A Welcome Displeasure

It seems like forever ago, the day the world lost itself to human chaos, paranoia, and the insanity that claimed every helpless being.
The one’s that made up excuses to shield them from the reality of what had happened were the ones that died first. In those days, it took longer for the dead to come back. Made it easier for us survivors to get around. Of course, they never stayed dead..
It’s quite a sight to see your mother’s bloated, decaying, half-eaten corpse come shambling towards you. What the hell are you supposed to do? Run away? Cry? Kill…it? You thought you had locked her safely away in the basement. Turns out they’re stronger than you think.
Grab your dad’s pistol that’s been under your pillow, flip the safety off, both hands gripping the trigger and the butt. Aim for the head, don’t close your eyes you pussy! Pull the trigger, just do it, that thing is not your mother. The shot reverberates throughout the house, your ears begin to ring, the recoil knocks your arms back.
You missed! Shot her in the damn shoulder! Fine, she’s on the ground, grab your bag, the ammo, that Katana you had above your bed and get the fuck out. It’s not safe anymore. The moans you’ve been hearing are getting closer, they can smell you. Just fucking go…