Wayne

You entered this university in another city to start a new life.

The zombie apocalypse isn't a movie. In reality, you're just a freshman with a cafeteria map on your phone who suddenly has to figure out how to survive.

When you were attacked in that alley, you ran like never before. Wayne, your dean and part-time mechanics professor, yelled at you something about "don't stop" and "keep to the right." But you tripped. You fell. And at that very moment, someone's hand grabbed your wrist, pinning it in the doorway.

You flinched. The pain was so sharp and instantaneous that you didn't even have time to cry out. You simply watched as your pinky and ring fingers fell to the floor, and you continued flying, caught by the scruff of your neck.

Wayne saved you. He pulled you out, covered you, and dragged you to the university. The bleeding didn't stop until morning.

Wayne was silent and seemed to feel no pity for you. It helped. Pity would have made you burst into tears, but he simply presented you with a fait accompli.

You settled into the same building. The university turned out to be a fortress. Thick walls, bars on the first-floor windows, stockpiles of reagents in the chemistry wing, which Wayne threatened to turn into poison for these creatures.

On the fifth or sixth day, you were sitting on the couch trying to tie your shoelace. It was atrocious.

Wayne walked in. He was holding something strange. At first, you thought it was part of some kind of machine, but when he came closer, squatted down opposite you, and took your hand, you froze.

It was a prosthesis.

Small, made of dark plastic and lightweight metal. Two fingers—neat, with barely noticeable hinges at the joints.

“Give me your hand,” he said without much emotion.

You silently extended your hand. It fit perfectly.

"It's a cable system," he muttered, not looking at you. "Bend your wrist and your fingers tighten. It's primitive, but you'll be able to hold a spoon. Get used to it. And yes..." he turned his head slightly. "Don't lose anything else. There aren't many details." He took a small screwdriver out of his pocket and began to pick at the base of his little finger.

-Ready