for these places means that there’ll be barely enough genetic variance amongst the dozen or so billionaires in each to create even 1 new generation, let alone repopulate the Earth. To make matters worse, they probably nickname their offspring “Gen Tesla” or some dumb crap like that.
This nuclear fallout, one unavoidable for most, is the reason I made this safety pamphlet. Actually, it’s why I made the zombie apocalypse guide as well. If we’re to hope that someday, somehow, society can be rebuilt, we’ll need to insure our species’s survival until then. These 2 guides are to aid you in combatting any subsequent apocalyptic threats that may threaten that dream.
To whomever may read this: live long. Live well, happily, and craftily. If you survive this bomb and live past the gaseous effects, tell your children what you’ve learned here. Have them tell their children. Have those children tell theirs, and them theirs, and on and on until our world is safe again.
I know I likely won’t live to see this utopia, but as long as someone somewhere can…
…it might just be worth it.
. . .
(P.S: If you’re wondering why I wouldn’t just write a nuclear fallout guide… er… s-shut up.)
By: Daniel Kendle
‘Seen far above, o’ frenzied prince, may the dagger pierce the heart of the enemy,
Trickling blood onto-us, the feeders, yes.
They’re coming, faster and faster, stags in rut…
Lucid serpents that want for the mere chance at substance,
Valhalla…
The blood is seeping. It’s coming quicker, faster
Fangs bared, so much so to deflect a silver “Bullit”
May the gods see our fate, and envy it;
This night of naked lust and licentious frenzy shall be our curtain act.
Valhalla…’
– Unknown, ‘Vampyr Codos’ (1662, adpt.)
Plunged through the heart of the man, he shrunk down to the floor once again, hand briefly hitting wool sheets. He slumped down further, coiling into a fetal position as he weakly attempted to clasp his neck.
Magnus stepped back a bit, then forward. He peered down at the man – Arthur, as he would soon learn – and prodded their head with his shoe, turning it over. It was still fresh, though quickly turning gray. From his mouth, his teeth still had hints of fuschia spittle, tongue shredded along the top. A thin red line dribbled onto the floor, inside the wood cracks, and below.
His fangs were slowly turning black.
Magnus smirked, and pushed the head to face away again. He straightened himself, adjusting his frill and brushing down his coat. With his job done, he relaxed, silently rolling his shoulders for a few seconds. The moon’s ascent wasn’t any faster than normal; who needed to hurry?
“A bat-toothed lunatic, that’s who,” Magnus answered (he often answered his own questions; a egotistical relic from childhood). He snickered, poking the vampire’s arm with the blunt of his mace. It quickly grew into a loose laugh as he shook his head, leaving the bedroom.
The arm he’d poked had begun to melt into dust.
The castle’s labyrinthine make was of little difficulty to navigate when entering, but after the matter of the bounty, it seemed impossible.
Upon first trespassing, Magnus made note of the path to the duke’s room: 2 lefts, a right, down the under hall, and up the spiral steps. From there, accessing the sleeping chamber was a simple affair, all thanks to a hidden entrance just outside of the bedroom’s door. Yet now, only minutes after going inside the chamber, everything seemed scrambled.
“Bloody vampires,” he gritted, and started off down the hallway. To make matters worse, the secret entrance had disappeared too. “Even post-mortem, they make things hard.”
These grumbling continued for a while as the maze closed in around him (cussing inevitably following suit). A window here, a suit of armor there… but suddenly, they’re gone? Something wasn’t adding up for the mercenary.
Panic began to set in. Without a safe drop from a window, Magnus was stuck on the highest floor. He started to jog in laps around the halls, darting through rooms he’d already explored in search of something new. He began to hyperventilate, dancing between taking his chances with jumping through a window after all or staying put. He brushed these thoughts aside, continuing down a manic trail, rounding and rounding in circles.
Finally, he stopped. Before Magnus was a grand dining hall, one impossible to have missed earlier.
‘Wasn’t another hallway here?’ He thought, though nonetheless entered. At the end was a pair of diverting staircases leading to 2 exits upon a miniature second floor. Both were lit by hallowing red candlelight, but only the left door had –
“The rope!” Magnus said happily, fist pumping slightly. He’d fastened a white knot around one of the first doors he’d encountered when first entering. While he had doubted its use in navigating the corridors prior, Magnus silently thanked himself over and over while he ran to the final checkpoint.
Suddenly, just before him, smoke began to coil and build. A tower of navy mist spiraled up in front of the adventurer, hitting the ceiling and stretching outwards like a tree. It churned for a few moments, eyes of demons visible through the vortex’s cracks. They screamed in agony, briefly stabbing claws towards Magnus’ chest.
