Lorenzo Silvestri sat upon a couch in his mansion; his signature confident smile was nowhere to be seen, only a smile of pure confusion as he stared down at his grandchildren.
After all, they had just asked him about the most lucrative- I mean worst part of the event that came to be known as the zombie apocalypse.
"Grandpa, come onnnnn! I wanna know about it! Silver does toooo!"
Hannah's whining and the use of grandpa- Lorenzo still wasn't used to it- practically made him feel his hair get even grayer than it already was.
Lorenzo stared at them for another moment.
Hannah, the brown haired one, had a very determined expression on her face that reminded Lorenzo of when he was 15... on the other hand, Silver looked like she had been dragged by Hannah.
Finally, he just ran a hand through his hair, smiled a real, true smile, and sighed.
"Fine, since you insisted so... strongly."
Hannah, as expected, jumped in joy while Silver sat down on the couch next to Lorenzo.
"Just don't tell Snow... she'll kill me if she finds out about this."
"We won't tell momma!"
=--=--=--=
Just 10 years ago, the zombie apocalypse ended, and Lorenzo turned 50 as well.
Anyhow, 35 years ago, the apocalypse started.
For most everyone, it was chaos. People running, stampeding over others, preparing; albeit in vain. The virus at that time was airborne in most tropical nations; meaning you'd be infected from just breathing without some kind of gas mask.
But Lorenzo was not just anyone. He certainly wasn't one of the panicking schmucks down in the streets; no, he was the head of the Silvestri Family, in Norway. It was cold up there, so no zombie virus would carry over unless a zombie ran over.
But... how did he become head of the Family, and eventually that of an entire empire?
...well, it all started when Lorenzo was born, of course.
His parents hated him, right when he exited the womb.
So, as any good parent did, his father left him at the orphanage.
For 15 years, Lorenzo lived in the system as what could be described as a "bad boy"; not a gangster but definitely not a straight-A guy.
Then, his father started having heart problems. It was clear that he was going to die sooner or later; so instead of waiting, the man made the decision to grab Lorenzo from the system.
By that time, the boy had made a small group of delinquents. His manipulative skills allowed him to charm anyone he met into being his friend; he simply knew how people worked and how to get someone to want to be around him. He knew how to smile, sound, look, walk...
So when he was taken by his mother to be the heir for the Family, he didn't mind; he actually brought his "friends" with him.
2 years later, his father had finally flatlined, and Lorenzo was head of the Family. Most of his so-called friends had also left, not being able to be with organized crime organizations.
And with that, Lorenzo started really living. He used his wealth to buy whatever he wanted; cars, drugs, guns, drinks...
8 years, he lived like that. He used his tricks to become great friends with everyone in the Family, regardless of their status.
For 8 years, he had a group of people loyal to him, heart and soul.
Then, the apocalypse came.
Well, Lorenzo didn't give a fuck about the apocalypse, even though Norway eventually fell.
No, he just tried to ensure his own survival, through whatever means necessary.
Those means involved getting more people into his cult- I mean, survivor group.
This... was met with mixed results. Most people denied and tried to survive on their own; Lorenzo looked like the type of immature dolt that would lead them to their demise. Others joined just because they either didn't want to be alone or simply wanted the same thing as him.
But, when he was 26, he found someone. A 5 year old girl, frozen to near-death in the bathtub of some random apartment complex he and his group were raiding.
Her hair was white; her eyes blue, and her skin pale.
Lorenzo swore he couldn't feel a pulse when he first checked; after a minute though, he managed to catch a beat, although it was faint and softer than a feather.
So, he took her back to the camp, warmed her up by a fire, and made a vow then.
He wasn't just going to ensure his own survival, but her's too.
He didn't know why he felt like doing so, but he just... felt deep inside that this was something he couldn't not do.
And, in the interest of ensuring their continued survival, he decided to make sure to recruit more people to his group. More people meant more bodies between him, her, and death.
So, he cleaned himself up; started dressing professionally- suits are stylish anyways- and even set up a central base that would soon be known as Silvestri's District. After all, people naturally gravitated to those who looked professional than those who looked immature.
His manipulative tricks suddenly started ensnaring a whole lot more people; so many that he had to form several Outer Sects in order to house them all, and even created a guard force- the Aviators.
In the cold ever-winter of Norway, Lorenzo created himself an empire, a safe place for both him and the girl he had come to call his daughter.
Oh, and her name was Snow.
By the time he was 30, his empire was fully-fledged and regarded as either the worst enemy one could have or the greatest ally.
His name was whispered in fear or said in gratefulness, and he made what could only be called a post-apocalyptic civilization.
When he turned 40, the virus died off. The airborne disease was no more across the entire world, and the Aviators were seeing fewer and fewer zombies on their horse patrols.
Two days after his 50th birthday, the Aviators concluded a full sweep of Norway. No zombies were spotted. At all.
Radio broadcasts also told them the same thing- America was clear, Germany was clear, Russia was clear... one after the other, sections of the world were rid of the zombie threat.
Eventually, the undead danger was no more.
So, of course, some people pushed for attempting to recreate pre-apocalypse society; but, sadly for them, too many people preferred this way of life. The freedom, thrill, and joy of being out in the world with close to no restrictions was more enticing than living paycheck-to-paycheck and worrying if you have enough to pay the bills, much less buy food.
=--=--=--=
"And that's my story, and that's how this world came to be the way it is. You both satisfied now?" Lorenzo asked as he chuckled lightly at Silver's bewildered expression and Hannah's look of awe.
"Grandpa..." Hannah murmured, her eyes locked on Lorenzo's for a second, before she finally finished loudly, "I wanna be like Grandpa! I wanna trick a buncha people to do my bidding!"
Lorenzo simply patted Hannah's head with a warm smile; a real smile, not the one he used to get people comfy. "I've already tricked everybody, so there's no-one for you to trick here."
Hannah grumbled something under her breath- Lorenzo couldn't hear, darn his old ears- and crossed her arms over her chest but didn't do anything else; Silver, on the other hand, stared at some of the bottles on the table in front of them.
It was a short coffee table that was level with the cushions of the couch, but it certainly didn't carry coffee.
No, it carried wine and other sorts of alcohol.
"Silver, you can't have that yet. Wait another 15 years and maybe."
End.