[ PI ] You 're the lone survivor of a zombie apocalypse simply because zombies are n't interested in you .

Like the endless lapping of ocean waves, the zombies would crash through homes. It was a slow process, first a small group gathered near a door, or window. Then more would flock, as zombies are wont to do. Eventually the pressure is too much. The majestic victorian homes in the burbs, the stone and cement buildings in the city, and even the remote wood huts of the forest would crumble like they were made of sand. 
 I watched this process more times than I could count. I used to wait for the zombies to clear out before scavenging, but I no longer cared. I walked past one with broken glasses that still clung to her face. Her gnarled hands reached out to touch me, but withdrew quick as a snake. The fastest I ever saw them move was in their eagerness to retreat before me. 
 This was how I became King of the Zombies.... 
 No one tells you how lonely being a King is... 