Then, just as soon as it started, the smoke started to adjourn, wafty puffs slowly dissipating into the warmly-lit room once again. Amidst the ruckus of knocked-over furniture from the wind’s appearance, Magnus’ eyes were soon acclimated to the world once again.
“Magnus,” a voice calmly said, “it’s been some time, I opine?”
“Dracula.” Magnus tightened his grip on his whip.
“You appear to be stuck, given your…less than collected bravado.”
“I’m fine. Really – there’s a door leading to the front gate right over the-!” He started, then gasped. The doors had disappeared, replaced with the same thick stone bricks that surrounded the rest of the castle. “B-bu… wha-?”
“This is a tricky set of corridors. Tsk.” Dracula shook his head. “Everyone knows a vampire’s lair becomes the bloodsucker’s tomb once slain. Not only theirs though, but anyone else’s who is found inside.”
“Never mind that!” Magnus roared. “Where’s the exit! You really can’t be telling me that-”
“You’re trapped?” Dracula replied. “Unfortunately, yes.”
At this point, Magnus began to panic further, eyes darting around the walls for a potential escape route.
“Please, Dracula. Is there any way to get out of here?”
“Well…Dracula trailed off, “there is…one way out.”
. . .
“Alright, so (oh, let’s see here)…er, do I jump with B?”
“No, n- here, you jump with A, and melee attack with B,” Magnus interjected, leafing through the manual. “Yeah, then switch your weapon with Y, and reload with X.”
“Oh, right. Uh…okay, I think I can…” Dracula paused, “I think I can do this. Give the magazine here, I wanna reference it.
“What? Dude, this, ahem, journal is vintage, 2001 vintage. You’re lucky I’m unsheathing it from my binder already.”
“I’d hardly expect the first ‘Halo’ game to garner such an occultist fanbase,” Dracula sniffed. He happily watched the Master Chief run around in circles, all while Jackal Snipers shot at him.
“See, this…this i-is fun, man!” He happily stammered.
“God, man…” Magnus groaned. Still, he grabbed a second controller.
And the two new friends played and laughed all day long.
By: Christine Yang
Artist statement:
This artwork was made especially for a Personal Project. The artwork was created with the use of oil pastels, which I really enjoyed using and took me about 10 hours to finish.
I was really inspired by an oil paint artwork, “The Starry Night” by Vincent Van Gogh.
Even though I really want others to have their own interpretation of it, but for me, it’s about how a person you loved but they’re not in your life anymore, so you replay moments with them which makes you want to crave their presence. As you wait for them to return back into your life again, they’re slowly moving on, like fading away.
By: Daniel Kendle
“The accepted theory that the serpent is evil cannot be substantiated. It has long been viewed as the emblem of immortality. It is the symbol of reincarnation, or metempsychosis, because it annually sheds its skin…It was also believed that snakes swallowed themselves, and this resulted in their being considered emblematic of the Supreme Creator, who periodically reabsorbed His universe back into Himself.”
– Manly Palmer Hall
. . .
A small crowd had formed around the cutout, varying sizes of men and women clustered together, trying to peer at the thin figure. They chattered, a collection of the like-minded. Emrys watched them from across the convention hall.
The pop-up, a cheap plastic setup, was of some kind of video game character. He was clad in green, with metallic armor that segmented his arms from his chest, legs from thigh, and head from neck. A helmet rounded off the suit, giving off the impression of some kind of insect. In his hand was a sword – sword? Gun? Emrys couldn’t tell – that almost glowed, being a light blue with 2 separated, parallel blades. To the side, a small signpost read, “‘HALO: INFINITE 2: 2 INFINITE 2 HANDLE’ – COMING SOON TO GAMEPASS.”
Fans gawked; clearly, this character meant a great deal to each of them. A couple had pushed their stroller in a blitz to be first, where the pair were now taking photos of the pop-up with their baby, much to the ire of unamused attendees.
Emrys stroked his lanyard’s cloth, up and down, then back again. He felt the cool plastic, then warm weaving as he brushed his fingers over the letters “E3.” He was fairly anxious; his foot had fallen asleep despite constant tapping.
His brother was now 30 minutes late to arrive.
“Mr. Bach?” A curious voice came from behind him. Emrys turned to face an older man, somewhere in his 50’s. His hair was white, shirt, blue, and he wore a necklace similar to his, only with a gold trim. “I was told to expect your arrival for the tour.”
“Oh, uh,” the boy said, quickly sneaking another look outside at cars and gulps, “yes, that’s me.”
“Wonderful. Please, if you’ll follow me – Microsoft’s conference will be beginning soon, and the rest of the group is getting…antsy.”
Emrys nodded, and the man and boy started off toward the convention hall’s innards. The man’s sunken eyes occluded subtle thought, and Emrys ignored any attempt to vie for a conversation. They walked in silence, with the roar of surrounding guests replacing a dialogue.
