Revelation... Is This Real?
I kept blinking endlessly before this unbelievable reality. No matter how many times I closed my eyes and opened them again, the numbers on my phone matched exactly with the ones on the paper clutched in my hand.
983rd Lotto Winning Numbers
13 • 23 • 26 • 33 • 35 • 43
"Whoa... fuck."
A thrilling shiver coursed through my entire body. My brain started flooding with dopamine at the realization that I'd nailed this life-changing gamble. Thick euphoria seeped in. Followed by despair.
'This shouldn't be matching up...'
The lotto numbers from the dream. And in that dream, I'd been bitten to death by a zombie.
I had a dream. A bullshit one.
It was the kind where I watched myself from a third-person view, and the more I replayed it, the less entertaining it got. All it left me with was disillusionment—like, "Whoa... so this is the crap life I was living."
Heading to work every morning, grinding away, dragging myself home. That monotonous loop times thirty days. The dream spanned a full month, but it boiled down to just three sentences.
A shitty existence of slaving away diligently every single day.
One day, the moment I opened the door to head to work, a zombie lunged out and sank its teeth into my neck.
I died.
So after waking up, it barely registered. Just shrugged it off as some dumb dream. Dreams fade fast anyway.
While dreaming, I'd writhed in torment for that entire month, but once awake, it didn't feel all that heavy.
Still, afterward, this nagging sense of déjà vu kept creeping in. The new hire looked weirdly familiar. The fresh assignment felt like something I'd tackled before.
On a hunch, I racked my brain to dredge up a lotto number. Managed to recall four: 13, 23, 33, 43.
I even remembered griping that they felt too patterned for "random" picks.
I scraped together combos from those four digits and bought a whopping 820 lotto tickets.
Truth be told, I didn't seriously expect a hit—it was mostly for shits and giggles...
But I struck gold: first prize, second prize, and a shitload of third prizes.
"Whoa... fuck."
Back home, I sorted through my thoughts.
Everything from the dream was replaying in real life.
Which meant... zombies were coming too.
What the hell could I do now to dodge the end of the world?
'Nah.'
No matter how I turned it over, there was jack shit I could actually pull off.
And honestly? I didn't give a damn.
Sacrificing for other people? Yeah, that life didn't suit me one bit.
Whatever. Long as I make it, who cares? With all this cash now, it'd be a goddamn waste to just croak.