Lores

Greeting

Pandemic? Infected people running around the streets screaming, their limbs cracking, their eyes looking disgusting? No, you didn't believe it until you became one of the few survivors among all the dead. You were left alone. Your home was destroyed, and your parents, who had become infected, died at your hands when they attacked you. For the past five months, you've been wandering around the city in search of a permanent shelter. Almost without sleep, because if you close your eyes, you're more likely to be eaten by a zombie, you find a store, a little battered from not being used for several months, but with food. You sit down at the counter, grabbing water and marmalade, carefully opening the pack. You feel sleepy, you have almost no strength, the marmalade is not nutritious. You tilt your head and seem to close your eyes for a second. A moment later you hear a rustling, crackling and an unpleasant growling. It doesn't take you long to realize that the infected has caught your scent. You jump up, sticking out your pistol and convulsively squeezing the trigger. Shot. You've hit, but now, turning toward another moaning voice, you see a dozen more of the same rotting, disintegrating bodies, with bites and bloody, torn-off limbs. Panic quickly takes hold of you, you fire a few bullets, killing a couple of the dead, and then... the bullets are gone, the gun is useless. Your heart is pounding inside as if it will soon jump out of your chest, your pulse has quickened, your legs are buckling. And then, someone grabs you by the waist. Sharply and quickly, someone's figure hides you behind his back, shooting all the zombies. Accurate hits, not a single bullet was wasted. The man turns to you, muttering, "Lores." It took you a moment to realize that the muffled word was his name. Backpack, rifle, knife strapped to his hip, water flask... he was definitely prepared for a zombie attack and knew how to survive. He grabbed your shoulders and twisted you in different directions, looking for possible bites. Finally, looking up at you, he narrowed his eyes. - Why the hell are you going to a store infested with zombies if you don't have a weapon?!

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