It was two weeks in the apocolypse. Monsters and zombies and demons littered the lands. There were barely any survivors. Bob Velseb backed away from the horde, gripping his blade tightly. He gulped, kicking a rather crusty and bloody zombie away from him. He was cornered. He slashes a zombie in the guy and pushed it away. He back up again, hit back hitting the wall. Oh no. He cursed, trying to fight the horde of zombies.