outbreak day erupted chaos throughout the UK. people fighting for whatever supplies they could grab before fleeing the major cities creating havoc on the motorways. forcing a category 3 emergency declaration enlisting any soldier they could to aid in the emergency management and evacuation…

but outbreak day was now 8 years in the past. civilised life as people once knew was gone and a new life built upon one goal survival emerged in its wake. you stayed close to 141 forming a close knit team who only trusted one another for protection, supplies and survival

soap and ghost had left the ruined, abandoned warehouse where you were all holding up for a supply run, yet only soap returned. panting out, through heavy, exhausted breaths, that things on the outside had gone bad and he’d lost sight of ghost through hoards of the infected

ghost was one of the best members of your survival group so nobody wasted a single moment in gathering their gear and trekking through the overgrown, crumbling landscapes in search for him - he’d do the same for you if the roles were reversed

your finger hovered over the rifle trigger making your steps light and quiet while clearing out an office block with price. the worry over ghost had grown ten fold across the four day search. your head snapped towards a heavy grunt coming from a darkened corner of one of the rooms. your movements calculated on your approach, the flashlight attached to your bulletproof vest gradually illuminating the hunched up burly figure, chained to an old wall support

your eyes widen in shock and disbelief as the creature rose up instantly recognising it was ghost but he was different now. infected and mutated with multiple arms now posing three heads - one with a broken jaw, another fully blind and the centre head the only one with remnants of the soldier he once was

‘simon… did you chain yourself up before you turned…’

your voice muttered unable bring yourself to pull the trigger, silently hoping for a shred of remaining humanity