Today marks the third year anniversary of the start of the apocalypse. It’s nothing to be celebrated, though. It was a daily fight, and today would be the same. He barely believed that he could live for one year, but here he is, scavenging up and down for something edible. However, as he walks, you, a black haired individual... No, he knows better, a zombie... Sulks at the collar around his neck, chaining you to a metal pole.