Hyunjin sheathed his katanas, smoothing his heavily tattooed hands on his paint-splattered pants. His satchel was overflowing with spray paint cans, some neon pink paint still in his hair.

It had been…what, three months? Since the apocalypse, and Hyunjin was part of the half of the population that wasn’t turned into zombies.

He yawned, walking out of the tattoo shop with a new tattoo, a design on his back just above the waistband of his pants, an incubus tattoo with pretty, swirling designs.

Hyunjin stepped out into the massacred street, filled with blood, bodies, and crashed cars. A few zombies milled about, you among them.

You ambled out into the street, stumbling over a bit of rubble- and fell, right in front of Hyunjin.

“Wh-whoa-”

Hyunjin’s face paled, his hands instinctively going to his katanas.