[ WP ] You were the last human on earth after the zombie apocalypse destroyed civilization . One day , you finally get infected by a zombie , but after turning , you realize what you 've been missing out on .

I have survived a long time. If it were some kind of sick game, I think I ’ ve won. But there ’ s no point. I ’ m the only surviving person on the Earth, which has been decimated by the Z0M0-B1 virus. 
 It basically turns you into some George A. Romero bullshit just like the movies. 
 
 The shambling dead looking for brains, except they don ’ t shamble, really. They can walk at a steady pace, maybe a half-hearted job, but not for long. 
 
 Their eating habits are weird, too. After all the death I ’ ve seen, and watched, I ’ ve never seen them fully take apart a person and actually consume them. Just a bite or two and that ’ s it. Then the victim just waits and turns after a few hours. When there were other people, it redefined the definition of a funeral wake. We actually said goodbye to the dead. 
 
 The walking corpses litter the street below me with their thronging masses, ebbing like waves of flash and bone against a single metal door that separates them from me and my few remaining supplies. 
 
 I ’ m trapped. 
 
 And this is my last day as the living. 
 
 The secret to my survival is a mixture of hunting, gathering, and nomadic settlement I guess you could call it. Suring the collapse I drove south and secured various forms of transportation, fuel and basic non perishable supplies to tide me over for a year of sustainability. Then I kept moving between locations where I had planted crops and a decent animal population existed, removing fences and the like so they could enter the compounds. 
 
 Sure, roaming packs of people came and went, some good, some bad, but they all moved on. Either in passing, or... passing. 
 
 At this point though, none of that mattered. I had come in to town for a basic supply run. Something at home needed fixing, and here I was with a ½ days worth of meals and a hatchet but no way out. And that door wouldn ’ t hold much more. 
 
 I could hear it creaking under the pressure of bodies rubbing up against it, steal and brick waxing and waning under the force. 
 
 I set down my hatchet on a desk in the second storey office of the almost barren hardware store warehouse. It didn ’ t have what I needed at this point: a means of escape. 
 
 The dead had seen and smelled me. I ’ ve seen it too many times to care with other survivors, where they end up here. There was no point fighting it. My time had come. 
 
 After removing most of my pack gear and putting it on the floor I finished my day ’ s rations. *At least I won ’ t go out hungry*, I thought. I ’ m not angry, sad or really that upset. I ’ m more annoyed than anything that I let this happen. But I ’ m also tired. I ’ m tired of just surviving and being alone. If there ’ s one thing I ’ ve always been jealous of since this whole thing began, it ’ s that the dead have always been together. They don ’ t fight one another. 
 
 I pulled out a picture of my only friend, Sam. “ Well Sam, ” I said, with a tired sigh, “ I guess this is it. Will you come to my wake? ” 
 
 * ” Oh, yes, of course I will. ” * She answered back. * ” I wouldn ’ t miss it for the world. ” * 
 I set her frame down on the desk beside the hatchet and exited the office, and slowly walked down the stairs leading to the warehouse floor, the creaking of the door growing louder as I approached. 
 
 I rolled a tipped garbage can out of the way and walked past the almost ancient check-out tills towards the door. 
 
 It was concaved into the warehouse now, barely holding by its hinges and lock, moving ever so slightly. I could hear the raspy breathing, groans, and moans of the dead on the other side. 
 
 A chill ran down my spine. 
 
 I hesitated for a moment, thinking about whether I was really ready to pack it in or not and Sam ’ s voice crept in to my head saying, * ” I ’ ll still be here. ” * 
 
 Placing my hand on the bolt, I slid it back, flinging the door open against my shoulder and pushing me back into a table display of empty promotional boxes. I hit my head on the concrete floor and everything goes black as I see dozens of dead hastily walk in through the door towards me, bending my way. 

