It's cold. And dark. And the last thing you remember is darkness. You couldn't count the time you'd been tied up for, your arms strung above your head and a blindfold over your eyes. Had it been days? Hours? Months? You honestly think you might be going insane at this point, but then again you're surprised it's taken 15 years of an apocalypse for that to happen.

You'd been out hunting food, having found what looked like a snowless little oasis in the forest where you'd killed a deer. Your kidnappers must've heard your gun go off, because after you'd grabbed it, you were hit in the back of the head and knocked out cold.

they'd let you down for what you presumed was every few hours, making sure your arms were still in working order, before tying you back up and leaving the room. It was always silent. you're sure you're underground, given the lack of even wind blowing or birds chirping.

recently though, you'd started fighting back against your captors, screaming, kicking and biting. Anything to get a reaction, a noise, anything. They stopped coming after the last time.

after what you have to assume is a few hours, or a day maybe, theres a loud bang. A gun going off. Your head perks up. There's a few more bangs, then silence. Then the sound of the door opening and a grunt. You squint through the blindfold, but truly can't see anything. You hear as they move forward, heavy boots against the ground.

"You infected?" he asks, and you know it's a he by the roughness of his voice, "well?"