๋༘⋆Enjin

This world had become a hell long ago, turning into ashes, trash, ruined buildings, and streets that were now deserted yet full of dead creatures—Zombies.

Every single day here was just about survival. Every step had to be quiet and careful so as not to draw the zombies' attention. You could have stayed in your hideout, but human needs get in the way of that, or more precisely—food, because without it, survival leads straight to death.

Of course, there was an antidote too, in case you got bitten by a zombie. Quite joyful news, if you leave out the detail that this antidote was scarce and not found everywhere.

And it seemed today that someone was about to find that antidote useful.

Enjin went out into the city in order to restock your food supplies, which were already running low.

He walked like a ghost, silently and calculatedly, so as not to make any noise and not to attract the attention of the zombies that were here and there.

Stepping into a store that he had previously checked to make sure it was safe from zombies both outside and inside, he began to wander between the shelves, looking over the various foods available there.

A cigarette smoldered between his lips, which he had lit recently while walking and gathering food into his backpack, intending to leave the premises soon to be safe from harm.

He had checked the place to make sure it was free of zombies, of course, but things were not that simple... In reality, one zombie was hidden away in there after all.

This zombie "revived" after sensing a human scent and the sound of Enjin's footsteps. This monster was quiet as it approached its victim, which in this case was Enjin.

But naturally, one clumsy step onto some trash on the floor instantly gave away that someone was here.

Only it was a pity that it was already too late.

When Enjin heard the sound behind him, he reacted quickly, but the zombie wasn't a slouch either. So just as Enjin was about to make a quick escape, the monster managed to bite his arm.

With a groan of pain, Enjin spun around, shoving the zombie in the chest with his foot so that it fell to the ground. But he didn't give the creature a chance to recover, pulling out his silenced pistol and firing a few shots into its head and chest, where a heart—even if a rotting one—might still be.

Enjin got out of that place as fast as his legs could carry him, ignoring the hellish, throbbing pain in his arm right where he had just been bitten. Drops of blood dripped onto the road as he ran.

He knew very well that the countdown had already begun; it was only a matter of time before he lost his mind and also turned into the monster that had just bitten him.

---

Before appearing back at the hideout, he treated his wound and wrapped it in a bandage so it wouldn't start bleeding again. He didn't want you to see it, even though he knew that was dangerous too. It was dangerous no matter what.

And he was just "lucky" that the zombie bit his arm instead of his hand, because that would have made what might happen to him immediately obvious.

And when he was finally inside? He acted just like always; there were no "strange" changes in his behavior. That evening he was himself, carefree and constantly cracking jokes.

But eventually, little by little, you began to notice the small details about him. The way he was sweating, or how he kept wearing long-sleeved clothes, grew more distant, and even a bit irritable.

You even noticed that Enjin started smoking his cigarettes in packs a day more often. And standing close to him, you could sense some kind of scent, though you couldn't quite tell what exact smell it was.

Meanwhile, Enjin was slowly dying before your eyes while you still didn't know it, even if you might suspect something. He had a fever and constantly felt pain in his infected arm, and the wound was beginning to change. It had turned purple, veins had started turning black around it, and the skin there was beginning to rot.

When you asked what was wrong with him, he brushed it off with, "Oh, nothing, I just caught a cold, everything's fine," even though he knew that nothing had been fine for days since the moment of the bite.

But did that reassure you? No. It only made you suspect Enjin even more and hope that it wasn't what it might be.

You always watched him, trying to figure out what was wrong with him while this idiot still acted as if everything was fine.

Until one evening you caught him with the proof you needed, but you wished more than anything that it wasn't what it was.

You were just walking down the hallway to your room, but as you passed Enjin's door, you heard a strange sound that was like... A groan?

You stopped in your tracks, pressing your ear against his door, listening to what was going on in there.

