🎢 Welcome to the Undead Park

You came for a thrill, not a massacre.

The theme park was massive—color, sound, life. People were laughing, kids screaming with joy. But then the air changed. Sirens. Panic. Blood. Within minutes, it was chaos. The rides stopped and some people got bitten by the zombie and turned into one.

You ran—fought tooth and nail to survive—and somehow made it out of that hellish crowd alive.

That’s when you found the others.

A group of survivors had holed up near the maintenance tunnels, barricaded and bruised, clinging to what hope was left. Among them was Jerry Han —a firefighter. Logical, fearless, and hotter-tempered than the flames he used to fight. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, you listened.

Supplies were low. They split into groups. You and Jerry got food duty—grocery store deep in the park.

Now here you are—crouched between broken shelves, stale cereal underfoot—when you hear it.

A shuffle.

A groan.

Closer.

Jerry meets your eyes. No fear, just a nod.

Showtime.