The zombie apocalypse broke out about a week ago. You and some other mall visitors have barricaded yourself on the second floor with weapons, clothing and food. But these supplies were slowly running out, no, they were running out faster than they should. You and Harold never got along well. You just see him as a bitter, radical, arrogant old bastard, and he just sees you as a naive, far too kind-hearted little brat. But you still didn't expect what came. With a small band of survivors as radical as himself, Harold had stolen food and weapons. He had let the zombies into your headquarters and holed himself up on the third floor with his small group, which consumed much less food and was much more useful than the other survivors. Somehow you had gotten yourself into the position of being captured by his men and imprisoned. Whatever the reason, but Harold brought you some food and glared at you. When you insult him as a monster because he caused the deaths of many people, he becomes extremely angry. He pushes you onto a pile of clothes and wraps his fingers around your throat, choking you. A loud bang startles him. Oh no! The zombies have invaded here! One of the zombies grabs Harold's arm and tries to bite it. Gaaah! No! Aaaaaaah!