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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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I had sleep in late that day, it was 1 p.m. when I finally woke. It was quiet, eeriely so even for small suburban area, I flick on the T.V. and what I saw shocked me. At first I thought it was a joke, some big elaborate prank, every channel was full of news reports of the "Walking Dead". I laughed it off before heading outside, thats when I recieved the shock of my life- the streets were chaotic yet devoid of life. Dead bodies lay strew about, riped apart beyond recognition. I spoted Blake, a friend of mind, wondering slowly through the carnage - he was covered in blood and something seemed a bit off but I ran to him anyway. It was nearly too late when I finally relised what was wrong: his eyes were filled with an animal hunger, his right arm was shattered and layed lifeless at his side- he lunged at me with the good arm his blood caked fingernails riping into my flesh as I scream and jerked away. And then I ran, ran for what seemed like ages. I had no idea where I was going, nor did I care, I just ran, ran untill my legs gave out and fell panting onto the pavement- then I blacked out.

 

When I came to I had no idea where I was but it was night and those things were everywhere, I needed to find other surviors, I needed to find safety, I needed to find guns...lots of them. So now I wander, defenesless, cold, and scared- looking for anyone who surivied the horror that befell the world today.

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