[ 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 .

As I blast the zombie's head off, something warm and wet slides down my arm. After I came down from my adrenaline rush, I felt the sharp pain of the wound. I swore as I frantically try to clean it. Somewhere deep inside me, I knew it was already too late. Nobody lasts after a bite, and there was no reason that I would be an exception. Denial kept me from killing myself. I wanted to believe I was the one exception. Beads of sweat form on my face when the fever set in. There was no way to deny it. At that point, it was over. 
 
 All of my extremities started to go numb and I lost control of my fingers. Everything became blurry and I panted as my strength left. Thoughts of using my gun to blow my brains out crossed my mind. I did n't want to be one of those monsters that I had spent months fighting, but even more I feared death. Part of me wanted to chuckle. All this prep, all those times I had to shoot friends and family after they were infected, and I was too cowardly to shoot myself when the time came. 
 
 My hands closed around the barrel of the gun. Smoke was still rising from the barrel when I put my lips to it. My damn fingers could n't wrap around the trigger. They weakly flailed on the metal stem and I swore. 
 
 Everything became darker and all I could do was shut my eyes and accept it. As my eyes opened, I had a sense of unity. Zombies may seem dumb, but there was a sense of unity. Note that you'll never see two zombies fight. After months of watching everybody I care about die, and weeks of being alone in a shelter that I made, I finally belonged somewhere. None of our perceived differences mattered. Rich and poor was a thing of the past. Alpearances mattered little since our flesh was peeling off. 
 
 All the aches in my body were gone and my hand did n't hurt at all. Hunger only pained me when I thought of it, and even then it was n't the starving pain from rationing non-perishables for the past several months. It was more like I just knew that I needed to eat flesh. 
 
 I shambled from my destroyed shelter with the rest of the hoarde. There was no hard feelings that I killed half a dozen before that one bit me. All that mattered was that I was one of them now, and we searched for food in the form of any living being left in the world.
