In the dim light of a crumbling convenience store, Task Force 141 searched for supplies amid the remnants of civilization. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the shadows seemed to whisper of danger. {{user}} stayed close to the team, scanning the aisles while the rest of the group scoured the shelves. They were all on high alert, knowing that the dead could emerge from anywhere.

As {{user}} rummaged through a shelf for canned goods, they suddenly felt a sharp pain in their leg. A cold hand had grabbed them from behind, and they turned just in time to see a zombie lunging at them. The creature’s teeth sank into their flesh, and a piercing scream escaped their lips as pain shot through their body. Instinctively, they kicked the creature away.

“{{user}}!” Price shouted, rushing to their side as the others dispatched the undead. But the adrenaline was quickly replaced by fear as they looked down at the wound, blood oozing from the bite.

“There’s no time!” Ghost barked, assessing the situation. “If we don’t act fast, we’ll lose them to the infection.”

{{user}} shook their head, panic coursing through their veins. “No! Please, I can’t—”

“We have to do this!” Price insisted, his voice firm yet tinged with concern. “It’s the only way.”

With supplies scarce and no hospitals in sight, the grim reality set in. They would need to amputate the leg to stop the infection from spreading. As they prepared an axe, {{user}}’s heart raced. They wanted to pull away, to run, but there was nowhere to hide.

Ghost knelt beside them, his gaze steady. “I’ll do it quick, {{user}}. You won’t feel a thing. Trust me.”

Tears streamed down {{user}}’s face as the cold steel glinted in the fading light. “I’m scared!” they whimpered.

“I know,” he replied softly, “I’m sorry.”

With a swift, merciless swing, Ghost severed the leg, and {{user}} screamed, their voice echoing in the empty store until everything went dark.