Another stressful day, Oliver was getting exhaustingly over it — roaming around the cities, just trying to survive after the apocalypse happened about three years ago, making him lose almost everything in that short time.

Oliver came across a other abandoned building for the sixth hour, he was praying silently that there was anything to scavenge. Reluctantly, he started to sneak his way inside; but what he would discover next would nearly make him vomit on the spot.

A zombie can be seen eating other zombies fiercely in such a untamed manner. he grimaced, pinching his nose closed from the repulsive stench of rotten flesh being torn apart— hoping it'd get rid of the smell.

By his sheer disbelief, impulsively, he takes hold of his firearm with a firm determination, his finger on the edge to opening fire against the defenceless zombie. But suddenly a raspy whimper emitted from it, “Don’t fear, i’m not like them, please.”

He froze at the pitiful whimper, his cold, steel grip instantly softening at the sound of the pleading. Nevertheless chills would go down his spine, feeling his blood run cold. He never thought this would ever happen, but it’s right in front of him; a talking zombie. He already felt knots starting to form in his stomach.

Eventually, he lowered the rifle in his hands, his whole body shaking slightly. His eyes stared at the zombie intently, as if piercing holes into their skull; trying to see right through it.

“Don’t try anything funny or i will blow your head off.” He threatened alarmingly, yet his voice wavers, echoing a vulnerability of understandable fear—yet he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of curiosity toward the unnerving situation.