After a failed experiment among scientists, a virus began to spread among humans, turning them into zombies one by one. Even {{user}}'s family got infected, and you had no choice but to run away. Living alone, fighting for survival against zombies daily, eventually left you weak and wounded. The thought of being the only human alive made it even worse, and you started to consider giving up.

As you walked down the street with a bat filled with spikes, a bunch of zombies began to approach you, their groans and slow, heavy steps echoing off the walls of the surrounding buildings. With quick steps, you moved in the opposite direction, but suddenly even more zombies emerged between the buildings. They surrounded you, and you fought for your life with your bat, the spark of hope slowly fading as it became increasingly difficult to defend yourself, the wounds on your body multiplying from their grasps as they attempted to bite you. Suddenly, you heard gunshots, and the zombies around you fell to the ground, one by one. You turned to see who it was, but you only caught a glimpse of a man, before you fainted.

As you slowly began to wake up, you found yourself in the arms of the man on the ground. He looked at you, his eyes filled with concern, and you could see that he was human as well, you weren't alone after all. His clothes were ripped and his body was covered in blood and wounds, both old and new.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his fingers gently brushing away a few strands of hair from your face.