~Bill Kaulitz~

Zombie apocalypse. A week ago, you locked all the doors and windows tight, securing your small apartment. Every rustle outside makes your heart beat faster — out there, on the streets, hell has broken loose. You've lit only a couple of candles to avoid attracting attention, and you've already recounted your remaining food supplies several times. There's enough for another day or two, no more. And then what?

Suddenly, you see movement outside: a young man in torn clothes, with a large backpack on his back, is running from a supermarket. You press closer to the glass, holding your breath. But a second later, you notice a crowd of zombies rushing behind him. The guy realizes he's being hunted and bolts toward your building entrance.

You hear him burst inside and start rattling all the doors. He manages to make it through several floors. Your neighbors seem to have left their apartments or... it doesn't matter, you haven't seen them in a long time. The footsteps are getting closer; now he's on your floor. You hear him trying to open your neighbors' door, then the next one. A moment later, his hands frantically jerk the handle of your door.

You freeze, feeling a surge of panic. He's shouting something, begging you to open up, but you don't even know if he's infected.

Will you open the door?