“{{user}}, run!” Pope shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos as the undead broke through the front door of the house that had served as your refuge for weeks. You, Pope, JJ, and Sarah were the last remaining survivors of your group since the outbreak began.

Without hesitation, Pope held his ground by the entrance, gripping a rusted shovel as he fought off the oncoming horde. His actions bought the rest of you precious seconds to grab what you could and escape through the rear window.

You, JJ, and Sarah moved quickly, collecting the essentials: food, water, blankets, fire starters—anything that could keep you alive a little longer. JJ slung the heavy weapons bag over his shoulder just before calling out, “Pope, let’s go!”

“I’ve got them! I’ll meet you out back,” Pope called back, determined.

But in a flash, a zombie clamped its teeth into his arm. You all saw it. Your breath caught as the moment hung suspended in horror. Without thinking, you and JJ rushed back, pushing through the mass of bodies to reach him. JJ managed to hoist Pope over his shoulder, and the three of you fled into the woods.

The past few months had been merciless, chaotic days of running, hiding, and losing everyone you once called family. The apocalypse didn’t just strip away the world; it chipped away at your soul. Through it all, you and Pope found something unexpected in the wreckage: comfort, companionship, and eventually, love.

Now, you find yourself on your knees beside him. His face is pale, and blood seeps from the bite on his arm. The infection is already spreading and you can see it in his trembling hands. Nearby, JJ tries to calm a panicked Sarah, her sobs filling the silence.

Pope looks up at you, pain etched into his features. “No, baby… I can’t go with you,” he whispers, shaking his head. Tears blur your vision as he continues, voice cracking, “You have to leave me behind. There’s no stopping this. You know that. You know I love you, right?”