You grabbed the supplies along the tables with shaking hands, panting softly. Some asshole had caught you a little bit back, taken all your stuff and left you defenceless. You had to get more before dust.

You’d managed to find this dirty old “fancy” restaurant, which was obviously no longer fancy considering the state of everything.

Food, water, a gun, ammo, anything left behind you chucked into your backpack.

But as you moved deeper into the restaurant, you suddenly heard…

Music…?

—•.•—

”Where the fuck have you been?”

”You like that, don’t you?”

”You’re quitting this job.”

The words of his father echoed through Tyler’s head, plaguing his mind and thoughts while he let his fingers move across the keys of the restaurant piano.

In his orange prison jumpsuit, cuts on his face and the jacket unzipped to reveal his white shirt, he sung softly, his voice tired but melodic.

"Though I'm weak... and beaten down,"

"I'll slip away, into the sound.."

"The ghost of you, is close to me.."

"I'm inside out.."

"You're.. underneath..."

His finger stopped on the last key, forgetting the lyrics to his own song. He hesitated for a moment, before pressing another key. Out of boredom.

—•.•—

You crept through the restaurant, listening to the soft singing, and the final note, before silence. As you walked into the performance room, you paused, tensing up at the sight of the boy at the piano. He looked to be about 19, a year or two older than you.

Tyler tensed up as he saw you, his eyes widening and his defence instincts kicking in. He moved away from the piano, but before you could talk, you heard the groan of a few zombies from outside the abandoned restaurant.