It wasn't a happy day, no it wasn't.

It opened up to a funeral, it was raining and people gathered around fresh gravesite, a tombstone marked, "Isaac Hunter, a great man, and a great explorer"

Around them were a family, a mother a father, and a son, all in black garb under an umbrella, the son had long black hair tied back, his face young and full of hope. This is the hero of this story, Bren T. Hunter. The Nephew of the now dead Isaac Hunter.

The scene moves to an office where a man behind the desk with a name plate that said, "R. Figgins" was talking to them.

"…and now I will read the will of the deceased, thank you for coming" Mr. Figgins said to upset family.

"To my brother Ron, I leave you my prized possessions, my first gold bar I found years ago along with all my estate. I know it isn't much my brother but you know I wasn't a man to settle down" Mr. Figgins read out loud

"To his wife Karen, I only wish for you two to be happy and to not grieve for my lost, no matter what it may be"

The women nodded her head and held her husband close.

"To my nephew Bren, I know you grew up to me telling you stories of my adventures, and I now want you to now experience ones of your own. Years ago I gained the deed to an entire island. That island is now yours, according to the man who I obtained the deed from, it used to be a mining colony, but was shorty abandoned because according to them, the resources were not enough to pay for maintain a colony. I wish to give this island to you and for you to find the adventure to tell future Hunters"

Bren looked at Figgins like he just swallowed a bug, "My own island? Really" Bren asked

Figgins nodded his head, "Yes, according to the will, the deed is to go to you. I did some research on the island, it does legally belong to him, and it is abandoned" He said handing Bren a map showing the island, it was certainly far off the coast and judging by the design, could easily be in the hundreds of miles when it came to size.

"…so when can I leave" Bren said

[Screen Wipe]

Bren was dropped off at an old dock, according to the man who brought him here, this dock was a part of the old mining town, Bren currently had some jeans, a light blue shirt, a backpack and an iron pick axe he bought on the way here.

The man left telling Bren he would be back in a month to check to see if he wanted to return home.

Bren looked around the old mining town, it had a few broken down wooden homes, a large inn it looked like, a theater but judging by the poster of "Miss Maria "the legs" Tormia" it wasn't about plays. But what caught his attention first was the general store.

"Better get supplies" He thought to himself, unaware he was being watched, in the trees a shadowed figure silently watched him.

Bren stepped into the store, plenty of dust scattered causing him to cough a few times and he looked through the shelves, some old preserved food, a couple of tools, rope, lanterns and torches, but that's it.

"Not a bad selection" He thought packing his bad with food and torches, he found they were like matches, you strike them, they light up for a couple of hours, useful.

Bren stepped out and then looked at the inn.

"Well it's getting late, might as well rest up in here" Bren said walking in, he found the master keys to the rooms and picked out the best room, and by the best room, the only one not dusty or full of bugs.

"Note to self, build new housing" He thought lying on the bed, he wagered it would be more comfortable on the floor.

It didn't take long for him to sleep but then he heard something, moaning sounds.

He got up and looked out the window; zombies were coming towards the building.

"You got to be kidding me" He thought, "Ok as long as I stay in here I-" He heard a loud pounding and he ran out and looked in the lobby, he held his pick axe in his right hand and gulped, he saw outside through the window what looked like zombies.

"No" He thought now panicking as the zombies began to break through

"Now or never!" He thought running to the front and then swinging the pick axe into the top of the head of the first zombie who broke in, it let out a moan falling to the ground and Bren pulled back

"Bring it on!" He yelled at the second and then swung the pick axe into its neck and it too fell.

Bren began to pant and ran out, he needed to run, he was thankful he had his pack on him and he found the food, he could find a new place to hide, stay fed, and wait it out, but then he saw him. It was a tall shadowed figured. All black with only purple eyes, the right was had a red slashing scar running across the face, it stared at Bren and he stared back.

"What are you?" Bren asked it, he didn't know what to do, but what he did feel was completely and under fear.

The figure turned its head and so did Bren, he saw more zombies coming for him.

"Damn it" Bren turned and ran, praying the black figure wasn't with them.

"Got to find a place to hide" He thought and then he saw it a Medium sized stone building, with a worn sign that said, "To n mit y"

He ran in and saw plenty of stone bricks and began to pile them up against the door, he began to breathe again and looked around, it looked like the place was a smithy, and he could see many furnaces around there along with what looked like metal armor and some swords.

"A black smith's place huh." He thought and listened, he didn't hear the zombies, he must be safe.

"Well…one night down, 30 to go" He thought….