The house was only one floor if you didn’t count the musty cellar beneath it. It was a simple two bedroom home that housed a loving family of three, at least it used to, as the pictures scattered throughout the crumbling place displayed behind cracked glass and broken frames. Yes, a loving family indeed — one which died in the same place, at the same time, twice. I know. I know. It’s impossible, right? Just let me explain. Okay? Picture this.
     Alright, so the little tike was making his way home from school, not bothering in the slightest to remove the shoes from his feet that dragged upon the floor. He’d simply allowed the strap of the bag that hung over his shoulder to drop to the floor with a brief thud while his body staggered further into the front entrance. Soon after that, his mother hears his presence and emerges from the kitchen to greet her son — who then digs his fingers relentlessly into his mother’s abdomen while his crooked teeth sank into the flesh of her neck when she hunched over in pain, but not before he let out a blood-curdling screech before his attack.
     Then, of course, the screech from the young boy and the scream from his mother lured the father into the picture, who emerged from outside with the door closing behind him. Only when he lifted his head did he witness the bloody horror in front of him; his son ripping open and feasting on his mother who by now was silenced by the cruelest of fates. The next thing he’d seen stopped his heart entirely while his body froze in fear. His son’s near lifeless face staring at him with bubbling crimson trickling from his mouth. For a brief moment, it would feel like time froze as the two stared at each other, though that frozen moment was abruptly cut short as his son had lunged himself in the father’s direction, and thus, the father met the same unfortunate fate as his wife.
     Then well, how they died a second time is much more simple than the first. I killed them. A good stab to the head was all it took of course for these guys. Now, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Wen Junhui, killing people is wrong!’ or something along the lines of that, but you know, they aren’t exactly people anymore. They’re not living nor are they dead. They’re somewhere in between, where their minds are programmed to do one thing and one thing only. Eat. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as it was alive, or was once alive anyway. So it’s either their non-existent, flesh-hungry lives who do nothing but kill the living, or mine, and quite frankly, I prefer the latter of the two options. There’s no way in hell I’m giving up my life by dying in the hands of those killing machines.
     However, just the thought of being in the same house as a few of those beasts is already unsettling enough, alive or not, but for the most part, I’m safe. For now at least. Though, if I had a choice, I’d much rather be caught with these things instead of what’s roaming outside now. These guys, well... They’re the outcome of what happened before those guys outside showed up. These guys are the reason those things outside exist. Long story short, when these guys started showing up due to some unknown virus spreading from human to human due to some sort of illness all across the world, the leaders of North Korea and the United States decided to send off their nuclear weapons in hopes they'll destroy the undead monsters. Instead, however, the radioactivity that washed over the planet introduced a whole new level of terror upon Earth. What the blast from the explosions didn't kill, living and undead, these new beasts took care of.  Somehow, the virus within the undead mixed with the radioactivity that lingered within the air and created a new beast. Unlike these things here, your typical zombie I suppose, you can’t mistake the others for a possible human in the distance, with their long, twisted limbs that resemble roots and long fingers dedicated to scratching and digging into flesh to transfer the radioactive virus combination into unsuspecting survivors. Surviving one of them is unknown, but highly unlikely, as all I’ve seen is death upon death of people I once knew.
     Which leads up to why I’m here alone, searching through the cellar cupboards left and right and stuffing any sort of surviving food I can find within the tattered bag I carried on my shoulders, but it was the best I could find. By the end of my scavenging throughout the cellar, I’d gathered a few cans of surviving nonperishable foods, and at that point I could feel the exhaustion crashing harshly over my body, however, I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping just yet, as I wanted to cover the only exit for additional protection and safety before I decided to do anything, and the wooden shelves would suffice for a decent blockade to keep those monsters from getting me through the night.
     It took much longer than I’d anticipated wiggling and sliding the heavy shelf in front the open doorway, though my exhaustion certainly didn’t help the slightest. By the time I’d finished, I’d sat myself down on the  makeshift bed I'd scraped together with the remaining energy I had and cracked open a can of beans to eat, and a sigh of relief left me at the taste of actual food, though it still wasn't like how it used to be. This is life now and we’ve got to get used to no longer having the luxuries we use to have. Now we eat and are thankful for whatever we may find — afraid it may make us sick, however — all while trying to find somewhere safe to sleep for the night. All in all, we live in complete and utter fear that any second may potentially be our last.
