It's been weeks, maybe even months when it all happened. This world has been doomed by their own inhabitants, and now they run for their lives. They run from what they created themselves! They run from... The death...
My name is Steven, 28 years old and have been running for my life ever since the day it all began. Perhaps it is what it is, perhaps this is judgement from god, if there ever was a god... My faith in him has been rather low lately because of the fact that when I needed him the most, he abbandoned me and let those I held dear die within my arms.
Now it is time for another day, but what will it bring? More death? Or perhaps a brighter future?



The city isn't what it used to be anymore after the army came. They tried to take down those who rose up again after they had died, but it was in vain. They got obliterated by them and in the end joined their ranks. Now this city is doomed, they walk within the streets and hunt those who try to survive.
There were quite some survivors within this city but one by one they all fell, they were torn apart by those things... In the news they were called the undead, those who walk this earth after they passed away. I call them Walkers, beings who aren't even worth being called human anymore...
When I noticed that the survivors began to decrease, I knew I had to do something... Something for this city to atleast make it liveable for those who stayed in this city and those who will come to this city...
So I did what most would do, searched trough the entire town for a suitable spot to make a shelter for those who would need it.



In my search I found a few survivors who wanted to join the cause, so now I had some to talk to and to discuss a suitable spot with.
But it didn't lasted long, we walked straight into a horde of Walkers... Only I made it out... Perhaps one day there will a spot where we can be safe...
My search continued and I made asure that this time I would keep my eyes open for every possible group of Walkers, survivors or a suitable spot for a sanctuary. Till now I've searched high and low and even had to kill a few of these bastards to remain safe...
Perhaps this town is just not suitable for a sanctuary, but I shall try and make asure those who are still here will gain a place where they can be safe! For now, I shall wander these streets untill the day that I find it.

"You okay Nathan?" Miles called out as he and Kim turned the corner. Nathan stood over the mangled corpse of a viral at his feet. His titanium crowbar was stained the sleek crimson colour of blood. He withdrew the end from the eye socket of the body and strapped it back on his backpack. There was no point in washing the blood off. Nathan had maintained an average of six kills a day. The fear of knowing each encounter could be his last had worn off. This was there life now.

He fondled his breast pocket for a pack of cigarettes before lighting one up. Kim and Miles came closer. "Bum me one?" Miles asked, cutting the tension.

"No way kid. These things can kill you. There's enough of that going on already." Nathan said, taking a puff.

"Where are we going again?" Kim asked.

"A lot of those rich types got cabins or houses along the coast. We should be able to get some basic supplies. At least get out of downtown by nightfall." He examined the two. He wouldn't have expected them to be strong but they had proven themselves to be capable. Resourceful. Fighters. Kim was a young woman, part Thai, who spent the majority of her life just up north in Whiterock. Daring, but reckless. She was clever however. She'd studied medicine at the University of British Columbia before the outbreak. She was an asset. She stood clad in a blue hoodie and jeans, raven hair tied back in a ponytail. She kept a screwdriver and her golfclub on hand constantly.

Miles was her opposite. Tall and broad, with dark skin, brown eyes and curly black hair that seemed to stick right up. He was dressed in an old Supersonics T shirt and khakis. A massive hiking backpack was on his back, loaded with supplies, and he held onto a compound bow, though he was a terrible shot. He relied more on his hatchet. He was from Seattle and studied chemistry in University. He was more cautious and observant than Kim. The two were different, but perhaps that's why they fell in love.

"How much time do we have?" Miles asked.

"A few hours at most. We better move fast. God knows how bad those bastards get by sunset." Downtown Vancouver was a labyrinth of alleys, streets and dead ends. Even those who'd lived their for years often got lost. But in a world like this, one wrong turn can lead to your own untimely demise.