I was barely old enough to remember the world before it went to hell. Before all the decay and rot that took over the Earth, before, when there was a time we didn't have to fight against all odds just to be one of the lucky few that gets to live to see another day. Only that is, if you got lucky. That's the thing isn't it? Luck runs out at some point right? For everyone. When you're luck runs out, you're screwed and when you're screwed, you're as good as dead.
The only hope you have left is to pray that someone puts a bullet in your head before you turn. Those that turned, we call them walkers, though I've heard a few other names. Geeks, biters, lurkers. Doesn't really matter what name we give them. They're undead, rotting corpses that stumble around with the single goal to fill an insatiable hunger for the living, creating even more of them. The worst thing is, it doesn't matter how you die either. If you take it in the brain you come back as one of them.
We all die, we're out in the ground, or left behind... sacrificed or bitten... if you turn that's it, that's the lens of your story. Your name no longer matters after you're no longer human, and no one is left to tell your story.
YOU ARE READING
With or Without You (Twd Reader insert!)
Kinh dịIf you get lucky, you survive to see another day. That is, if you're lucky. But that's the thing isn't it? Luck is such a fickle thing, and when you run out you're screwed. When you're screwed, your dead. The only hope you have left is to pray. Pray...
