[center][img]http://cfile27.uf.tistory.com/image/99FF7B4D5AB484A204CE69[/img][/center]

[center][color=indianred]
[b]丅[/b]he darkened sky, freckled with stars, would soon disperse. The black hue softening by the second, the sky awakening from its slumber. The morning was always filled with an ominous, brittle silence and for a moment it would feel.. [i]normal[/i]. Birds would release their melodious tunes out into the otherwise silent world, blades of grass were speckled with fresh dew. The sky lit a brilliant peachy tone, blushing as the new day began. The air was fresher, easier to inhale, but you would soon find that things were far from normal. The beauty and tranquility of dawn would erupt in chaos, shrieks that curdled blood would silence the birds music. What was once peaceful, would turn horrific. The restful fog concealing the ravenous beasts that would eagerly begin their search to destroy. 

It has been nearly 5 years since the initial encounter with Toxoplasmosa, the encounter that would eventually be the downfall of the human race. The parasite is at its strongest, devouring through every defense the human body has, taking control of the host within a few measly hours. The infected are at peak population, found roaming mostly in cities and neighborhoods, few stragglers found in wooded or rural areas where farmers would have once called home. They roam in thick packs, often attacking their own in fits of random rage. The smallest pin drop now sets them off, their sight poor but hearing heightened. They're fast unless their host body is impaired or incredibly injured, but even legless their desire to kill is strong, many infected found dragging mere torso's around as a body. Survivors have adapted the best they can, learning to be light-footed, learning that the only way to truly stop an infected is to kill the brain. But who wants to get that close anyways...? Groups have formed, one by the name of Toxo ravaging those who prove to be a threat. They would earn themselves the title of most hated in an apocalyptic world, despised by another well known group of survivors calling themselves PMC. Loners weave their way in and out of the chaos, watching the conflicts that arise within the groups.. reveling in their choice to be alone, despite the elevated dangers.

[i][b]With no rules, no guidance, and man-eating monsters running amok, The world has never been more treacherous than it is now.... [/b][/i]   [/color][/center]