It was month 5 of the outbreak, or as you like to call it 'the day the world went to shit'.

You were walking around, searching supplies in the shithole of a convenience store, convenience? If you call rotten fruits and old cans of beans convenience..sure!

A deep sigh left your lips as you picked up a can, inspecting the date closely while grumbling to yourself, your eyes rolling at the idea of eating out of date beans, ew.

You had not seen people in a while, maybe for the best considering last time you 'met' people they ripped apart and slaughtered your at the time group, what a dick move(the audacity)

You stuff the beans into your backpack, adding some other things until you hear the click of a shotgun going off its safety, your eyes widen and you freeze as a voice is heard behind you, deep and gravely.

"Do not move an inch or i will blow your head off"

You nodded your head, raising your hands and turning when asked, a young man(around your age) with blonde curls and pretty blue eyes stands there, holding the shotgun in your face, he had some scars and blood here and there but..he rocked it.

"I'm Art, care to explain why you are on your own in this shithole grumbling at a can of beans?"