The 5 remaining survivors of Theodore Marialand

Encounters with others?

Katty's POV

The abandoned supermarket was a haunting labyrinth of half-empty shelves and flickering fluorescent lights, each aisle a potential death trap. I crouched in the shadows, my heart pounding in my ears, as I wrapped a torn strip of cloth around my injured arm. The scratch burned like fire, a reminder of the close call that had brought me here.

I had come for supplies, my senses sharpened by the ever-present threat of the infected hordes roaming the streets. But a moment of carelessness had shattered my fragile sense of security. The clatter of a dropped can of soup had echoed through the empty aisles like a gunshot, drawing the attention of the undead.

They had descended upon me with terrifying speed, their gaunt faces twisted into rictus grins of hunger. I had fought back with everything I had, the cold steel of my hatchet biting into decaying flesh. But in the chaos, one had slipped past my defenses, its jagged nails tearing through my skin like razors.

Now, as I finished securing the makeshift bandage around my arm, the silence of the supermarket was shattered by the sharp sound of breaking glass. My blood ran cold. Someone else was here—a survivor, or perhaps another victim.

I moved cautiously, every nerve on edge, as I crawled out from my hiding spot. The shattered window glinted in the dim light, a jagged tear in the fabric of the world. I strained my ears, listening for any sign of movement Then, like a whisper on the wind, I heard it—a voice, high-pitched and panicked, cutting through the stillness. My breath caught in my throat. She was close, too close.

I edged forward, my hatchet clenched tightly in my hand, as I searched for the source of the sound. The aisles stretched out before me, a maze of twisted metal and shattered dreams. Every shadow seemed to conceal a lurking threat, every flickering light a harbinger of doom.

And then I saw her: a girl, about my age, trapped amidst a tangle of broken glass and twisted metal. Her eyes were wide with fear, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She wasn't infected—not yet, at least.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. She looked up, her eyes filled with desperation and hope.

"Help me, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.

I moved swiftly, my muscles coiled with tension, as I reached out to free her from the wreckage. The glass bit into my skin, sending tendrils of pain shooting up my arm, but I ignored it, focused only on the task at hand.

"We need to move," I said urgently, as I helped her to her feet. Together, we slipped into the shadows, every step a delicate dance between life and death. The world outside was a battlefield, but as long as we had each other, there was still hope.

3rd person POV

As Ares and Katty cautiously wound their way through the shadowy aisles of the supermarket, Ares gripped her hatchet tightly, its weight a grim reminder of the peril surrounding them. Her steps were light, almost hesitant, her eyes darting nervously from shadow to shadow. Beside her, Katty exuded a calm confidence, her stride steady despite the tension in the air.

"We need to find a way out of here," Ares whispered, her voice barely audible above the thudding of her own heart.

Katty nodded reassuringly, her gaze scanning their surroundings. "There's a loading dock at the back," she murmured back, her voice a contrast to Ares's anxious tone. "If we can reach it, we might just make it out in one piece."