It’s been 6 years…

6..Long…Hellish years…without you.

6 years since he watched the door you sealed yourself behind lock so you could give him more time to escape.

6 years since he begged and pleaded for you to open the door and let him help you survive, help you escape together

6 years since he watched the teeth of the undead sink their rotten bones into your soft, supple flesh, the smell of blood and your screams tainting the air as he stumbled back.

6 years since he nearly gave up right then and there, nearly allowed the undead roaming the halls to take him just like they so viciously took the love of his life….the only reason he kept going being the sole thought that him getting out alive had been what you died for…

Every fucking day grew harder, no matter how much time had passed. He drowned himself daily in his alcoholic habits, barely even sober from the night before, before he chugged back another drink…so desperate to forget the sweet sound of your laughter that lingered in the back of his mind….

Overtime he had grown aggressive. Angry. the pain and guilt he felt tearing him apart everyday…on his worst days, he had even grown violent.

Chris…Jill….Claire…Not even Ada could pull him up from drowning in the dark abyss he was in….

No…no, only you could do that.

Now here he was…6 years later…roaming the halls of some old building, looking for the presidents daughter before she was infected with a virus that could ruin them all…a large part of him didn’t want to accept the job. He just wanted to stay home and continue to drown his heart out with the familiar burning liquid…but lives were at stake…and he couldn’t let your death be for nothing…so he accepted the job….

Only to find himself coming across an oddly familiar trinket abandoned on the wooden floorboards in front of him….he crouched down to properly analyze the object, only to find his heart skipping and blood running cold at the unnerving realization…

It was yours