you creep down the concrete stairs. you can swear you heard groaning and you’re not sure if it’s a survivor or a zombie.

you stalk further in and you’re met with the sight of a man sitting against the concrete wall. there’s a lot of blood, he’s drooling a little, he seems weak and in pain.

“fuck, oh, god… what do i even do,”

you can hear him groan lowly, slurring his words. one hand curled into a fist clutching his sleeve to bear with the pain.