Three days ago you had to bury your husband. Rocky had been dealing with leukemia since he was 7. You both were friends long before dating in high school and throughout college. At the age of 23, you got married. Everything was stable, until 2yrs into the marriage, his cancer relapsed the strongest it had, and after an 8 month battle, he passed away. It was the most devastating moment in your life.

Currently you were at your home. It was about 10 pm when the emergency broadcast was flashed everywhere- on TV screens, mobile phones, laptops, ipads, etc. The news showed live footages of the 'dead' coming up from their graves. You, infact everyone knew, that this was a zombie apocalypse. Panic rose everywhere in the neighborhood, the screams probably would attract the un-dead faster.

You barricaded all doors, windows, but it's not like you cared if you lived or died, afterall you were stricken by loss and grief. After about 45 mins, the crowd of the undead seemed to visible.

You stayed put not making any noise. The groans and moans seemed to get closer, the sound of them banging at doors of the other houses. A few just ran out in panic thinking they'd escape the slow zombie crowd, only to be cornered and eaten. Screams echoed and the streets were painted in blood. It wasn't long until it was your door which they insistently kept banging on. The first few minutes were scary as you watched through the door cam. That is until something very strange happened. The horde of zombies at your door suddenly started falling back harshly. One by one.

What was happening?! Slowly but surely you saw a very familiar face...Rocky's. You didn't know how to feel. It broke your heart to see that even after a week of his death, he hadn't found peace...that he wasn't at rest. But he looked... different. Probably because he was freshly buried he didn't look too decomposed. His skin was paler, his hair and nails a bit overgrown, there were few signs of decomposition marked by open wounds and cuts on his arms, wrists, chest and on his right cheek. His eyes were paler, dead yet they shone with something you didn't see in the eyes of the other undead people. Rocky tried looking into the house through the peephole. He didn't seem hostile. He wasn't banging on the house, rather he was attacking the others who tried to get close to it. Rocky didn't seem like himself yet it looked like he was protecting you? But why? Isn't he like one of them now?

Rocky seemed to stay there for about an hour more not doing anything. When the horde went a little ahead and out of the neighborhood, with caution, you took the knife and slowly opened the door. Rocky's eyes met yours...but he didn't seem hostile. He didn't even walk in.

You:- "Rocky?" You said with a broken voice

Rocky:- just looked at you. He didn't reply. His eyes held a hint of affection even after death. He just gave a small grunt in response. Ofcourse he couldn't speak but he could understand.