But eventually, when you heard a new, stifled groan of pain, you grabbed the doorknob and swung it open. No knock, no words of warning before walking in. You're surviving out here; there's no time for formalities.

So imagine your shock when you saw Enjin... changing the bandages on his arm, exposing a hideous wound there? And realizing that your worst suspicions had just been confirmed?

Enjin was struck speechless when you unexpectedly walked into his room, freezing right there in place, staring at you with a mix of fear, annoyance, and guilt.

This world had become a hell long ago, turning into ashes, trash, ruined buildings, and streets that were now deserted yet full of dead creatures—Zombies.

Every single day here was just about survival. Every step had to be quiet and careful so as not to draw the zombies' attention. You could have stayed in your hideout, but human needs get in the way of that, or more precisely—food, because without it, survival leads straight to death.

Of course, there was an antidote too, in case you got bitten by a zombie. Quite joyful news, if you leave out the detail that this antidote was scarce and not found everywhere.

And it seemed today that someone was about to find that antidote useful.

Enjin went out into the city in order to restock your food supplies, which were already running low.

He walked like a ghost, silently and calculatedly, so as not to make any noise and not to attract the attention of the zombies that were here and there.

Stepping into a store that he had previously checked to make sure it was safe from zombies both outside and inside, he began to wander between the shelves, looking over the various foods available there.

A cigarette smoldered between his lips, which he had lit recently while walking and gathering food into his backpack, intending to leave the premises soon to be safe from harm.

He had checked the place to make sure it was free of zombies, of course, but things were not that simple... In reality, one zombie was hidden away in there after all.

This zombie "revived" after sensing a human scent and the sound of Enjin's footsteps. This monster was quiet as it approached its victim, which in this case was Enjin.

But naturally, one clumsy step onto some trash on the floor instantly gave away that someone was here.

Only it was a pity that it was already too late.

When Enjin heard the sound behind him, he reacted quickly, but the zombie wasn't a slouch either. So just as Enjin was about to make a quick escape, the monster managed to bite his arm.

With a groan of pain, Enjin spun around, shoving the zombie in the chest with his foot so that it fell to the ground. But he didn't give the creature a chance to recover, pulling out his silenced pistol and firing a few shots into its head and chest, where a heart—even if a rotting one—might still be.

Enjin got out of that place as fast as his legs could carry him, ignoring the hellish, throbbing pain in his arm right where he had just been bitten. Drops of blood dripped onto the road as he ran.

He knew very well that the countdown had already begun; it was only a matter of time before he lost his mind and also turned into the monster that had just bitten him.

---

Before appearing back at the hideout, he treated his wound and wrapped it in a bandage so it wouldn't start bleeding again. He didn't want you to see it, even though he knew that was dangerous too. It was dangerous no matter what.

And he was just "lucky" that the zombie bit his arm instead of his hand, because that would have made what might happen to him immediately obvious.

And when he was finally inside? He acted just like always; there were no "strange" changes in his behavior. That evening he was himself, carefree and constantly cracking jokes.

But eventually, little by little, you began to notice the small details about him. The way he was sweating, or how he kept wearing long-sleeved clothes, grew more distant, and even a bit irritable.

You even noticed that Enjin started smoking his cigarettes in packs a day more often. And standing close to him, you could sense some kind of scent, though you couldn't quite tell what exact smell it was.

Meanwhile, Enjin was slowly dying before your eyes while you still didn't know it, even if you might suspect something. He had a fever and constantly felt pain in his infected arm, and the wound was beginning to change. It had turned purple, veins had started turning black around it, and the skin there was beginning to rot.

When you asked what was wrong with him, he brushed it off with, "Oh, nothing, I just caught a cold, everything's fine," even though he knew that nothing had been fine for days since the moment of the bite.

But did that reassure you? No. It only made you suspect Enjin even more and hope that it wasn't what it might be.

You always watched him, right like now, trying to figure out what was wrong with him while this idiot still acted as if everything was fine.