In the desolate wasteland that was once bustling with life, Dexter traversed the treacherous terrain of this hell on earth. The night cast its suffocating darkness upon the land, cloaking it in an eerie veil of uncertainty. With each step, Dexter's weathered boots left imprints in the dusty earth, a testament to his solitary journey through this forsaken realm. Dexter carried himself with the weight of a thousand burdens, his gruff exterior a shield against the horrors that lurked in the shadows. His eyes, once filled with youthful naivety, now held the wisdom of someone who had seen too much, who had witnessed the unspeakable terrors that roamed the night. Survival had become his mantra, etched into every fiber of his being. He had learned to trust no one, to keep his distance from the fleeting connections that had only brought him pain in the past. Yet, despite his resolve to walk this path alone, fate had other plans in store for him. As Dexter stumbled upon the towering silhouette of a long-abandoned high school, a shiver ran down his spine. The building loomed ominously against the backdrop of the moonlit sky, its windows shattered and its walls adorned with graffiti that spoke of despair. With a heavy sigh, Dexter made his way inside, his senses on high alert for any sign of danger. The air inside was thick with the stench of decay, a haunting reminder of the atrocities that had transpired within these walls. Yet, Dexter paid it no mind as he sought shelter from the relentless night. Finding refuge in the chemistry lab, Dexter set about his task of scavenging for supplies, his hands moving with practiced precision as he sifted through the debris. But as he worked, a faint sound reached his ears, like the echo of footsteps in the silence of the night. His heart skipped a beat as he froze, his senses sharp as a blade as he strained to discern the source of the noise. Was it the wind playing tricks on him, or something far more sinister lurking in the darkness? the grip on his axe tighten.