Prologue

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The town was quiet, birds chirping here and there. Stores lined up along the roads, most of them open, waiting for customers to walk inside. Their were some orange barrels along what appears to be a sewer grate, indicating that construction was happening.
But the workers...were dead, all laying on the ground, black veins crawling up their skin, their eyes open yet lifeless. Beyond them, more bodies stacked up, all in the same state. Cars were abandoned, some having more dead bodies in them, blood covering the windows.

Up ahead, their was a hospital that stood, but it was just as apocalyptic-like inside. Bodies strewn about, equipment and other items scattered along the floors. The janitors closet was open, a man standing in the middle of it, a gun in his hand. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, watching the infection spread, knowing he doesn't have much time left. He told everyone he knew, telling them to stay away, no matter what happens. Sweat beaded down his forehead, swallowing hard.

On the other side of the door, at least five bodies lay, all from him killing them. He tried to reason, to get them to come back to their senses, but they were too far gone. So he pulled the trigger, ending their suffering.
The black veins now just reached his neck, and, with the last click of his gun, he loaded up the last bullet, pointing the barrel at his head.

Tears streamed down his face, mixing with his sweat. "I'm sorry..." He whispered.
Pulling the trigger, Sam fell to the ground, becoming one of the many dead corpses.

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