Hello dragons.
I'm here.
There are no symptoms. Not... yet. And the zombies seem to be ignoring me...
However, I'm still not the hero-of-the-apocalypse, super-survivor that you expect me to be...
Remember, I'm naturally unsociable, so I don't really want to spend time with humans alive or dead.
Even climbing down the exit ladder to a group of survivors might still get me...
Eaten.
Darn it all... I'm probably one of the worst people to be blessed by this infected invulnerability.
Any other survivor might walk the rotting streets gathering recyclables and coin-like objects...
Yet I just... Take no risks.
Stay indoors and let the infected stagger past my boarded up window. It's just... me?
There are so many ways to die! What if a riot-prepared deathsquad captain gets trigger happy?
I would consume Pb.
Lives are too precious to just throw away in the name of cans or bottle tops. That's the currency of armeggedon.
Virtual deathwish. Figurative suicide. Theoretical hara-kiri. All in the name of 'money'.
Does wealth mean anything nowadays? Surely an intact life means more than recyclable materials assigned value.
And one more thi... maybe I'm just being a wuss.
You're probably judging me right now. Well it's clear that I'm not welcome here any more then. Goodbye.
REMAIN INDOORS