It’s almost Halloween, the perfect time to ask the question you’ve secretly been pondering all year: What would happen if there was a zombie apocalypse at Exeter? Would you storm the corridors like a Cardiac Hill warrior, barricade yourself behind glass doors with prosecco in hand, or quietly disappear while no one notices?
We’ve rated every first-year accommodation on strategy, physical fitness, morale under stress, and their weapon of choice to find out which halls would make it through the undead uprising and which would be snack number one.
From Cardiac Hill warriors at Birks to the aesthetic-obsessed East Parkers, Exeter students bring their own unique survival strategies (or lack thereof) to the apocalypse. Some halls rely on sheer grit, others on spreadsheets, and a few will probably just disappear quietly while no one notices.
So grab a VK, barricade your door, and find out whether your hall would emerge victorious…
Birks Grange Village – 7/10
Birks residents were basically born for this. Cardiac Hill is a survival course disguised as a commute to lectures – so if you can make it up there sober, you can handle a zombie apocalypse. Plus if you’re a catered student you’ll be fuelled by an all you can eat breakfast.
For self-catered Birks residents, you already know how to ration pasta, make meals out of whatever’s left in the fridge, and use a frying pan as both weapon and plate.
To those in Birks, the zombies don’t stand a chance — until someone opens the fire door for a vape break. Then it’s game over.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 8/10 – solid defences, hopeless with fire doors
Physical fitness: 10/10 – cardio hill graduates are basically superheroes
Morale under stress: 7/10 – positive vibes until someone inevitably starts crying in the corridor
Weapon of choice : 9/10 – anything from a kettlebell to a stolen traffic cone (trust me, it’s a canon event)
East Park – 3/10
East Park residents are… ambitious. But let’s be honest, the apocalypse is not their forte. Floor-to-ceiling windows? Gorgeous for TikTok’s, terrible for keeping zombies out.
If the dead rise, East Parkers will be too busy making a TikTok captioned “get ready with me to outrun the zombies (ft. my skincare routine)” to actually survive. They’ll try to organise a strategic plan but end up debating which aesthetic lighting looks best for the livestream.
East Park vs Zombies? Short-lived. Zombies: 1, East Park: 0.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 2/10 – great ideas, zero follow-through
Physical fitness: 3/10 – sprinting for aesthetic, not survival
Morale under stress: 8/10 – panic in style
Social media engagement: 10/10 – someone’s going to go viral
Old Lafrowda – 9/10
Old Laf barely notices the apocalypse. Showers? Worse. Noise? Daily. Zombies? Try surviving a Wednesday night corridor. They’ve already been through conditions far harsher than the end of the world.
Old Laf vs Zombies: Zombies try, but Old Laf just sighs and keeps walking.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 9/10 – calm, calculated chaos
Physical fitness: 7/10 – cardio not required, just endurance
Morale under stress: 8/10 – tired but unbothered
Weapon of choice: 8/10 – frying pans and sheer willpower
New Laf – 4/10
New Laf would absolutely treat the zombie apocalypse like a pres. Chaos, shouting, a DnB fuelled rave and no one’s quite sure who’s in charge. There’s always one self-appointed leader trying to “organise the flat” while everyone else argues over who stole the last bottle of vodka.
When the zombies come, New Laf will be heard from miles away. Zombies: 1, New Laf: 0.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 3/10 – plans abandoned for pres
Physical fitness: 6/10 – running on caffeine and chaos
Morale under stress: 10/10 – too busy laughing to care
Weapon of choice: 5/10 – Vodka bottles and JBL speaker
Holland Hall – 8/10
Holland would absolutely survive, and they’d do it bougie. When the apocalypse hits, these residents will barricade themselves behind glass doors and host a “zombie-chic” brunch.
Organised, slightly pretentious, but undeniably effective. Someone already has a colour-coded survival plan and matching Lululemon gear. Expect arguments about who gets the en-suite panic room. Rationing the rosé won’t be easy — but they’ll pull through on vibes and baked camembert alone.
In the end, the zombies don’t stand a chance — mostly because they can’t afford the rent. Zombies: 0, Holland: 1.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 9/10 – colour-coded survival plans
Physical fitness: 7/10 – daily walks to Pret
Morale under stress: 8/10 – dramatic but functional
Weapon of choice: 6/10 – prosecco bottles and daddy’s credit card
Rowe House – 9/10
Rowe would treat a zombie apocalypse like a group project — complete with assigned roles, detailed rotas, and a Google Sheet tracking each member has completed their daily tasks. Quiet achievers, slightly obsessive, but they get the job done. There’s always one person managing “defence logistics” and another keeping morale high with regular tea break.
Every tin of beans is inventoried, every frying pan logged as a potential weapon.
Zombies don’t stand a chance against this level of admin. Zombies: 0, Rowe: 1.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 10/10 – borderline military precision
Physical fitness: 7/10 – solid stamina
Morale under stress: 6/10 – collapses if spreadsheet deleted
Weapon of choice: 7/10 – kettles, clipboards, and pent-up stress
Moberly – 6/10
Moberly’s secret weapon? No one knows where it is. The zombies won’t find them, and to be honest, neither will you.
Moberly residents are the students who appear in seminars once a term and then vanish again. They’ll survive the apocalypse simply by staying off the grid.
Silent but deadly. Probably have a full bunker set up already.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 10/10 – invisibility is key
Physical fitness: 8/10 – minimal, but efficient
Morale under stress: 9/10 – calm queens and kings
Weapon of choice: 5/10 – doesn’t need any
Duryard — 5/10
Duryard doesn’t notice the apocalypse for at least three days. When your heating’s been broken all term and your kitchen’s been condemned twice, a few zombies aren’t that concerning.
These are the students who could survive off one tin of beans and a lighter for a week. Everyone’s in it together, blending chaos, resilience, and a mild disregard for safety regulations.
When the zombies come, Duryard throws a pres. By morning, no one’s sure who’s undead and who’s just hungover.
Rating breakdown:
Strategy: 4/10 – chaos = plan
Physical fitness: 6/10 – immune to everything by now
Morale under stress: 10/10 – thriving in madness
Weapon of choice: 8/10 – anything can be a weapon if you believe hard enough
