So here we are. Me, the quiet misanthrope with an affinity for destroying others happiness. Her, the obnoxious spunkster with a hankering for bad music and weak trends. How did we end up here, how did we make it. Why haven't I hit her with the break I carry. The jibber jabber that spews from her face is a never ending tirade of nonsense and gossip on things that matter no more. And even if those things were around anymore, they'd be so far outside of my interests, I'd ask her to take a jump off of a very high bridge.

That's us, what an odd pair. And this is what we do, we smash the faces of our enemies. They seem to be growing in numbers. Ever since the outbreak, there have been fewer and fewer.. hrmm.. humans, I guess. These things we break, these things we destroy, they are not human. They are wasted, cracking prisons. They hide a deformity, a disease. I don't know what it is, but things just aren't the same anymore. It started just as it did in the movies. One or two weary bodies, come into a decent size town, bite the fuck out of some kid, or some innocent, and spread the virus. It moves faster than the movies showed. Maybe a few days went by and it had consumed so much. My home town, the county, the state, the country. Europe was fucked faster and harder than we were. I haven't heard anything of any survivors over there. Poor chaps. This great rock we named home. This rock we abused. This rock we took for granted. It breathed brimstone back on us man. In the worst way.

Me and this twit, we consider our purpose to be protectors. Seekers of the unfortunate, others who breathe, others with a heart beat. We find them. We save them if necessary. Of course this takes force. We show them how to survive. How to mend wounds. How to sustain. How to take back humanity and wash this demon off our streets. We have shanty towns made out of gated communities. It's the one way we've found safety. And it is nice that so many rich had tried to create these tiny fortresses to keep the varmin out. If they saw how we were using them, maybe they'd be proud of what they created. To bad we weren't given the time to show them how to protect what they had created, they were sitting on safety and the dead things came right in and wiped these unprepared dipshits out. Ho humm, time goes on.

We are gathering more survivors that are down with our cause, our ethos. We started as two, I think the recent count put as at over thirty. I was torn now, as our unanimous commander, on what to do with our team. Some have requested we create a base, a campus of our own, somewhere to dub home. And others are asking for us to take this fight to war status. To hunt, house by house, street by street, these zombies. To bash the brains out of every head. To stop this thing from spreading. To round up weapons and create an army of destroyers to purge this out of existence. It wasn't a hard choice. I wanted something for my kids to grow into. A home.

And the one way I saw them having a home, is without this scourge. So here we stand, me, the twit, and our army. On the rise of this day. Armed with bats, bricks, the few guns we have found, and pride. We can do this, we can send this back to it's cage. We can wipe this out. And it starts now.