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                        Not decided                        
                    -by Fluffy Shogun-                     
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                         One-Shot                          
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One-Shot
Placing each foot carefully onto the cobblestone, Eric stalked his way along the abandoned street; the cold air chilled him to the core and made his rapid breath come out in white clouds. Eric pulled his jacket tight around his form. His goal was less than a minute walk down the street but caution told him to slow down and make himself as quiet possible, unless he wanted to be joined by a group of the infected.
Eventually he made it to the building and peered through the windows. The room was painted in a creamy white and was furnished like an average living room; a long crimson settee was propped up against the back wall, beside it was a matching crimson recliner, turned in a way that would allow anyone sitting on it to look at both the T.V. and through the window looking onto the street. A thin layer of dust had settled onto everything in the room and lay undisturbed for, at a guess, a week.
Looks safe enough Eric thought to himself.
Opening the door, Eric slipped silently into the deserted house, his footsteps causing clouds of dust to swirl around his legs. In front of him stood a flight of stairs in the shape of an L, the floor above hidden from those below. Checking the rooms downstairs Eric encountered nothing; no people, no zombies, not even any animals.
I’m not sure what to think of this
Eric removed his machete from its holster and held it in front of him. He made his way to the stairs and climbed his way onto the second floor. When he reached the top Eric heard a sudden crash to his left. Whipping his head to the source, Eric was face to face with a white door that presumably leads to a bedroom. Placing and ear on the painted wood, Eric tried to hear anything else coming from the room. When he heard nothing further Eric grasped the handle and walked into the darkened room.
Almost immediately he feels something latch onto his ankle. Swinging his leg forward in an effort to dislodge the creature brought his worst fears to life. It was one of them. In a burst of adrenaline Eric surged forward and shoved his machete through the Zombie’s skull, piercing it to the wooden floor.
Eric ran to the door and closed it, hoping that there weren’t any more in the building with him. A wave of nausea rolled through him and Eric fell to the floor, gasping for air. Inspecting his foot showed that the bite had pierced his skin and a stream of black blood was flowing down his leg.
GOD DAMN IT! How could I have been so careless?
All hope of surviving or even finding other survivors had disappeared. All he could think about now was the burning sensation crawling its way through his bones, a fire that was slowly eating away at his humanity.
As the heat reached his chest, Eric gave into the virus, finally letting the flames consume him.