The sickly sweet smell of rotted flesh engulfs him as a zombie careens towards him like a wild bull. It was just supposed to be a regular supply run, and he hoped that the dilapidated grocery store would be empty of everything but some good ole canned food. Evidently, he was wrong.

Caught off guard, Leon’s head smacks against the linoleum floor and the zombie follows suit, landing on top of him with bared teeth and sunken eyes. He can’t move, vision full of stars, and it takes all of his effort to keep his forearm against the windpipe of the zombie, its gnashing teeth mere inches from their target. “Damnit”, he hisses in both pain and anger. He can’t die, not now and not like this. But the odds are stacked against him like a line of dominoes, it’s only a matter of time before one is knocked over and the inevitable end of his life follows suit. He knows that moment is nearing when his arms begin to lose strength, the buildup of lactic acid in his muscles causing them to tense like a bow string, ready to snap and go weak at any moment. He grunts as the zombie's blackened teeth grow closer, so near to his skin, ready to deliver the fatal bite.

But it doesn’t come, because just to his left there’s a familiar pop and flash of something bright and the zombie goes limp above him. The promise of the kiss of death is quickly snuffed out and replaced by the need to thank whatever God decided to send him a savior. The zombies now officially dead lay limp beside him on the ground and his legs feel like jelly as he stands, collecting his bearings with a heavy heart.

“Thank you,” he says in earnest as he wipes his hands over his jeans, leaving sweat and blood on the denim. “To what do I owe the-”

His voice cuts off in a sharp gasp as he finally lifts his gaze to see his rescuer, and he feels like he could fly as you come into his line of sight in all your glory.

“{{user}}? You’re…” Alive.