We have no idea where we're going, but we didn't care. The halls ahead of us are dimly lit by flashlight, slightly adding to our fear. Taking a right we bump into a pair of dead women. I hit one of them with my flashlight as we pass. Good thing they seemed out of it. The random mini groups never stopped accumulating. Each new group were in twos or threes, yet we didn't take them down. Now the consequences are catching up to us.

It making a left we come across a large hall. Unlike the narrow, clear ones we've been running this hall has boxes and bodies everywhere. It seems to be a battlefield as rusted weapons are scattered about the oderus floor. There were stairs on the other end. They may have never been seen if the light up the stairs didn't just appear. I take my chances and dash with my hand still locked with France.

To our misfortune some of these corpses were alive, grabbing at our feet. The horde that was chasing us have caught up and are now tripping for our flesh. France glaces back and lets go of my hand. What is he doing?

"France? Hey-"

"They'll just keep chasing us. My fists work for only so long. Just get us weapons," he shouts as he picks up a small shield. We need weapons, well, more like I need a weapon. So, I leave the Frenchman to his punching and look for a sword or something sharp. A small bit of the horde make it to him.

It doesn't take me long to find a good looking sword. Hastily, I pick up the warm sword and skim over its awesome craftsmanship. Whipping around to help, two zombies quickly stubble behind France. I run to the closest zombie and decapitate his head clean off. Ignoring the extreme lightness of the sword, I slice the other one in half. Yes! With this new sword I will put these zombies on the ground and make them stay there! France takes it into his own hands to get a weapon. He get's himself a somewhat new looking ax.

As the mini waves came in small groups I noticed how tired I was getting. The awesome me can't get tired this easily, this wasn't normal. And this unexplained fear and panic feels wrong, yet natural. Of course I'm not thinking about these feelings right now, I'm fighting for my life.

My arms ache, my left hand burns. I've never felt so human in my life. France's ax isn't too stable in his hands. The same is almost true for my sword. I take my last slice and turn for what I'm hoping is the exit.

"Flee!" I shout as I break into a sprint. France finishes his zombie before following. Carefully I doge most of the hands trying to get my pant leg. My flashlight has become extremely weak. The moment my right foot hit stairs is the most awesomest moment of my stay. Hurrying up the stairs a scream breaks the gurgling corpses behind me. I abruptly stop to look.

The ax and France fall on the stairs. My light isn't letting me see the whole picture. I backtrack the steps until I can reach him. It's unclear but something caught his foot. Raising my sword I bring it down upon what I'm hoping is a really sharp hand. I can't exactly lift France, but I attempt. I'm able to make it to the doors at the top. With joyous pants I shoulder them open.

Light and a nice maple smell hit me. I'm not calm yet, but I know what can aid that. I gently lean France on a wall. As I go for the door I glance at his bleeding foot. I don't like it at all. Next to the door is a metal plank. I pick the heavy thing up and put it through the handles. The double doors shake and makes the varied sounds that the creatures make. I then look around me and realize this isn't really hall like, except to the right of us.

Giving an exhausted laugh I look to France. He...doesn't look too good. There's also this weird, low hiss coming from him. I watch ash he examines his own ankle. Bite marks. Deep bleeding bite marks that continuously bleed on the wood floor. My happy little smirk doesn't stay. If these zombies are the same as in the movies then I know what's going to happen.

"Prussia, di-did you by any chance get a bandage?" He smirks, leaving the wound alone. He then covers his eyes.

"No, I don't have anything useful with me. I don't think I can help you," I state. No one can help you.

"Alright. Could you...get me something to eat? This weird hunger has been going on as we were fighting. Something quick sounds nice..." He spaces out. Then he just looks at me. My hand tightens around the hilt of my sword. Is zombiefication this fast? "Also...my eyes burn."

My legs don't move. There's no use, he's going to turn. I've watched enough horror movies to know there's no hope. I just want to deal with this in a nice way. I'll wait until he can't tell who he is and end his life that way. Hopefully he'll turn back to normal after dying. He's still a nation and everything's going to be fine in the end.

I wait for a while. There aren't too many differences other than his healing. The bite mark has healed into a scar. I've sat across from him, watching. His breathing has picked up and he's licking his lips.

"Prussia, you haven't moved. What are you...waiting...for," he faded to a whisper. His nose is doing the sniffy thing. More specifically he's sniffing at me. A low hiss escaped his lips as he sits up right. He tries to take his hand off his eyes, but he painfully hisses. I think he's finally lost it. But, he's not sounding like the other zombies.

Maybe whatever the people did to him was an attempt to stop zombism. If it is than it's failing. I should end France's temporary suffering. Now seems like the best opportunity. Cautiously I get closer to him. He reacts by getting up. Almost like I was an immediate threat he attacks me. Luckily my sword was in the right place.

My sword runs through his chest. It's perfectly through his lung. As he hisses in pain I push him away to stab his other lung. Now that he's unable to breathe I shove him to the ground. To make sure he doesn't run away while his body cures itself I cut his hamstrings. Full fledged nations heal within a matter of minutes to hours. Some parts of the body take forever to heal, like tendons and major organs. I cause further damage to his hamstrings before staring at what I've done.

To hurt a friend pains me, but must be done. I drag the now struggling man to the double doors to rest and heal. After preparing his body in a way that he would find comfortable, I look at the amount of blood that's around me. Stabbing both his lung may have been too much. With my clean hand I dig into my bag for my notebook. It's a little hard to write in, but I'm able to keep it clean.

After writing 'Keep France safe' I hear something. It sounds a lot like Italy. I put my notebook away hastily. Without another thought of France I walk to an intersection. The moment I stopped was the moment Italy screams in the distance.

"Help, Germany, Romano's down!"

"I'm coming," I yell back. I secure my bag before running towards the sound of my dream man. As I run down the hall I skim the surrounding doors. I don't pay attention the the marking on them. What I do pay attention to is are the echoes of battle. Metal on metal weapons can be heard and a few familiar voices too. When I get to the end a random person flies by me. One look left and I don't believe my eyes.