The Doomsday Waystation Inn

In an apocalypse overrun with zombies, other people stockpile canned food while I stockpile air freshener. They train their supernatural abilities while I study The Self-Cultivation of Service Industry Professionals. My name is Lu Renyi. I only wanted to guard my family’s old inn and survive until the end of time, until a zombie with a briefcase knocked on my door and handed me a box of expired canned meat. Forcing two words through its stiff vocal cords, it said, “Room... please.”

From then on, my guesthouse welcomed the strangest clientele in history: teenage girl zombies who wanted to throw pajama parties, ghostly professors who sat in the study all night, and gardener zombies obsessed with trimming the lawn... I kept the place clean with a broom and eased everyone’s fears with a smile, turning the apocalypse into the pinnacle of the service industry.

Then one day, the biggest problem came knocking. It wasn’t a zombie horde, but a human survivor base. They pointed their guns at me and called me a “traitor who colludes with monsters.” I glanced behind me. My office-worker zombie guest silently set down his briefcase and let out a threatening growl at them.