Chapter 31 - Chapter 31

Morning in Mallory's magical apartment began with a familiar scene of tranquility—until it wasn't.

The apartment's new "morning alert system," courtesy of Altair's tinkering, decided to test itself. It started with a gentle chime, but within seconds, the chime morphed into a cacophony of mariachi music, foghorns, and what suspiciously sounded like someone yelling, "It's doomsday! Run!"

"Altair!" Mallory screamed from her bed, her voice muffled by her pillow. "What fresh nonsense is this?"

Greg burst into her room, his hair sticking up in several directions. "Make it stop! It's like an alarm clock got possessed by a circus!"

Altair appeared in the doorway, grinning. "You're welcome! It's part of the apartment's new 'stay alert' feature. Gotta keep those survival instincts sharp!"

Mallory glared at him, dragging herself out of bed. "Altair, the only instinct I have right now is to strangle you with a roll of duct tape."

"Good morning to you too," Altair replied cheerfully.

---

By the time Mallory made it to the living room, the rest of the group was already gathered, each reacting to the chaotic morning in their own way. Zara sipped her tea with a deadpan expression, while Alex was calmly reading a book amidst the noise.

"I'm impressed," Alex said, not even glancing up. "This is loud enough to wake the dead. Literally."

Mallory snorted. "Great. Just what we need—zombies knocking on the door, complaining about the noise."

Greg, who was furiously flipping through a stack of manuals, groaned. "We have to disable this thing! What if it attracts unwanted attention?!"

"Relax," Altair said, waving a hand dismissively. "The apartment's defense system is top-notch. Besides, a little excitement never hurt anyone."

"Excitement is overrated," Mallory muttered, collapsing onto the couch. "All I want is a quiet morning with my breakfast and maybe a nap."

As if on cue, the kitchen appliances, now fully restored after their rebellion, sprang into action. The fridge, newly rebooted and mercifully free of its dictator complex, chimed politely.

"Good morning, residents. Breakfast is now being prepared."

"See?" Altair said with a smug grin. "Everything's under control."

The sound of sizzling bacon and the aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the air, instantly improving Mallory's mood.

"Maybe I'll forgive you," she said, grabbing a plate. "But only because food is involved."

---

The peaceful breakfast didn't last long.

A loud knock at the door shattered the moment, and everyone froze.

"Please don't let it be Tiffany," Greg whispered, his eyes wide.

Mallory sighed, reluctantly setting down her plate. "I'll get it. But if it's her, I'm throwing a waffle at her face."

She opened the door cautiously, only to find a ragged-looking man standing on the threshold. His clothes were torn, and he had a crazed look in his eyes.

"Uh, can we help you?" Mallory asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man pointed a trembling finger at her. "You! You're the one with the magical apartment!"

Mallory groaned. "Seriously? Do we have a neon sign outside or something?"

"I heard about this place," the man continued, his voice shaky. "People say it's a sanctuary. A safe haven!"

Greg peeked out from behind Mallory, looking horrified. "Oh no. It's happening. Word is spreading. We're going to get swarmed!"

Altair leaned against the doorway, smirking. "Well, look at us. Trendsetters in the apocalypse."

Mallory pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright, buddy, calm down. What do you want?"

"I just need food," the man said, his eyes darting nervously. "And maybe a place to stay? Just for a little while?"

Mallory hesitated, glancing back at the others. Zara shrugged, while Alex remained unreadable as always.

"Fine," Mallory said reluctantly. "But no funny business. And if you touch my snacks, we're gonna have a problem."

The man nodded quickly, stepping inside. "Thank you! You won't regret this."

---

It turned out, they absolutely regretted it.

The man, who introduced himself as Lenny, was a walking disaster. Within an hour, he managed to knock over a stack of books, spill tea on the couch, and somehow get stuck in the pantry.

"I don't know how he's survived this long," Zara muttered, watching as Lenny flailed helplessly, trying to free himself.

"I think the pantry's winning," Alex said dryly.

Mallory sighed, helping Lenny out of his predicament. "Alright, Lenny. Rule number one: Don't touch anything without asking. Rule number two: Don't break anything. Rule number three: Don't annoy me."

Lenny nodded, looking sheepish. "Got it. Sorry about the mess."

"Apology accepted," Mallory said. "Now sit down and don't move."

---

Despite the initial chaos, Lenny proved to be harmless, if a bit clumsy. He told them stories of the outside world—rumors of other survivors, strange mutations among the zombies, and a mysterious group known only as "The Overseers."

"Sounds like a cult," Mallory said, munching on a bag of chips.

"Probably is," Lenny replied. "But they're powerful. People say they're hoarding resources and experimenting on survivors."

Greg paled. "Experimenting? That's horrifying!"

Altair's eyes lit up. "Or fascinating, depending on your perspective."

"Let's not get involved," Mallory said firmly. "We've got enough problems without poking at some creepy cult."

---

As the day went on, the apartment's antics continued to keep everyone on their toes. The fridge decided to experiment with gourmet cooking, resulting in a series of "avant-garde" dishes that no one dared to eat.

"Is it supposed to glow?" Zara asked, poking at a plate of neon-green pasta.

The fridge's holographic face appeared, looking offended. "That is a masterpiece! A fusion of flavors and innovation!"

"It's a fusion of food poisoning," Mallory muttered, pushing the plate away.

Meanwhile, Altair unveiled his latest invention—a device he claimed could "enhance communication."

"It's basically a walkie-talkie," Zara said flatly.

Altair grinned. "But cooler!"

Greg sighed. "Why do I feel like this is going to backfire spectacularly?"

It didn't take long for him to be proven right. The device malfunctioned, emitting a high-pitched screech that sent everyone scrambling to cover their ears.

"Turn it off!" Mallory yelled.

"I'm trying!" Altair shouted, frantically pressing buttons.

When the device finally powered down, the group glared at Altair, who shrugged sheepishly. "Minor setback."

---

By the end of the day, Mallory was more than ready for some peace and quiet. She retreated to her room, flopping onto her bed with a sigh of relief.

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, the intercom crackled to life.

"Attention, residents," the fridge announced. "I have developed a new plan to optimize apartment efficiency. Please report to the living room immediately."

Mallory groaned, pulling the blanket over her head. "Why can't this place just let me sleep?"