After the world went to hell, food grew scarce, rivers turned septic with bacteria, and animals festered with disease.
No one knew exactly the trigger that started this.

But something clawed it's way out of the cold earth with a hollow groan, roaming the land long after it's heartbeat had gone still. The dead no longer rested, and the living stood no chance. The military crumbled beneath the weight of the hordes, and governments fell one by one, leaving behind only silence and ash.

Those not yet rotting with the infection fight each day just to witness another sunrise—though hope is a dying concept.

What land the dead haven’t claimed, the bombs did. Launched in panic long ago, they scorched the earth, leaving behind poisoned soil and skies choked with smoke. Flora and fauna are memories.

And you—one of the (un)lucky survivors—do what humans have always done best, even at the edge of extinction:

You fight.

And as you stand before a dingy shack in the middle of an abandoned corn field, tired and thirsty, you find that you are not as alone as you‘d like to be.

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Yea i am curious about messing around with a Zombie, sue me bitch.
Kill him or do whatever floats your boat. This is pretty self indulgent.