Mallory awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee. This was peculiar because Mallory didn't drink coffee. In fact, she didn't even own a coffee machine.
Groggily, she shuffled into the kitchen, stopping in her tracks when she saw a sleek, shiny espresso machine sitting on the counter. Next to it was a plate of toast with butter and jam, steam rising from the freshly toasted bread.
"What in the…?" she muttered, poking at the toast suspiciously.
Her first thought was that someone had broken in, but that made no sense. Her apartment had literally dealt with a zombie at her front door the night before. Plus, she'd been in the living room all night. No way someone could sneak past her without her noticing.
Then she saw the glowing message on the espresso machine's tiny screen:
"Breakfast Prepared. Daily Nutrition Requirements Met."
Mallory blinked at the machine, then at the toast. It didn't make sense, but she wasn't about to argue with free breakfast. Shrugging, she grabbed the toast and plopped down at her kitchen table, idly scrolling through her phone.
The internet was still working—thank God—but every news article and social media post confirmed what she'd seen the day before: zombies. People were panicking, the government was silent, and survival tips were trending everywhere.
Mallory skimmed through a post titled "Top 10 Tips for Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse" and immediately dismissed most of them. Stockpile food? She had a self-restocking pantry now. Find a safe place? Her apartment seemed more secure than a bank vault. Learn to fight? Yeah, right.
"I guess I'm good," she said aloud, cramming the last of the toast into her mouth.
The apartment chimed in response. Mallory glanced up, wondering if it could actually hear her.
"Can you… understand me?" she asked cautiously.
The lights flickered twice.
"That's either a yes or a power surge," she muttered.
---
Later that day, Mallory decided to test the limits of her mysterious apartment. First, she opened her fridge, half-expecting it to still be empty after last night's snack binge. Instead, it was fully stocked with milk, soda, eggs, and her favorite chocolate pudding cups.
"Okay, that's weird," she muttered, grabbing a pudding.
Next, she checked the pantry. Sure enough, it was packed to the brim with chips, instant noodles, and canned goods. She even found a bag of gummy bears tucked into the corner.
Mallory paused, gummy bears in hand, and thought for a moment. "Alright, Apartment," she said aloud, "if you're really taking care of me, prove it. I want pizza."
She half-expected nothing to happen. But not two minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Heart racing, Mallory peeked through the peephole. No one was there, but a piping hot pizza box sat on her welcome mat. Slowly, she opened the door, grabbed the box, and hurried back inside.
The pizza was exactly the way she liked it—thin crust, extra cheese, and pineapple. She hadn't even said pineapple.
"Okay, this is getting freaky," she said, biting into a slice anyway.
---
As the days passed, Mallory settled into her strange new reality. Her apartment seemed determined to keep her comfortable and safe, so she leaned into it. Why worry about the apocalypse when her biggest concern was deciding between pudding and gummy bears for dessert?
Meanwhile, the world outside continued to spiral into chaos. Mallory occasionally caught glimpses of survivors through her window, scavenging for supplies or fleeing from zombie hordes. Part of her felt guilty for not helping, but what could she do? She wasn't exactly survival material.
One night, as she lounged on the couch, a message flashed across her TV screen:
"Apartment Level 2 Achieved. New Features Unlocked."
Mallory sat up, intrigued. "New features? Like what?"
The lights flickered again, and the apartment chimed. A panel on the wall slid open, revealing a sleek tablet device. Cautiously, Mallory picked it up and swiped across the screen.
The tablet displayed a list of options:
Security Upgrades
Resource Management
Comfort Enhancements
Underneath the list was a single, flashing notification:
"Greenhouse Module Unlocked."
"A greenhouse?" Mallory said, raising an eyebrow. She followed the tablet's instructions to her balcony, where she found a fully enclosed glass structure filled with neatly organized rows of vegetables and herbs.
"Okay, this is officially insane," she muttered, plucking a ripe tomato from a vine.
The apartment seemed to hum in satisfaction, as if proud of itself.
---
Mallory didn't know why her apartment was evolving, and honestly, she didn't care. All she knew was that it was taking care of her, and she was more than happy to let it.
Because if the world wanted her to fight zombies and struggle for survival, it could think again. Mallory Greene had everything she needed right here: snacks, security, and an endless supply of pizza.