     It was easier tonight for me to fall asleep though. The comforts of a somewhat decent bed brought back memories of before the outburst of the living dead, and I merely stared up at the ceiling as I lost myself deep within my thoughts and memories, right up until I found myself dozing off at last. The dream I had certainly wasn’t different than one anyone else would have due to the unfortunate events that had taken place over the past year. A dream of being chased by those monsters, running as fast as I possibly could from them to try and save my life, and in this particular dream, I wasn't alone. Two blurry figures ran with me, occasionally passing me or falling behind. We’d all pushed our legs beyond their limits, but stopping even for a second would result in death, and I wasn’t ready to meet him face to face.
     The next thing I knew, I was jolting upright with my head in my hands, drenched in layers of thick sweat while my chest heaved deep, heavy breaths. These damned dreams. Those things tore me apart. They sank their crooked teeth into my skin while their fingers worked at digging into my body relentlessly, tearing me open within seconds of having me within their grasp. I can still hear the screeching they'd made so loudly around me as they fed on my flesh, but compared to them, my screaming in pain was all I could hear ringing within my ears. It got to the point where I have to frantically pat down my entire body to convince myself that it was merely a dream, no matter how real it felt, and for that brief moment, I felt alright. Then came the sound of that screeching in the distance, and within seconds, my attention was snatched and locked on the blockade in front of the exit, eyes wide and trembling as my breathing fell heavy once again. As if on cue, my body sprang out from beneath the tattered covers to snatch up my bag, tossing it over my shoulders while my feet immediately took me to the exit to carefully maneuver the shelf over just enough for me to slip through, and I was fortunate for being a rather skinny guy, as I didn't need to push the shelf too far and make too much noise. As a precaution, I'd slowly leaned my head out just enough to scan the surrounding area, and once I noticed the crumbled foundation of the house was clear, I hesitantly stepped into the rubble, face wincing in fear that the subtle crunching beneath my feet would give my position away. My body was in full alert as I carefully hurried over the rubble on light feet, and that's when I saw them. In the distance, straight ahead of me and in the direction I'd originally intended on traveling, possibly three or four collapsed houses down the deserted road were bodies kneeling to feast on something, or quite possibly someone, not that it mattered to me. It gave me the opportunity to escape from them so much easier. With those monsters distracted, I took the grand opportunity to flee in the opposite direction, taking the same path I'd traveled the previous day as I wanted to put as much distance between me and them as humanly possible. 
     As much as I wanted to venture further in the other direction, I didn't want to chance straying too close to the beasts in fear they'd hear me trying to scramble through the debris of the fallen houses, nor did I want to stay in the cellar either, as the best strategy is to put as much distance between them and yourself in hopes that you'll be able to survive another day. It's either you or them, and I happen to choose me, even if there's a chance that someone else is in trouble. I'd prefer not to risk putting my own life in danger to save someone who would probably just die anyway. It's probably inhuman and selfish of me to do such a thing, but only the strongest survive out here. Which is why I prefer to travel alone., so there's no possible way of having anyone slow me down in any way. Stamina is key to surviving these things, and although they don't get winded, having enough stamina to run and find someplace to hide from their sight is your best chance to stay alive. Not to mention that due to the intense change of weather patterns, the landscape consists of one of four things: sand, snow, mud or a flooded disaster.
