Two weeks had passed. Two whole weeks. The world went to hell quickly when people started turning feral and biting each other. They infected their victims with whatever disease they had and quickly the virus spread. It wasn't long before Los Angeles resembled hell and most of the cities people were changed into it's demons. Otto didn't know what happened to his family. He rushed through hell to get home just to find his mother and baby sister deceased on beds. They were each covered with a white sheet and each had bullet wounds to the head. His father was hanging by the ceiling in his parents room, casting a shadow over his mothers resting place. He was likely driven to madness by the choices his morals forced him to make. Otto hadn't forgiven him for taking his own life, but he understood. What happened to his girlfriend and her father was unthinkable though, literally; Otto hadn't allowed himself to think about it. It would be too much. He was already on the brink, any more trauma and he would break mentally, never to pick up the pieces.

All he found he could do for now was survive. For all he knew he still had two siblings out there, they wouldn't be able to get into the city with all the monsters there. If they were still living it was up to him to tell them the families fate, it was his curse to bear, for now at least. This he had been thinking about. If they somehow were still alive and they found each other at some point would he tell them the truth? Maybe it would be better if he told them they had gone down protecting each other like a family should; like Abigail's father... Not by being forced to put each other down like sick dogs. He had often wondered whether it was his mother who had put his sister out of her misery, or maybe his mom bit Marie and she was forced to shoot her. Or maybe his father simply came home and found them both feral. He would never know. 

He had been forced to kill a few feral people on his journey to the camp. He had to protect Abigail and her father. Her dad was a powerful man physically but he was only one man, they had to look out for each other. Killing the feral people was hard at first; it made Otto feel guilty. Not for the simple act of killing them, they were monsters, there was nothing to feel guilty about there, but for enjoying killing them... With the killing came a certain feeling; an intense excitement or maybe happiness. He didn't know how to describe it even to himself, all he knew was that in the few seconds during or after putting one of them down all of his problems disappeared and the infinite and intense anger he felt in the pit of his stomach subsided. It was bliss. After another few seconds though the blissfulness passed, the insurmountable anger returned and with it came a great shame for feelings he had just felt. 

Finally Otto was pulled out of his own mind by the sound of distant gunshots. There had been a lot of them lately and there were seemingly more every day. Despite the obvious worry of that Otto just couldn't find it in him to give a fuck... Sighing heavily he sat up on his bunk and rubbed his face with his hands and then began looking across the dimly lit and relatively quiet yet large tent. Most were asleep, drained physically and mentally by everything that was happening. Quietly though he watched two sisters talk; or at least he assumed they were sisters by the close way they seemed to be communicating. In the quiet Otto caught the last two sentences of their conversation and immediately choked. He laid back down, folded his arms over his face and wept silently.