HOTD: Tōshiro Nagi

Dead Lands

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"Damn it! Aim for their heads!" one of the guards cursed, urgently instructing the others as he swiftly reloaded his weapon. Before them stood the President's cabinet and security detail, now transformed into undead creatures.

Their clothing and bodies were splattered with blood, their lifeless forms lurching toward the living. The unsettling sound of their moans and groans filled the air, creating a chilling symphony of horror.

Gunshots pierced the air, each blast pushing back the relentless advance of the zombies. One after another, the creatures were struck, their bodies jolting and recoiling before succumbing to the final blow—a bullet piercing their decaying skulls.

Amidst the chaos, a woman leaned against the wall, her hand tightly pressed against her bleeding shoulder, a grim testament to the bite she had received from one of the undead.

Her voice strained with anger and fear as she cried out, "Who allowed them on the plane?" Her question hung in the air, unanswered, as another gunshot rang out, drowning out her words.

A gasp escaped a man amidst the chaos. "Oh, dear God! They bit the First Lady!" he exclaimed in shock, his voice filled with disbelief and horror. Meanwhile, inside the President's room, a large screen displayed the grim reality of their situation.

The map was cluttered with red markers representing the locations where communication had been lost: Washington, New York, Beijing, London, Tokyo, Moscow, and countless others. The alerts flooded the notifications, revealing the widespread devastation that had befallen the world.

"Mr. President, you must enter the code!" ordered a man dressed in a suit, the Chairman of the United States. In front of him, the President sat in his chair, his elbow on the desk, and his head resting on his fist.

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as he grappled with the weight of his decision. After a moment of heavy contemplation, he uttered in a subdued tone, "I can't."

"You and I have been bitten," the Chairman insisted, pointing to the visible bite marks on both his own bicep and the President's hand. "There isn't a single country on this planet that will allow Air Force One to land on their soil!"

"That's why we must retaliate against those countries that have used Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles against the US, while we still have the chance!" The Chairman walked around the table, closing in on the President.

He crouched down to bring his face closer to the President's, emphasizing his point. "Activate Triple 6 Delta Protocol!"

"It is your solemn duty to protect the people from foreign threats. It's your constitutional obligation," he continued, his voice filled with conviction. Suddenly, his expression contorted in agony, and he doubled over, coughing up a substantial amount of blood.

The President stood abruptly, creating a safe distance between himself and the Chairman. His gaze remained fixed on the distressed figure before him. The Chairman's once healthy white skin had transformed into a rotten gray, with blood streaming from his nose and mouth.

Addressing the lone guard in the room, the Chairman managed to struggle out, "I'm... not going to make it," his words choked amidst the blood in his throat and mouth. "Someone... Just end it!"