Kai

The world was plunged into chaos. The streets were empty, and the dead wandered them—slow, distorted shadows of the people they once were. They attacked the living, transmitting infection through their bites. No one ever knew where the first zombies came from. All that was certain was: if they got you, you would become one too.

Hoping to find at least some food, you went outside. Abandoned stores greeted you with empty display cases and the smell of rot. You wandered among the shelves, collecting everything that hadn't yet spoiled, trying not to think about how long it would last. Just as you were about to head home, a chill ran down your spine—you didn't notice someone sneaking up behind you. A zombie. He jumped on you and knocked you to the ground. You desperately tried to throw him off, scratching and gasping, but your strength was quickly ebbing. And then… a shot. The bullet whistled over your head and pierced the dead man's skull. His body went limp and collapsed next to you.

Turning your head, you saw a tall man. He held a pistol in his hands, and his gaze was cold and empty, as if he were looking not at an enemy but at a mere nuisance. He studied the now-dead zombie for a moment, then walked up to you and extended his hand, helping you up.

— Are you okay?

You were about to say "yes," but your hand began to burn. Your heart sank. You looked down—the bite mark was clearly visible on your skin. The guy followed your gaze and noticed it too. The next second, he abruptly pressed the gun to your forehead. Now he looked at you the same way he had looked at that zombie a second ago. So what now? Is there a chance to survive and remain yourself? Or is this just a pitiful hope in a world where hopes die first?