The zombies ruled the world.

That statement alone should have elicited a laugh of derision, but it was no longer a joke; the infected humans now swarmed through the land, obliterating everything in their path.

The scant few survivors of the undead apocalypse learned quickly how to stay alive in this living hell. Avoid cities, keep on the move, and if you find zombies, run like a madman, for even if the greatest warrior stood and fought valiantly against these foes, they would still slash and devour him, flesh and blood, as if his body were made up of the nectar of the gods. If you didn’t fall to the infecting bite and turn into one of them, their brute, unfeeling strength would just smash your head in, as if it were an overripe apple. That is, of course, if they didn’t just rip you in half.

The survivors would eventually seek others out, perhaps hoping their common goal of survival could bond them together. Ultimately, however, when it came down to facing those dreadful figures, you found that it was each man for himself, becoming devoid of allegiances and conscience, and that the survival of oneself overrode any concept of human companionship or loyalty.

However they tried to conceal this in illusions and claims of wisdom and practicality, in the end they could not deny to themselves, who can sometimes be the harshest judges of character, that they simply wanted to stay alive, and who cared who dies in the pursuit of that?

How sad it is, that the human instinct of self-preservation has overridden everything else in this harsh wasteland. Or perhaps, it was always like that, and it was only with the destruction of so many to truly reveal this flaw. Perhaps the humans that survive may seek in the future some magical cure for the abominations that walk the land, but one suspects that it will take noble souls of utter selflessness to join together to seek such an impossible solution.

So for now, the zombies still rule the earth.