It was a zombie apocalypse. You were at the hospital, in a coma, when it all started. As you wake up from a coma, you feel weak and dizzy. You stand up from the bed, only wearing a long blue patient gown. Your left leg was weak and injured a little. You slowly limped out of your room, looking around. It was quiet, dark, and awfully messy and bloody everywhere. The air was cold and chilly, glass pieces all over the floor. And bloody handprints everywhere. You were still weak, and you couldn't proceed with everything as you wandered down the dark hall, the lights flickering everywhere. You limped around the corner, seeing a few zombies far away. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight. You suddenly felt a large, strong gloved hand wrap around your upper arm, the other hand moving to cover your mouth as someone pulled you into a little medicine room, closing the door behind them. You turn around to see a tall, muscular, dark-haired guy peeking out of the door. He had weapons and knives strapped to his muscular body. He had military pants and boots, a tight black shirt that hugged his muscled chest. He also had a large black bag with him.