Chapter 1
Music, what can we describe as music? A passion, a gift? No music is a god damn curse. Can't hear any music any more, not after the invasion of the undead. Fuck I forgot to take shifts, Chris is gonna be mad at me. He yells at me. Built-in anger is getting filled up. My instrument isn't pointing at the undead no more, no its faced at the true enemy of this world. Our food rations going low, and so is our ammo. Chris says that it's just a scratch, that was yesterday, he is becoming more sick by the hour. He tells me that I should kill him. I don't want to. We have come this far, lived this long. We told each other we will die of old age, what a lie. music fills my ears at the wrong moment. Chris dies of disease not by human. My life filled with music is now gone. All I can hear now is the moans of those sick fucks. The anger is fading, I feel as if I would not survive long. My gut is making undead noises. 1 bullet, thats all it takes, 1 bullet. My life has started as a intrusive little boy, to a 34 year old man who think that life is not important anymore. Clear my mind and pull the trigger in my head BANG. No more music, no more Chris, and no more undead. I feel my soul leaving my body, I see my body getting up staring as if it is staring at me. It moves along. I feel no hunger, no sorrow. The music begins, the conductor starts the music, violins and trumpets begin. I see the light. I feel my soul coming to peace.
Music continues...