Day 1:

After the strange encounter with that old man, I wake up on a bench to a pretty grim sight of a graveyard on a full moon. Chills went down my spines as the cold wind washes through the army fatigues that I was wearing. I remembered to have worn something else than army fatigues.

This looks somewhat like the zombie modes in the video games that I usually play. If this is somewhat remotely like those game modes, then it’s best just to run and try to find the way out. To my luck, I found a rusty old shovel that was somewhat usable as a weapon.

I run through the graveyard, shovel in hand, carefully avoiding the graves and potential undead revival. My luck runs short, however, the undead on cue, suddenly rise up and so I have to fight them.

“UEraghhhhhh….” Continuous growls of these monstrosities filled the graveyard. I reached for my shovel and land a few direct hits to the foreheads of the 4 of the zombies that reach me. I then run as far as I can from the “spawning point” of the zombies.

Finally, I reach the gate of the graveyard, drawing several zombies to me. I am about to reach a safe haven, but suddenly.

“Arghhhhh!” A loud voice of a man calls out in pain. “Please! Help me!” another cry for help reach my ear.

“SHIT!” I shout out loud, I barely made it out alive, why would I come back to “spawn” if it kills me…

“AH! Fuck it! I rather die being the hero than life being a coward.” My body was filled with adrenaline as I rushed through the zombies, shovel in hand, pushing them away from myself and running towards the shouting.

“Wait up! I’ll help ya, just hold on.” I shouted as I tried reaching the small storehouse that was surrounded by undead.

“Over here ya rotten meat bags!”

With haste, I use the shovel to hit one of the metal beams around the shack, hoping to get their attention away from the injured man inside.

The first enemy, I gather my courage and ran full speed at him. Using the sharp edge of my shovel, I shove the blade right through the forehead of my first enemy with ease, cutting off his brain, blood gushes out of his wound right at me and somewhat made me feel nauseous. The level of gore and the stench of blood can’t really be compared against the stench of raw meat, butchered animals nor anything that I have ever seen. It feels worse, not because I just got sprayed with blood. If this was a video game, I would just shrug it off and continue with the next guy, but since this is real, my first reflex is to throw up since this level of gore is too much for me.

I throw up and suddenly lost my focus. Other surrounding undead then sprinted right at me. Still feeling quite dazed off from the vomiting, I dodge their attack. I continuously shove them back and keep my distance and trick them to fall down so I can get an upper hand in combat. Even though, I was able to trick a few of them to fall down for me to make quick finishing moves, many undeads are still around. And in a moment of badluck, many of them lunges at me. So this marks the end to my adventure? This seems too dumb for a hero like me to die this soon-just after spawning too.

Suddenly, a hand reached out to me and pulled me away from the lunging undead.

“What kind of hero are you? Don’t die on the first job ok?” The person who yelled out for my help, suddenly ran out to help me.

“Thanks to the commotion you made, I was able to thin the heard and got you out.” Putting my arm through his shoulder, he then dragged me away.

“Listen we’re still not in a good position, so if you can lift your leg, I would be very grateful.” He requested.

Arm in arm, we ran towards the gate of the graveyard. Throwing me through the fence first, he then went through after me, as hundreds of undead follow us.

“hah ha… Thanks for your help stranger, I wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you.” He said, reaching for his helmet. Upon taking off the helmet, an image of a girl showed up as I blacked out from a wound that I had received.