Lee sat on the pavement with his head in his hands. The handle of his knife lay next to him, the blade stuck in one of the five creep carcasses that lay next to him. He sat, thinking about what had just happened. He had lost his shelter, and in doing so all of his food, weapons, and supplies. The scene he had just experienced replayed in his mind.
He was sleeping in his bed. It was early morning, maybe six o'clock. The first light of morning peeked through his window. Suddenly, he was awoken by the rattle of the tin cans he had strung from the threshold of his bedroom, as a last defense. He jerked upright in his bed to see three creeps approaching him. How had they gotten past the trap? He thought to himself. He quickly grabbed his hunting knife from his nightstand and stabbed the top of the head of the first creep which was crawling onto his bed, killing it instantly. He rolled off of the bed and ran around the remaining two into the kitchen and then into the hallway of his apartment building, past his disarmed trap. I forgot to reset it?! God, how stupid am I!? He gripped the leather handle of his knife tightly, waiting for the two creeps to come out the door where he would dispose of them. However, before he could do so, he heard more gnarling behind him, and he turned to see several more creeps coming out of the stairwell. His heart lurched. He turned and sprinted down the hallway in the other direction, headed for the other stairwell. As he descended, he noticed that the other floors of the apartment were crawling with creeps.
With several more walking corpses at his heels, he ran into the lobby. He grabbed a nearby trash can and knocked it over in front of the doorway and ran outside. The creeps toppled like bowling pins over the can and into a big heap. He counted four, no five. Seizing his opportunity, he stabbed three of them before the other two got up. Number four knocked him down, causing him to drop his knife, and landing on top of him. With the creep drooling blood and other unknown fluids all over him, Lee managed to wedge his forearm under its chin to keep it from biting him. He struggled to get it off of him, feeling his shirt becoming drenched in blood and guts.Finally Lee mustered the strength to push it off, and he stood up and stomped its head in until it looked like a car had just run it over. The fifth and final walker had regained his footing and began approaching him. Lee bent and retrieved his knife, feeling the fear and rage building up inside him. He unleashed those emotions into one quick stab to the face, breaking off the blade of the knife in the creep's head. It collapsed, and shortly after so did Lee, exhausted. So there he sat, with his head in his hands, mulling over what he had lost, basking in self pity. His shelter was overrun with creeps The shelter he had come to call home, that he had lived in for a year and a half. And with it, all of his supplies, food, water, weaons... He must have sat there for hours, just thinking.
He was awoken suddenly from his pity party when he heard a twig snap. He turned his head to see a middle-aged man ready to swing a hatchet at his head.
"Hey, hold up! I'm you're friend, I mean no harm!" He said as he jumped to his feet and threw his hands up as to calm down the man. He took a few steps back. Looking down at himself, he realized he must have looked just like a creep himself just sitting there. "I'm not bitten." He said as he saw another man approaching from behind the man with the hatchet.