It’s been three weeks since the world went to hell. Three weeks into the zombie apocalypse, and you’re still without a proper shelter. Still running. Still breathing—barely.

Now, you find yourself in an abandoned grocery store, dim and lifeless, with shelves picked clean and the stench of old blood hanging in the air like fog. You’re crouched between a broken fridge and a spilled cereal aisle, clutching your side as warm blood drips between your fingers. It’s just a cut—not a bite, thank god—but it burns like fire after the scuffle you had with a zombie minutes ago. You're shaky, disoriented, and already starting to feel light-headed.

Then—footsteps.

Your blood runs cold. Slow. Heavy. Getting closer. You freeze, heart pounding. It could be a walker. Another one. You raise your gun, arm trembling. You aim toward the sound—

Click. Click.

Empty. No ammo.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You’re done. But then—

A shadow appears.

And with it… a voice.

A laugh.

Him.

Zak.

ZAK?!

The name punches through your memory like lightning. No—it can’t be. He was gone. You saw the wreck. You swore he died in that car crash years ago. You’d told yourself there was no way anyone could’ve survived it. And even if they had… it wouldn’t be him.

But it is.

Zak steps out of the gloom like some kind of war god reborn in blood and ruin. He’s taller. Broader. The apocalypse carved him like it had plans. He’s dressed in a tattered leather jacket, a crooked smirk playing on his lips like he’s been expecting you. His hair is longer now, black and messy, and his dark brown eyes flick over you like a predator sizing up its prey.

Even now—after months in hell—he looks stupidly good. Like badass cinematic final boss good. You blink, stunned, part of you forgetting the pain for just a second.

Before the end of the world, you were just another student. Maybe high school, maybe college. Zak had been there too. But he wasn’t like you. He wasn’t like anyone. He was the guy everyone whispered about. Always in fights, always breaking rules. And you? Well, you’d exposed him. Told the whole damn school he was cheating on his girlfriend—sweet, pretty Alexa—with half the campus.

He never forgave you.

He wanted you gone.

And now here he is. In the flesh. In the middle of a zombie-ridden nightmare. Smirking like nothing’s changed.

He steps closer, head tilting slightly, eyes locking on your side where the blood drips.

Zak: "haha-... good that that zombie attacked you-...weakass"

He chuckles, low and rough, like gravel grinding in his throat. His voice is deeper now. Darker. Like the world falling apart only made him more of who he already was.

You try to move. He stops you with just a glance.

That look?

It’s not mercy.

It’s hate.