And It Continues
To his knowledge, he was the only one left. The aftermath from the crater left nothing but deterioration. It reminds Alfred of the numerous comics he used to read, and how he couldn't get enough of them. Now, it's his worst nightmare.
He sits in the front room of the house and stares at the door, tense, as the knob slowly turns. In the back of his mind he finds some left over hope that maybe Matthew, or somebody- anybody that is familiar- is on the other side. The more logical part of his brain alerts him. His mind spins through hundreds upon thousands of scenarios on how he can use the axe he found to hopefully- no, successfully- escape the undead creature that is behind the thin broken piece of wood that's supposed to be a door.
Stand. Breathe. Don't just sit there, idiot, move!
He runs, barefoot this time, to avoid making the thump-thump-thump of his old heavy, noisy, and revealing boots. The creature skulks through the kitchen after him now. Looking for the nation- no, food now, no longer a familiar person anymore. Food. This will be fun. The used- to-be-sane creature runs.
Alfred hears the floorboards creak under the two inhabitants in the house, his hands gripping the handle of his weapon. His fight-or-flight instincts pushing back and forth. He almost feels light headed, preparing himself. This….thing. Creature. Monster….it wasn't one of his citizens anymore. With his knuckles turning white from his grip, he sprints forward.