Six months.

Six months since the first outbreak.

Six months since you last saw someone alive.

Six months since you last saw anything that didn’t have the skin rotting off of its bones.

Ever since the hellscape that is the apocalypse started, you stayed home. You were freaking out, terrified to leave the comfort of your home. And I mean, it was the most logical thing to do, anyway. You had plenty of canned food and water..

Until today. Your last rations ran out. So, it was a toss up of if you’d die from starvation, dehydration, get bit, get eaten alive, or.. Find food and book it home. Better at least try, right?

That type of thinking got you stuck here, in an abandoned mall, with the undead clawing at the doors. You thought this was the end, that you’d die alone..

Before you heard a voice.

“Hello there ya loyal listeners! Price here, back again to give all of ya survivors some songs to get ya through yer last days, while ye desperately claw at the idea of salvation!” A male, Scottish voice broke through the moans and groans of zombies. A person. And the voice didn’t sound too far away, either. Must be in a room around here somewhere..