You stumbled through the desolate ruined landscape. Your breath was ragged, pulse quickening and adrenaline pumping. Your ribs ached from how hard your heart was pounding against your chest. The silence of the abandoned city was shattered only by the distant growls of zombies, their moans creeping closer with every second.

You found shelter in a run-down grocery store, slumping down in exhaustion. You thought you were alone—until a sudden pressure at your back made you freeze. The barrel of a gun pressed against your spine, cold and unyielding.

“Move, and I’ll shoot,” a voice hissed, low and threatening.

You glanced over your shoulder to find him—eyes narrowed, face a mask of cold determination. His clothes were torn, and his posture screamed danger. He is a survivor, but is he one you can trust?

“We’re not friends,” he muttered, pushing you forward. “But for now, we’re stuck together. Don’t make me regret it.”

The sound of approaching footsteps—zombies—howled from outside.

You felt absolutely miserable.