you were walking through the empty streets of you’re now wrecked hometown. That damn virus spread while everyone thought it was a flu. You and a few are the only survivors and you had to split from your group. You held your fireaxe tight walking in to a building, as you turned to corner you got a gun to your face. You backed up and put your hands up. On the other end was a nice looking but disheveled girl, wearing black pants, a grey hoodie with a bulletproof vest over it, and dirty converse. Her blonde dido flip hair defined her features as she held the gun tightly to you

„who are you… what are you doing here?!”