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The light poured through boarded windows, the door wrapped with tap tap tapping, the groans of undead just outside. One person in the decrepit building, their arms bleeding with massive scratches, a newly decorated scar, and a sack of food over their shoulder. Hearing the groans and growing trembles of the weak door, the young boy stammered, swallowing back what he could in his dry mouth, a small revolver in hand as he looked about for an escape. “Come on! Give me a break!” The groans and moans of angered beasts slammed and clawed in response, bodies taking running charges at the door and walls, BAM! The figures would bounce and fall, just to get back up and charge again.
        Taking a deep breath, the boy stood up, wincing in pain. His long cut on his shoulder burned with fiery pain, infection already setting in from the fall just a few days ago, and now was the reason he found himself in this mess. “Doctor Sunshine’s Drug Store… what a place to end it all..” Shaking his head, the survivor leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths as he peered out the boarded window beside him. “Third story, nothing to break my fall but the horde outside, and the rest coming into this little office…” Limping weakly to the rolling desk chair, he took a seat and leaned back, “If it’s going to end here, I refuse to be uncomfortable.”
        The shouts and shuffling of zombies outside grew louder but became a lulling tone as the door and walls screeched out in protest, just moments away from giving in to the pressure. The clicking of a spinning barrel called out as the survivor shuffled the revolver’s chambers around, “One bullet, six slots, how are my odds?” Putting the barrel to his head, he closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. CLICK!
        “Well, guess I have more time…” pressing his finger down on the spinning cage again, he began to rotate the piece quickly, letting more series of clicks call out. The door began to bulge, pieces of wood breaking and ripping free as a bloodied and pale hand reached through, screams and groans now audible once more. “I’ve had a good life… fuck, who the hell am I kidding? This is the fitting fucked end to a fucked begining!” shaking his head, he squeezed the trigger again, CLICK!
        Spinning the barrel he watched the door as a wall was suddenly punctured, another set of broken and crumbling arms reached into the office, swiping at air and clenching for anything to grab within reach. “I lost those I loved… That was years ago…” Shaking his head, he squeezed, CLICK!
BZZZZT! “I lost my mother…. Gave her mercy,” CLICK!
BZZZZT! “Lost my friends…” CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
BZZZZT! “Lost my home…” CLICK!
BZZZZT! “FUCK WOULD YOU LET ME GO ALREADY!” shaking his head, he dropped the revolver on the desk, the chamber coming loose to reveal the next pull would have been the money shot. Balling his fists up with rage, he cursed, he screamed, kicking the chair and walls, “FUCK!” Standing up and pacing in the room, he shuddered, his figure shaking from the stress as the hands ripped through the door, only the weak wooden boards acted as a barrier while outstretched arms reached to welcome him. Peering out through the boarded windows, he stared at the sinking sun, his light was sinking just as fast as his drive for a solution.
“I lived an unfulfilled life, a painful existence, one of loss, death, and undead… at least it’s almost over.” BAM! The boards and door fell, releasing the horde to flood the room. Acting fast, he jumped to the desk, grabbing his revolver, “If there is any mercy in this world… set me free.” BZZZZZT! CLICK! Heart sinking, he watched as the living, shriveling pile of flesh charged after him, clambering over each other, CLICK! Outstretched arms, screams and shrieks, a curse of unintelligent mumbles and growls. []Click! [/i] “FUCK YOU!” CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! The revolver was suddenly slapped out from his hands as a thin figure leaped. Tackling him to the ground and sinking their rotted teeth into his shoulder. A second ran up, scratching his legs as it began to feast on his chest, a third to his arm, a fourth started at his leg, while the rest descended, ripping each other to shreds to get to their target, his face bit,  eyes chomped and an outstretched arm towards a revolver just inches away from him, the bullet readied in the chamber as shrieking screams became silenced.