Hey everyone, AsinineGamer here, I made a story a while ago and wanted to know if it was good or not, if you liked it, I could possibly do a series were i make stories every week! ;D

End

The dimly lit room of the doors that were once opened to thousands now are locked and sealed. People used to think these were the safest places, guards, cameras and a silent alarm. But all if it is useless. If the guards ran home to protect their families and the cameras went offline from no electricity, and if you sounded that alarm, no one would come except the thousands (millions?) of undead pouring onto the survivors mauling, biting and kicking until there was nothing left but more and more of the living dead. I put my boot to the door, it slams inward and I step inside. The safest place someone thought they could be in, now one of the most deadly, the bank.






I step inside retching my head back in disgust from the smell. Ito s been long enough to know who ever lived in here is long gone. I hear a soft moaning, maybe not so long gone. I walk the hallways for what seems like hours; checking every room, every drawer; until the moan gets louder and I find a half-dead corpse on the ground. Seems to be an earthquake happened near the bank and this Z got stuck. I take a couple of possible live saving moments (LSM) to look at the poor fellow. He musto ve thought the bank was the safest, ran here boarded everything up; and then starved to death. I take my silenced pistol and place it to his forehead and pull the trigger. Blood comes up like popping a balloon and I immediately duck for cover so I dono t get hit with his infected blood. I walk for a while, smoke a cigar, and have a beer. And once Io m done I pass out. Wasting valuable LSM.






Ito s early next morning. My face is groggy and my eyes are practically of the Z I kill. I walk to the back part of the bank and see it. The thing Io ve been looking for, the safe. Robbers have tried countless times to rob stores only to be thwarted; of course, within the first 72 hours of the infection. People musto ve robbed the bank thinking it made a damn bit of difference. Like money was still worth something. I walk up to the safe, taking my right hand glove off and stroking the safe, almost as if a child. Oh Kenny why? A tear falls upon my cheek as I take out a crumpled up piece of paper. A picture of a tall 6o 3 lean man with a woman 5o 4 with brunet hair; standing in the back of a small child holding a small Asian dog. The inscription reads: Jack, Eve, and Kenny & Bulldozer. o I miss you so mucho I whisper rocking the picture back and forth. After what seems just minutes but in reality is two hours I stop cradling the picture and crank open the safe. My suspicions were correct, all the money; drained dry. o Like I need it where Io m goingo I say to myself. Taking a breath of warm, clean and relatively healthy air and step inside closing the hatch behind me; o 90 secondso I say in my mind. I write a sloppily written survivors note. And take my pistol, taking off the silencer and putting it to my temple. o I love you, Eve & Kennyo I guess this is, the end.

End was inspired by my own imagination and what I mighto ve done if I was in the situation. As this was meant to be a one hit wonder I wono t be making any sequel to this.



Thanks to: Dave for saying it was a good idea.