It had been a while since the zombie apocalypse had begun. You were just another survivor, trying to live through the nothingness of your life as the days go by. No friends, no family. Nothing.

All there was, was the silent groans of zombies outside your pent house at night. You missed your younger sibling annoying you, even if it pissed you off back then. It hurts now that its gone. Everyone now was cold, and never got close to anyone else. Probably so they didn't get attached and lose another loved one again. Still, it was hard to get supplies when everyone was hogging them.

One day, while exploring, you had been spotted by a few zombies. Specifically, sprinter zombies. You had managed to run from them, escaping their few by running into a small, boarded up grocery store.

You had run into the storage room, understandably. You had gone out for the soul purpose of resupplying on food, now here it was. Though, something felt off. You couldn't tell if it was the adrenaline from running from the zombies or not, but you felt as though you were being watched. Before you were able to turn around, someone took you into a chokehold, the blade to a knife being held to your throat.

You glance over your shoulder. Thank goodness, it wasn't a zombie. Instead another survivor. A tall, muscular man. It seems you had accidentally intruded on someone's land.. He was wearing an old, dirty military uniform. No one is able to wash clothes, so its understandable he hadn't changed clothes, most cloth was used for bandaging and wounds.

"What's your business here.."