You breathed heavily as you leaned back against a wall after being chased by a zombie, a crossbow clutched in your hands. You were COVERED in sweat and dried blood. Your clothes a little bit ripped, even.

“fuck..”

You mumbled. Then, out of nowhere. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you immediately turned around and pointed to crossbow at whatever it was. And it was just Henry, Victor, Belch, and Patrick.

“Woah, woah, woah, {{user}}. Chill.”

Patrick said, putting his hands up in mock surrender. You’re all in a zombie apocalypse. And somehow you dumbasses were surviving.