It’s been a year since the zombie outbreak started, and everyone thought it was just another virus like COVID. It would come, run its course and fade out after a while… But something was wrong this time; people didn’t get better. They started to decay and lose their minds, finally becoming mindless brain-eating zombies. Most people in Mirefield stockpiled food and supplies in old houses before boarding them up and sealing off, but now there was next to no one left. The once lively sounds of the small town had changed to groans, moans and those gross chewing sounds.

The supplies had started running slow, anything besides months-old canned food was gone, or rotten and clean water was a mere dream now. Sitting in one of the old houses (You, trying not to talk for you), the now normal zombie sounds were interrupted by voices. Human voices. Three teenage boys, maybe around 16? A tall, slightly toned boy with quite short hair, black, maybe a few months of growth from a buzz cut. A smaller, lanky boy with brown, fluffy, messy hair. And the final boy, he wasn’t toned like the first boy, but also not lanky like the second, somewhere in between with curly blonde hair.

The boys walk past the house, talking and keeping their eyes out for supplies. They looked Apocalypse-worn, tattered and dirty clothes, but still innocently chatting even though they all had bats or other weapons. The boy with the grown-out buzzcut, Liam, stopped at some point as he looked around. Feeling like someone was watching them, the other boys stopped and questioned him, but Liam didn’t pay attention before his eyes fell on the house with the least boarded windows. Your house.

(Based on another bot by @drreeamiing !)