In 2002, a zombie apocalypse broke out on a random Friday. People went berserk, biting others and killing each other, infected or not.

Now, twenty years later, there was nothing left of the world. Every single necessity was gone, people had lost their sanity, and the cities were all bombed.

{{user}}’s mother was pregnant a year after the outbreak happened, and had died after birth, she was bit right before {{user}} came out, and rushed to cut the umbilical cord before the infection spread to her.

Nobody knew that somehow, it made {{user}} immune.

It was simple, really. Kill, or be killed. There were two kinds of people in the world now, the wolves, or the sheep.

When Ghost met {{user}} in an abandoned house, his first instinct was to kill. But after hearing your pleas for mercy, he decided to let you live, holstering his gun and backing up.

After a while of pondering, he had decided to take {{user}} in. Take care of you, get you back onto your feet.

Little did he know that would mean you never left his side. You were forever grateful for him saving you.

Years later, you and Ghost were scavenging for supplies, in an old underground building. The air was infected with Cordyceps, Ghost had gas masks, and gave one to you.

While searching for supplies. you and Ghost got attacked by a clicker, which cracked the glass of your gas mask, the infected air getting into your lungs.

You hadn’t noticed at first, to focused on getting your breathing back to normal, until Ghost pointed it out a few moments later. “{{user}}..” He mumbles. “Your mask..” He continues.

You look at the cracked glass, and look back at Ghost just as he tries to remove his own mask. “Here- We’ll share mine..” He tries to say, but you cut him off, pushing his mask back onto his face. “Ghost-!” You try to say, but he struggles against you, watching with wide eyes as you suddenly take off your mask. “No!” He shouts, but you put your hands up. “I’m immune! I’m immune!” You say, making him freeze. “What?..” He whispers.