“…and we hope that, in today’s showcase, you’ll see the Power. The Power…” a green-shirted speaker said, “…of ‘X.’”
The thickly-packed crowd cheered. Lights flashed, then dimmed, and the stage was enveloped in dense smoke. Emrys and the other tour members smiled; this was it. The Microsoft presentation. It was E3 2037, and the company behind your favorite data encryption controversies was only moments away from announcing their newest console. The lights further dimmed, and a low murmur from the crowd became a raucous roar as the CEO of Microsoft, Mike Rosoph, strolled onstage. He gripped the microphone in one hand, pocketing the other. Clapping soon followed.
“Yes, yes, hello, my loyalists,” he chuckled, “and welcome to E3 2037. Haveth the dawn cometh soon?”
“Soon and well, master ‘Soph,” Emrys and the crowd repeated. They all did a gesture with their hands as if their digits were a game controller; a cult-like symbol.
”We here at So-er, Microsoft, have much to show y’all today. A fact indeed – as for Sony, well, that promise is merely a farce” The crowd laughed softly. Rosoph pulled out a clicker and clicked it a few times. See, using the clicker, he was able to catalyze his joke through audible response, letting the audience know when to laugh. See also the fact that Mike Rosoph was a narcissist.
“We’ve a good handful of exciting announcements for you chuckle-ducks. ‘DOOM: Song of the Damned,’ ‘Fallout 2020,’ and a new screenshot of the horses in ‘The Elder Scrolls VI,’” Rosoph said. Another cheer went up. It had been only months since a fan programmed ‘DOOM’ to run on a stretched piece of the muscle tissue of a pig; who knew what else the future had in store for the series?
“However,” Rosoph continued, “we also have, erm…another surprise in store. And hey, I suppose it’d be right to show y’all now, huh?” The crowd cheered again. The CEO pointed his now-glowing clicker at a black box hung above the stage. It began to descend, with more smoke wrapping around its edges.
“I ask this to everyone: do you have any guesses as to what this box means?”
A sea of heads turned. The cube was alien, really – it was so large, unlike anything they’d seen before. Murmurs spread, and a hand rose.
“Uh…er…a collaboration with N-Nintendo?” A lowly voice asked. Rosoph chuckled again, just as a trained sniper from the back of the auditorium readied a shot on the unfortunate man.
BAM.
The CEO smiled tightly, brushing a bloody tooth aside with his shoe. He clasped his hands together.
“Unfortunately, no. Instead, the boys and I down in Silicon Valley have been tinkering around with some new space-age tech for you ruffians to fiddle with. What we have here today is, well, let’s just say a prototype for a soon-to-launch update for our Game Pass subscription.” The man shifted a bit in his spot during the last sentence.
The crowd roared. Rosoph clicked a couple times again, and the cube opened like a sideways music box. An even thicker, greener plume of smog seeped from the growing crack. A noxious stench wafted through the air.
“We all have hobbies, yes – and it just so happens that ours has its limitations. See, my team’s been trying to figure out how to best merge video games and reality together, to leave behind the screen, the VR headsets, all that jazz. And so, we here at Xbox Studios and Microsoft proudly present…Gamepass X.”
A shaded figure could now be seen from inside the box, seemingly tied up with rope and chains. It took Emrys a minute to adjust to the smoke, but once he did, he wished he could look away. He wished he could vomit.
It was his brother.
A torpid knot in Emrys’ stomach curled, loosened, then curled again. The gamers around him paused in shock, then slowly began to clap. This spiraled; the applause evolved into a rhythmic clapping sensation. Rosoph clicked the clicker a final time, then threw it to an assistant offstage.
The boy began moving forward. He tried muscling his way to the front of the audience, now a standing mass that obscured most of the presentation.
“Do you want to see? Do you?!” Mike Rosoph screeched, electrifying the chorus before him. “See me, gods; be my acolyte!”
With that, the box closed around Emrys’ brother once again, with only a sliver of green light poking through. Screams echoed through the cube as the lights dimmed, and a spotlight remained on the shape, transfixed. People slowly quieted as the moans continued, until all remained in awe of the horror before them. Emrys was the only attendee still in motion, struggling towards the sight.
Ding! The cries stopped suddenly, and steam silently erupted from the box, unfurling once again. Emrys stopped in his tracks, startled. He was only a few feet away from the stage.
For a moment, everything stood still. The sun, the moon, and everything in between paused as onlookers watched the future turn and writhe. Then, a giant, green, raptorial leg reached high into the air, then slowly set back down onto the concrete below again. A skin-wrapped arm next, then a long, scythe-like tail. Visions of blood filled Emrys’ head as he began backing away.
Then, just before he turned to flee, he noticed a mark on the stretched skin of the newly-emerged bat-like wing.
It was an X.