The End...

"Get away from me!" I scream.

Horror beseeches upon me as I run from my new friends, my family, my community.

My life...

Unfortunately for me, running as fast as I can takes a toll on me. I cannot control my breathing fairly well, so I tire myself out very quickly. I used to play soccer and baseball, but I was always the position that did the least amount of running, even though I was near the top of the ranks in those positions.

In soccer, I was the goalie. Ranked number two in my state, I put up shutout after shutout after shutout. Playing baseball, I was the catcher. Defensively, I could throw anyone out who would dare try to steal second or third base. Offensively, I hit no less than .364 with no less than 42 homers and 100 RBIs, all records. At the top of my career in each sport, I had 10 shutouts for soccer, a club record in a season, and 21 straight shutouts before getting scored on, also a club record. As for baseball, my career year I hit .398, with 71 homers and 162 RBIs, which stands as a club record, as well as a state record.

I turned yet another corner, running, panting, struggling to grasp for air. I was not familiar with this damn apocalyptic town and so I had no idea where the hell I was heading towards, though I soon did find out.

I turned yet another corner, only to find out that, what lay ahead of me, waiting for me, was a despicable, unforgivable wall. Now, it wasn't like a fence where you can climb up and hope to get over in time. No, this was a brick wall, with no way up, one way in, no way out. I struggled and flailed to climb up the wall. I even tried wall jumping, and yet, that only made me more dead. I turned around, seeing that the brain-dead army was behind me, closing in on my position. As I hectically scrambled about, trying to find a way to get away from death, they just slowly approached me more.

I grabbed the sword and the machete I had lodged in my backpack and started swaying them around, slicing the mutilated freaks into twos, threes, some of them even in fours and fives.

"This is where I put it all on the line!" I shouted. "This is my final stand!"

Myself, I had actually put a dent into the amount of zombies that there were. I swung the sword and machete around a little longer. After that, I grew tired, unable to grasp some for some desperately needed air. I looked up, and saw all the friends I had just made, as well as my family.

"It can't...be..." I struggled saying. "It just...can't!"

A tear had fallen from my eye, running down the side of my face, and ultimately falling on my blood-splattered blue shirt. I collapsed on my two knees, scraping them both badly. Two pools of blood expanded from my knees and conjoined into one large pool of blood. The infected zombies picked up the aroma of the blood and bathed themselves in it, allowing me to sidestep them and rush away, towards freedom. There was just one problem with that, the blood spewing from my knees left a trail for the zombies to follow me, though I hadn't noticed that at all.

As I continued running, I saw that, in front of me, was the town gates, all barricaded and "barred up." Just on the other side of the iron gates was a heavy artillery vehicle. I slammed into the iron gates, foolishly thinking that they would open fault easily, giving myself a bloody nose. I stammered away, trying to stop the loud ringing that was occurring in my ears after I banged into the iron gates.

I sat down, hiding myself from an obvious sight, holding my head tightly. The ringing inside my head felt like my head was about ready to explode; it vigorously hurt me. After a while, about five minutes later, the ringing had stopped. Reaching for my book bag, I got back up on my two feet, unfortunately smashing my head into a plank of wood.

"Holy shit!" I tried using better words of less slander and profanity, but that's all that would leave my mouth.

After a while, I felt blood dripping from the top of my head, down the side of my face, and splattering itself as it connected to the ground. I felt woozy, unable to maintain my balance. I staggered over, slamming the back of my head into one of the iron bars on the iron gate.

"Ahh!" I screamed. "The dreaded ringing!"

I held my head tightly once more, trying desperately to stop the bleeding and stop the ringing. I had my eyes shut to the point where it actually started hurting me. Once the ringing stopped, I slowly opened my eyes, noticing that even more blood was dripping down my face. In front of me were the zombies, slowly approaching the helpless living sack of flesh.

The pool of blood was expanding all around me. I looked up, noticing that my vision had become blurred. I found it hard trying to see clearly now, let alone, try to stand up. The pool of blood was at an alarming size, and the zombies had started closing in on me.

I always thought that I would die of old age, not at the dead hands of the terrifying undead. Then again, I didn't die from them or even by them.

I had passed out, collapsing entirely in the pool of blood around me, splattering blood all over my face and body. I had died from excessive blood loss...

(A/N: How's this for an entrance to my new story? I tried doing something a little off from my comfortable zone and decided to do something like this. I promise you that this will probably be the shortest chapter of this story, for I am trying to construct a long one, hopefully over 15,000 words by the time this is done. But can you tell who this character is? I didn't use any names for a purpose! I'll try to update this as quickly as possible but for now, I leave you with this cliffhanger.

Coming to the end of this long author's note (it appears long on my phone), I'd like to mention my friend and fellow author twindragonsX1. They (two brothers share the account) are phenomenal authors and are real skilled at writing stories. Be sure to check them out!

I conclude this author's note by leaving you with this: the person you think this character is, may not be who you think it is. So long for now!)