Just a normal Tuesday (Patreon)

"Hmm hmm hmmm," I hummed as I waited for the k-cup machine to drip a fresh cup of coffee into the crimson cup. It was a Tuesday morning in the 3DXcentric offices, where I had been working for over a year, now. I nonchalantly scratched the back of my calf with my opposite toes as I waited. The smell of fresh Arabian beans filled my nose. In my left arm was a portfolio of model information I was to transcribe into the office database; in my right was a pen.

With my cup full, I carried it over to my desk near the front lobby doors and prepared for another dull, but satisfying day of work.

Everything was perfectly routine.

Until someone smashed through the glass doors.

"GET DOWN!"

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKK!!!" I screamed as my life went from boring repetition to chaos. Someone heavy had tackled me to the ground, sending papers, coffee, and my sanity all over the place. Oh, my Chiropractor was going to hear about this one.

The assailant lifted up onto their knees and peeked over my desk, breathing heavy and covered in dirt and oil. She looked down at me.

"What are you doing here?!" she said. She had matted brown hair that hung over her right eye. It looked kind of cool. She was dressed in what appeared to be a strange Policewoman's uniform - and it looked like it had seen a lot of damage. She was still straddling me.

"W-working!?" I stammered. I tried to reach for my portfolio. This wasn't the first time someone barged in here very confused.

"WORKING? Don't you realize it's hell on Earth outside!?" she commanded. She carried an air of authority I'd not seen before. I grabbed the portfolio and checked the model's face to the woman's.

"You're Jill Valentine," I said. "You're from the S.T.A.R.S. unit."

"How do you know that!?"

I showed her the bio and her picture.

"You're here for a photo shoot, not a zombie invasion. Just think about it." Jill snatched it from my hands and read it. She then looked at me, and then back at the portfolio. She looked outside at people who were staring back at her as if she were crazy. Her police car was still there, haphazardly parked in front of the building with lights and sirens still blaring.

"A photo shoot..." she said with a furrowed brow. "Oh. Right... you're right. How strange."

I blushed as I felt her weight on me. "It's okay, it happens all the time."