You could see the the full moon on the sky, shining so bright that you could make out anything you see. It's beautiful moonlight was suddenly assaulted by black ashes going up. Underneath these ashes were bright red dots flickering on and off, and underneath these was a house engulfed in flames. The door of this house was left right open, allowing anyone to see a small coffin in the centre of the living room. A photo of Quick Fangs was placed in front of this coffin, and it didn't take long before it also went up in flames.
     I sat in front ofthe burning house. Keeping myself warm from the cold. I burned it all; the memories, the building, the documents related to finding a cure to the virus; I burned it all. Even with that, flashes of Quick Fangs popped unto my head repeatedly. The only thing I did was to cry and make no noise. I stared at the house for a very long time, crying, lost in my thoughts, remembering the painful memories, and engulfed in despair. Later on I smiled, and for no particular reason, slowly and steadily, I laughed.
     From that day on I was no longer myself. I accepted the fate of being alone, else anyone who was willing to help me was courting death. There was no point trying to protect someone you love when the sequence still repeats itself. They will always die, and there would be nothing I could do. Rather than watch thmn die slowly before my very eyes, I chose to dissociate myself from the world.
     Me, who had a distaste to Alcohol, could recall the flavour of every bottle I drank. Me, who was a peaceful man, would turn up the volumes of loud speakers to draw the zombies attentions. Me, who didn't really like using guns, was already spraying bullets into the multiple waves of the undead. I laughed my heart out during the chaos. My madness knew no bounds as I continued the mindless killings for days. But everything I did was all useless.
     At first I thought I found joy in killing these things, but the more I killed, the more gloomy I became. It's useless, says the Philosopher. It's all useless. There was no reward, no honour, no glory, no fame to benefit from my actions. The more I thought about this realisation, the more saddened I became. In the end, it didn't matter.
     Everywhere I looked, there was nothing more than corpses and blood. The bodies silently laughed at me, knowing fully well that the truth was indeed bitter. I lost Ana, the most important person in the whole world. I lost Blue, the most dedicated Christian that didn't deserve to die. I lost Quick Fangs, the dog with a sad history. I couldn't find Ana, I watched Blue die, and I had no choice but to take the life of Quick Fangs.
     Finding the cure to the virus? Furtile. Everyone acquitted with me were already dead. I knew I shouldn't be giving up on finding a vaccine to end the plague, but there was no point anymore. The enemy kept watch on all my movements. Surely if I had continued trying to find the cure it would be nothing but chasing the wind. Maybe I would eventually find the cure though, but just one tragic moment was just needed to destroy that hope. Useless, useless, says the Philosopher. It is all useless.
     Weeks passed by without me counting. I didn't payed any attention to my own body's improvement. Slowly I was getting stronger, my intelligence sharper, my senses enhanced, my insanity upgraded. I could kill zombies with my bare hands. Just snap the neck or break open the jaws. Punched a zombie's head so hard against the wall that it's skull broke and it's brains splattered everywhere. I used more of bruteforce than knives or guns. To top it all, I even took down a Crusher with my bare hands. Before I needed to use at least a gun or probably a sharp blade, but they weren't needed as my fists became powerful enough to break its rib cage from the outside. I remembered the startled screams it made as it fell heavily backwards to the ground with so much pain. The human he thought would make a fine meal was a demon in sheep clothing. I pounced upon it and tore its flesh apart with my long, sharp nails. I even bit through its neck and made a fountain of blood gush out from the injury. I was no longer human, and calling me an animal was invalid as well.
     Minutes later, as I rested my back against the dead zombie, soaked in blood, my previous, peaceful life flashed before me. A boy born into the world to witness his mother abandoning his father. Finished highschool, graduated from the University with flying colours, became a scientist, served the military along with his father, earned a name for himself there, and engaged to the beautiful woman in the world. I was contented. Yes, I needed nothing else more. I just wanted to live out the rest of my days with no worries, no fear, no sadness, no anxiety. And all it took to take away that happiness was an experimental failure, an infected fiance, and an epidemic across the globe.
     Now I live in a world of struggle. Anything that trys to help me dies right in front of my eyes. They are right there in front of me. I try so hard to save them but it was as useless as chasing the wind. They eventually die; man eventually dies anyway, right? What's the point in saving them if they are going to die anyway. Man can't save man from death. It is inevitable, why try to survive anyway? There was no point living anyway. It's better to be dead, so that you can finally be at peace and escape from the terrors of being alive.

***

     A lot of broken cars and trucks were shattered across the road. At the end of the road was a square 4-story building that used to be an hotel. In front of the building were military armoured cars and trucks that had a lot of weaponry in them. No soldiers around, only dried blood. On both sides of the building were other buildings, and the road stops right in front of this hotel, how absurd.
     It didn't mattered much to me though. I had a strong and firm rope with me. I entered the building and checked to see if there were any zombies around. Again, absurdly, there weren't any around. Again I ignored the thought and proceeded towards the thrid floor. Most of the walls and floors had large holes inbetween, with one very large hole on the first floor and at the centre, leading to where I'd call the abyss.
     I entered a room that was a bit clean and was only ruined by cobwebs at the corners. I immediately formed a lasso from the rope and tied the other end of the rope to a fan hanged on the ceiling. I got a stool from beside the bed and put it underneath the dangling rope. I stood on the stool and put my hend through the lasso. Fastening it round my head, I thought out the promises I made, the happiness and sorrows of my life, the people that I've met and now they are gone, the present state of the world and the consequences of my decision. I was tired of the struggle; my existence meant death to anyone close to me, and the only solution to that problem was to end my life.
     I kicked the stool away from me and saw myself battling between life and death. My vision was becoming darker as I dangled in the air. In all this I was surprisingly smiling, because at least it can all end, and I can finally meet the others and apologise for the mistakes I've caused. Yes, I thought to myself. This was the best way.
     As my life was slowly coming to any end, soft but heavy footsteps could be heard outside the room. I managed to take a peak at the door to see a figure dressed completely in black, with a black hook also covering the face in darkness. It brought out a gun hidden in his coat and immediately opened fire.
     I saw myself landing on the fall with a heavy thud and panting loudly.
     The figure pounced upon me and subdued me immediately.
     I tried to talk but couldn't as I had nearly crushed my windpipe.
     I felt a needle piercing my skin and something being injected inside me. Before I blacked out, the figure whispered closely into my ear," Don't be in a rush to die, Joe. The real fun is about to start".