"We're not alone."
True horror begins. Eric is handed the formula of the disease. It was apparently treatable. Why did everyone stop moving? The world was collapsing and everyone was turning into—
"Eric, run!" The man pushes his teenage son towards the hidden escape chamber. The laboratory facilitated such escape routes, but when the force of zombies thrash through the bulletproof gates with ease, Eric made up his mind.
His last of the family was left to die. His father was injured, trying to protect Eric from danger. The father could only entrust his son with the mission, and with his life on line, he prays that the mission shall be successful till the end.
Tears cascade down his eyes. He was half forced to watch his father die amongst the morbid crowd of brainless, decaying humans. The sight is embarked in his memories. The young lad quickly makes an escape from the cellar. It was too, as expected, filled with the undead. Eric was puzzled by the number. He had only one fire canon in his possession.
There was a possibility, where he shall be forced into using the serum right away. The antidote.
"Argh! I'm not weak, freaks!" A sudden aura fills inside his body. Eric begins the chase where zombies from every corner of the city were alerted. The car had a speed limit, that's how fast they undead were without boundaries. Eric was panicking while a group of zombies appear in front of his path.
"Freaks." Grumbling under his breath, he kicks on the breaks and accelerates the car to a speed almost as high as 120 miles per hour. Spilling dirt and blood on the hood, Eric sees that the small fraction has helped the mob behind him close in, fast.
"I want to live!" He screams to himself, to motivate himself. The cruise of his car turns badly as he falls off the cliff.
Was this the end of Eric and the only chance to save humanity from dying?
He didn't think so.
Below him was the car. A strong dried twig attached to the cliff growing against it's will by the cliff helps him stay alive. The antidote was safe. He had to multiply the formula and find a way to diffuse it in the very air soon.
He sees many zombies run carelessly down the cliff, falling into the blast that occurs. He watches their decaying bodies quickly catch the fire. So that was the principle behind the fire canon. They were more effective than guns and its bullets.
"Argh! I have to live... I have to live..." That was the mantra that keeps him alive.
For two months, he stays hidden amongst the city in the safe house of a farm. Of a penthouse, maybe a rich person owned it before. The young man had even forgot his own birthday last week. He had no reason to celebrate it.
The only reason he lived... was to loathe his father.
His father, because he who created the virus himself died a cowardly death.
The young lad foregone the fact that his father had shown immense bravery by saving him. Yet, Eric loathes him and wishes to make a promise of his own, to himself.
The logs of mannequins stand there in front of him. Haphazard marks of knife slashes and gun shots imprinted on their barks. Eric holds two long swords in his arms— traditionally called the KATANA.
He gazes at the logs, resenting them by imagining them as the loathsome zombies. That was how his passion towards these mistakes were.
"I will end anyone who matches my level. There shall be no survivor. None except me." He says to himself. The antidote he has tried so hard to preserve... was found smashed to the floor and absorbed into the land.
Indeed, it was the most foolish act humanity has ever seen after the world wars. The sole reason for his existence seemed to be to deliver the antidote to anyone who may be able to restore humanity, but he defied his fate in a harsh decision of two tormenting months.
He forego of humanity.
He became selfish.
Selfishness... to live alone and peacefully.
Past shapes a person in the best or the worst way possible. What was his reason to take this ghastly decision?
All answers lie in the future.
For all curiosity shall be answered with genuinely.