A snapped 12 gauge in one hand and a pretty princess watch in the other hand. Sounds like a corny joke but this is my life. Hundreds of the best undead this shitty take on resident evil could throw at me. Bodies stacked high on all sides of me. And a nice autumn afternoon to top it off.

Throwing away the shotgun I broke over a stage 5s face, I take off my bulletproof vest. It's useless now with all the claw marks in it. Looking down I can see my ribs pasted the torn muscle.

'Cool' A smile makes it's way to my lips as I look at the Bokor. A skeleton. Nothing more nothing less. I've fought undead with multiple arms and skin that .50 cals have troubles with. But hey why not make the final boss a skeleton? Now it's really starting to sound like a joke.

It stands indifferent like I didn't just murder it's whole army before it decided to get it lazy ass up off it's makeshift throne of human bodies. "Look man I'm tired and I need a break." I point to my torn chest to emphasize my point. Can't tell if it doesn't care or just can't understand me, but it stares at me. There's no endless hungry or malice in it's eyes like the rest of the undead. Just a look of approval. 'Should've kept taking my meds, the thing doesn't even have eyes' It tilts it's head looking me up and down.

I'm in combat pants that have more cuts than I do. There's a karambit and a tactical knife at the waist. No shirt to hide my dark skin that would've gotten me shot over petty reasons before this apocalypse. I'm bald from all the stress I've gone through. No shoes at all.

I let off a soft laugh as I think about a time where I used to fight people over stepping on my shoes. Last human alive and I can't even die with some Jordans. I'm not liking this joke too much.

I sit down staring at it. Blood soaks into my pants as I lean back. 'God I want a shower's I smile and pat the ground next to me, gesturing it to come sit down next to me. It stands there paying no mind to my gesture; studying me as if I'm a new toy.

"You know man," I glance at my watch seeing it only has 5 minutes left "I really don't wanna fight" It shakes it head. Not disapprovaling but more like it found something funny. It raises it hands up assuming a boxers pose. The stance is perfect. It's relaxed but still firm. It's not putting too much weight on one leg and keeps a nice space in between for balance.

"Yeah no respect for the dying huh?" I stand up unsheathing my knives. The karambit in my right while holding my tactical in a forwards grip. Breathing has become difficult, reminding me of that time I almost drowned at the pool back so many years ago. It moves making use of footwork I've only seen in professional fights, delicate but ferocious. It throws a right but I've been living in this hell hole far too long to not know it's going to try and kill with the first blow. I don't even see the jab before I duck into it's guard and hook it's wrist with the karambit, stabbing my tactical into it's elbow.

I swear it's smiling. The tactical snaps as it pulls back it's fist to throw a kick to my now empty left hand. Still trying to kill with every blow. I raise my arm to block while putting my foot in between some rumble. A crack resounds through the air as both my arm and ankle snap. I could care less, I don't feel a thing.

Pivoting on my good foot, I use the force of the kick to drive my elbow into it's jaw. It doesn't budge and just looks back at me like I've done fucked up. 'Ha so many faces for something with just a skull' It head butts me down into the ground.

Another snap, this time I'm sure it's my spine. Can't feel shit but my body won't move when I tell it too. I blink the blood outta my eyes just in time to see the skeleton walking over to me rubbing it's chin. "At least I hurt you," I smile as it puts it's foot on my chest "give me the honor of last words?" Another amused face as it nods its head.

My watch goes off playing some god awful theme song about the magic of charity or some bullshit. 'perfect timing' I grin as it crushes my good arm to get rid of the alarm. Again there's no pain, just a snap and crackle. It nods its head as if telling me to hurry up with my last breathe

"My advice to you is to always look up," I nod my head to the sky to the best of my abilities "looking down on people will get you killed" Confusion plays on it's face. Again I can't help but think how a skull can show so many emotions. It finally looks up to see a stream of bright light parting the clouds head right towards us. "Too bad I couldn't give you the advice earlier"