Tonight, an especially grim darkness cloaked the town, and the looters snuck out of their houses once more. I didn't see the survivors, but as I witnessed the infected rise from the ground, I knew they were out in the streets once more. They saw the survivors, and they all turned their heads in their direction. Upon spotting the remaining survivors, they began treading toward them, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Soon enough their pace quickened to a full-on sprint, rushing the survivors as fast as they could. They were no longer my neighbors. The contagion was in control now, and it was starving. I refused to look towards the carnage. I didn't want to be reminded of those memories I so desperately wished to forget. I don't want to face this reality anymore; I just want to waste away alone. All I felt was complete despair. The bleakness of my situation infected me more than any contagion could have ever hoped to. There was no reason to even try anymore.

Although I blinded myself from the assault carried out by the infected, my ears were flooded by the sounds of the shrieks of pain and the snapping of limbs. I pressed my hands against my ears so tightly that my knuckles turned white and my fingers trembled. The sound of vomit soon overrode the screams, and I knew exactly what was happening. A new batch of infected were being produced. I heard the infected trying to bust down the doors of other houses in search of survivors. I fell to the ground and cried out in agony. My head felt as light as a feather and my mind went fuzzy. The world had gone to hell, and I'd soon go with it. The contagion has a primitive sense of survival and will do what it must to thrive within its host. Watching this happen with humans is different than seeing it occur to animals. They're used as food for these creatures, and then when their usefulness is at an end, they are dispatched with haste.

I kept trying to ignore the hellscape outside. I could hear footsteps faintly approach the house I barricaded myself inside of. Was it an infected? Now, here I sit, staring blankly at the glowing computer screen in front of me. I'm surrounded by empty wrappers and food cans spread around the room, and I'm unsure of what is to come. The footsteps grew nearer, and then I heard pounding on my door. I don't think I've got much time left, so I'll have to wrap this up with haste. Soon, there will be no more survivors left in this wasteland. As the contagion realizes this, they'll grow famished. I suppose they will spread out in an attempt to find more hosts to feed off. They're fast and strong, and damaging them won't slow them down unless you destroy them completely. The banging on the door is getting louder. Whatever is on the outside is getting through.

There's no reason for me to run from this reality anymore. The door will come down at any second, and with it will come my demise. I have got to-

Someone broke through. A young man ran into the house and produced a petrified look upon observing me. It was a survivor, and he ran upstairs and out of view. I can feel the memories rushing back to me from the outbreak. Memories which hold a truth within them. A truth which I have long since attempted to deny. As my boney fingers tap against the keyboard, I feel my mind begin to fade away. I can't run away now, and soon I will be no more. A foul liquid is working its way up my throat. I don't have much time left, and neither does the young man inside my home. I get up from my seat, and I look down upon my thin frame with dismay. I think it's time for me to go.

I feel... hungry.