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You unlock the door and remove the wood you laid against the frame. As the door swings open, you retreat a few steps.

You raise the fire ax. You've been trained to use this weapon. It feels light, and your muscles are relaxed. This should be the same as countless other times you've attacked before. But this is different. This fight means more. This zombie, this thing, has one purpose—to kill.

The zombie lumbers forward, cranes his mouth wide, and lifts his hands. Strands of thick saliva connect his top and bottom rows of teeth, and a long tongue darts out of his mouth like a hissing snake.

Knowing the only way to kill the infected is by destroying the brain, you aim for the head. The tip of the fire ax splits the zombie's skull. A large wad of flesh hangs off of his forehead, exposing brownish-pink brain behind it. His body seizes up, and a low growl rises in his throat. His legs stiffen, but his arms go limp. Like a falling tree, he teeters to the side and crashes to the ground. He stirs, and you step forward and bring the fire ax down once more, ending the zombie's life.