Humanity Lost

They're coming. I can hear them. I have two choices. Fight through them or jump. Both decisions could be fatal. Its life or possible death. All decisions seem to be this way ever since The Start. I can hear the rustling of the leaves and I can see the first Infected as it comes into view. Its a horrendous sight, one which still to this day gives me nightmares. There's blood pouring out of the gaping hole in its left cheek, hinting that it had just fed. On what I prefer not to think about it. What's left of the skin is like rubber, stretchy and a dull gray under the light of the day. Its bones protrude from the skin like the twigs from the ground. They aren't any color you would expect, because they are as black as the deepest night. The Illness does that to them. Unless someone out there can find a cure, we're all doomed to the same horrible fate. The Illness is a terrible disease that was unknown. It turns your bones black slowly and at the same time filling them with an unknown substance the color of rotten flesh. The goo makes them heavy, heavier than cement. They become fragile, ever more so than a raw spagetti noodle. Its hard to move when you are filled to the brim with poison. Always keep moving, that's our motto. Keep moving, keep your faith. Its all that's left to do when humanity is lost.