     Currently, it was roughly about the middle of summer, which means the scorching heat is at its peak, and there's nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. Perhaps there was the occasional breeze, but typically if there was any wind at all, it was strong and stirring up an intense sandstorm. I honestly wouldn't even be surprised if there was an all-out drought from such high temperatures taking over, and with hardly any shade, it was nothing but trouble to be walking over the endless sand dunes, which unfortunately was what I was doing at this very moment. The closer to town you are, the more dunes that are present, but on a more positive note, I got some decent sleep for once, and my stamina was partially recharged. However, the downside to my current situation was the fact that I'd run out of clean water the day before, and as much as I hoped the cellar may have had some, I was prepared for disappointment, and because of how harshly the sun was beating down on my thin frame, I could certainly feel myself losing more hydration than I was taking in. My mouth was dry, lips were cracked, and there was this throbbing headache that hadn't gone away since the other day. Walking for hours on end in temperatures such as this is destined for organ failure, and I knew that, but these days you didn't have a choice. If you wanted to stay alive by yourself, you needed to keep moving no matter what. So that's exactly what I did. You either get killed by the beasts, or you die of organ failure from heat , it seemed, and because I preferred the latter of the two if anything, I kept pushing myself forward despite the number of times I've stopped to merely dry heave, as the content in my stomach were left behind miles ago. Thankfully I was able to walk right up until I found the city wall. The wall the city built was meant to keep the uninfected in and safe which the beasts remained outside, or that's what they intended, but I'm not entirely sure how well such a plan worked as no one from the outside is allowed in. I've heard rumors that those who've tried to go in were quarantined, but we all know what that means, right...? Probably a good bullet to the head. So naturally, we're on our own out here.
     Luckily for me, the wall actually provided a decent amount of shade now that the blazing sun was sinking behind it, and as much as my body tried to refuse, I dragged it against it's will as far as I possibly could, only to come upon a rather tall fence within my path, and a low groan of defeat passed my parted lips as I fell against it and curled my fingers into the twisted metal as I stared beyond the fence. To my right was the wall I used in a desperate attempt to keep myself standing up, and to the left was an endless line of fences that stretched out as far as my hazy eyes could see. For a moment, I thought I was going to need to either backtrack once against through the shade as I didn't think my body could possibly handle and more direct sunlight, but the slightest of holes in the fence a fair distance away caught my eye, and I knew that was my only option at this point, and with the fence behind me, I knew I couldn't be attacked from behind, at least not for a little while anyway. with the side of the hole unknown to me, I decided to take the chance and drag my exhausted form along the fence, leaning against the metal to keep myself standing while I trudged closer to the gap in the fence, noticing how the cuts were clean as if someone had cut their way in — or out. Nevertheless, I reluctantly forced myself to stand in front of the hole, examining the size long enough to conclude I should be able to fit through it, and I didn't hesitate to sluggishly thread my leg through to give me slight stability on either side as I hunched the upper portion of my frame to slip through the fence, only to let out a small cry in pain as I felt a sharp wire from the fence pierce and drag through the back of my bicep as I was just about through. Instinctively, I raised a hand and grasped my bleeding bicep as firmly as I could, trying to apply as much pressure as I could while I desperately searched for somewhere secluded and safe to try and patch myself up the best I could. 
     I wasn't too sure just how far I'd walked, but what I was sure of was that I was beginning to feel far too light-headed, and I'd feel small dizzy spells within 5-10 minute intervals, and I was certain I wasn't even walking in a straight line anymore, but rather staggering in a disoriented, zigzag formation of sorts as I stumbled from one side to the other. That's when I felt the twisting of my empty stomach once again, and practically dropped to my knees to once again dry heave. At this point, I felt as if I really was going to die, because as far as my hazy vision could tell, there was nothing in sight, yet at the same time, the world spun around me and duplicated nearly everything in sight, and that was the point where I could just barely make out the faintest of clicks behind me through the constant ringing and pulsing within my ears, which caused my body to freeze in its place. There was a heavy silence after that, as I didn't speak a word, and whatever made that click didn't bother to make a noise, so I slowly forced my body to my feet with whatever determination I had left, and raise my blood-covered hands up behind my head despite how much pain my arm was in. I stood still for a long moment, hesitant to see what was behind me — though I knew it wasn't a beast because if it was, I certainly would've been dead by now — but soon I found myself turning all too slowly. First my body, then my head, and soon enough my blurred eyes found themselves staring face to face with the muzzle of a gun, which was strategically aimed between my eyes. My first thought was that someone was finally going to put me out of my misery as I felt like absolute rubbish — no, rubbish is quite the understatement, though nothing could possibly be an accurate description of how I felt. Then another thought ran in my head, that whoever this blurry figure holding the gun was, was thinking that I was infected, which brought me to parting my lips in a desperate attempt to speak, yet only a choked wheeze left as I couldn't find it in me to actually speak. The next thing I knew, I swear I heard a bang, though muffled as my mind started to turn black and my eyes fell shut, and that was the last thing I remember. A gunshot, and then, darkness.