[color=fff200][center] [i]The world is burning, the dead rise back to life with an undying and unending hunger. They feel no emotion, no sympathy, no pain, for those that they take, only taste and sound of raw flesh satisfies their never-ending carve. The who are alive in inhabiting the world the ones who all sought out a life of lavish lifestyles or those who simply wanted the experience of raising family to call their own are all running and constantly moving for their lives. Others have managed to keep a foothold held within a secure areas working together to fight and live another day, to hope for a another chance from mother nature's wrath, but then there are others, the oppressors, who want nothing but to fee the pleasure and pain of others without any form of restriction or law to stand in their way. The chance at having their own rules or ways established. New York is now apart of it, swallowed hole, becoming a place of terror and fear for those that still live within it's boundaries. It's a kill or be killed world now. . .[/i] [/center][/color]

The cold room within the fourth floor of a ransacked apartment building was getting colder and colder by the minute due to the time of winter rolling around and soon the city would be in a blanket of white snow. Adrian found this as good thing though, the snow, it was basically another form of water. He could use it as new water source by boiling the pile of snow in a pot filtering out the bacteria in it then save the rest he that didn't drink for later inside some spare water bottles, some to keep him decently clean and some to keep himself hydrated. [b][color=lightblue]"Better then trying to find unopened bottles of water or filter out that. . . sewer water."[/color][/b] He said to himself as he threw another piece of furniture under the makeshift fire, keeping it low though to prevent from being spotted by anything outside.

As he kept stoking the fire, the sound of heavy thudding footfalls began to echo outside the the lone apartment he was camped in. He reached for his crowbar to the left of him then slowly and quietly moved towards the door. He pressed him self against it and looked through the peephole. Two walkers, as he refereed the dead to, were sluggishly roaming the halls unaware to his presence. He moved his hand down towards the locks to double check that they were locked, to which they were, but just for extra measure he backed away from the door, picked up a wooden chair and placed it under the doorknob at an angle to stop from anything coming in. It wouldn't hold for long, but it would give him enough to hurry and escape through the fire escape that lead down into an alley.
 
[b][color=lightblue]"This is getting to be too much."[/color][/b] He let out an exhausted yawn and moved back over to his makeshift cot near his fire. [b][color=lightblue]"Tomorrow will be another day, I'll find a way."[/color][/b] he spoke out again. His last thoughts, before letting sleep take him, was if his father was alive and in good health.