After realizing his closeness to danger, Draven tried to escape but it was already too late.
He felt an inexplicable stinging pain from his scratched back, mild discomfort spreading throughout his body following the injury.
"Oh, God, no!"
Draven was extremely concerned for his own well-being as he feared he would turn into one of these lifeless walking dead very soon.
"What should I do? I don't want to die!" he panicked.
Unfortunately, he had no time to adjust to his condition as the remaining two zombies inside the room staggered towards him.
Draven gritted his teeth and latched towards them with anger and frustration.
"You pieces of shit! I will never become one of you!"
He cursed out loud as he sent the heavy bed lamp lunging at the bare head of the hungry zombie, killing it immediately.
And with his feet, he easily smashed the head of the crawling one nearby into a meat paste, a rotten one precisely.
But this wasn't the end.
The zombie whose hands had scratched Draven earlier was currently making its way into the room through the opening.
The zombie tripped on a sturdy object close to the door and fell face first to the ground, sounding a low groan.
Taking the opportunity, Draven lunged at the door and killed it before it could gain back its footing.
Just like that, he was able to get rid of the dangers lurking around him.
After ensuring all the zombie was dead and that there was no other around his room, he slammed the door shut and pushed the bed and other heavy objects against it to block any further incursions.
Now the only danger was himself.
"Ahhh..."
Draven felt pain like never before erupting from the injury dealt by the recently deceased zombie.
The pain was like nothing he had ever felt — He felt a strong sting as though he had invaded a busy beehive accompanied by an unbearable burn as though a steamy hot iron was pressed against his back.
It was torturous!
Draven gritted his teeth to stop himself from crying out in pain from the anguish that seemed to intensify by the seconds.
"Think, Draven, think! What should I do now?"
He muttered amidst the grin, his eyes darting across the room.
But there was nothing in it that could help stop the pain and prevent his pending zombification.
In fact, nothing present in the entire world right now, not even resources from the greatest government health facility would be able to prevent his end.
Draven mood dampened as the realization dawned on him.
The end of the world had arrived and he wasn't as fortunate as the main characters of the novel he had read to survive it.
Defeated and depressed by the new unchanging reality, Draven collapsed on the ground.
"Why am I always unfortunate? Was I cursed upon birth? To be riddled with one bad luck after another.."
Draven lamented, tears dripping from his eyes.
All his life, all the good things he ever cherished were taken from him — He lost his parents when he was barely a teenager, his childhood best friend was bitten by a snake and died in his watch, all his crushes were either in a relationship or were interested in girls.
Everytime he works very hard for something, he always ended up losing it to someone who barely works or desire what he suffered for.
It was as though the world were targeting him.
And now that it had successfully taken everything he cherish, it has come for his life.
Tears streamed down even his eyes as he recalled these unfortunate events, his eyes reddened and his face twisted in agony.
The pain his heart felt at the moment was more than the unbearable and inexplicable pain from his back.
The noise of chaos from outside still thundered across.
Cries of those being devoured by the walking dead rang out frequently. The hungry growls and groans of the zombies reverberated.
Frequently, the noise of doors being destroyed by both the walking dead and the current fortunate survivors could be heard.
The smell of rot and dead replaced pure air.
The dark sky replaced the day.
These sounds, smell and appearance instantly became something the whole world would have to adapt to as it has no ceasing.
And amidst this endless chaos was a grieving soul — A soul that had lost all chances of surviving but still holds onto a tiny hope of a miracle.
His tears filled the rough ground in front of him.
The pain continuously reminded him of his pending end and the chaos outside reminded him just how much the world has changed and how unfortunate he was not to experience the full of it.
"Maybe dying is the better choice.."
Draven muttered amidst his sorrowful cries.
Death is eternal slumber, an absence of continuous struggles.
Human would naturally pick peace over struggle, it was an innate instinct.
//"Do you really want to die?"//
A voice appeared in his heart, bearing a tone of authority and power.
Draven thought the voice as nothing but his own mind acting up as he got closer to dying.
But he still responded in a sorrowful tone, "I do not! I want to live. I want to survive."
||"But that is impossible, your soul and body is corrupted and in a few minutes, you would become one of the eternally condemned"||
As the same voice repeated, Draven became a little bit unsure of its origin.
||"What are you willing to sacrifice to avert that possibility?"||
Suddenly the voice asked a question, one that caused Draven expression to freeze as he came to the realization that the voice wasn't his.
He picked up the bloodied bed lamp laying beside him and stood up, immediately maintaining a defensive stance as his gaze observed every corner of his dark room.
But there was nothing on sight except the scattered furniture and the corpse of the walking dead he had slayed.
||"Your life is ending, you will become one of the condemned but I can change it but you should be able to answer a simple question — What are you willing to sacrifice?"||