It's late night. On top of my exhaustion, I'm blinded by the absence of light. But I can't stop now.

I've been walking for almost an entire day - although in my current state, this feels more like an eternity. My weary footsteps echo through the desolate, darkly moonlit roads. My previous safehouse was overwhelmed by a straggling horde the day before. I ran, only with a small bugout bag I could salvage while I drowned in desperation and fear.

Finally, I stumble upon a new city, utterly fatigued, parched, and famished. Lost in the suffocating darkness, I desperately search for refuge, until my bleary eyes catch sight of a looming dark silhouette - a mansion, cloaked by the deepest shadow of the night.

Feeling the walls in the dark, I am blessed with luck. This feels like an utter disrespect to the oppressive darkness around me. I managed to grasp the doorknob on my first attempt - and it is unlocked. Fumbling blindly, I confirm that every entry point on the ground floor remains sealed shut. Denying myself of solace, fearful of prying eyes or ears, I determine that my only sanctuary lies on the mansion's upper floor.

I enter the suite, seeking shelter behind a fortress of barricaded doors and windows - the house's entrance, the bedroom's threshold, and ultimately, the final barrier of the bathroom door. Within those confines, I hope for the slightest reminiscence of peace, a fleeting moment of respite from the encroaching chaos outside. I pray that all these barriers that confine me within are enough for me to wake up from my slumber and muster the remaining of my dwindling vigor, in the chance that my new sanctuary is breached by the looming.

With every ounce of strength left in my battered, punished body, I hasten towards my coveted sanctuary, yearning for a sip of the last water drops from the city water supply and eating the remains of my canned dog food.

As I push open the bathroom door, the last portal to my salvation, fate unveils its malevolent mockery against me. I am not the only one who sought refuge within these walls. Another soul had the same idea before, sealing both our fates. Long ago, someone met their demise in this very room. Now, their lifeless corpse stands motionless, a grim sentinel guarding this bathroom. A puppet of chance, devoid of purpose, waiting for an unsuspecting prey - a perfectly set trap, just like a mousetrap anticipates its unwitting mouse.

I swing the door open, a gateway to either salvation or damnation. But in my exhausted state, my famished and sleepless body is unable to react swiftly enough. The reanimated corpse lunges at me, its rotten fangs sinking deep into my jugular.