Shattered Hope of a Coward

After dropping Rena and her friends off at the safe room, you wasted no time. You sprinted up the stairs, dodging every zombie in your path with practiced agility. Their groans echoed behind you, but you didn't look back.

"No stopping. Not now."

Your heart pounded in your ears as you ascended floor after floor. When you finally reached the rooftop door, you came to an abrupt halt.

"Thank God..."

The door was shut tight. No blood. No bodies. No signs of a struggle.

A wave of relief washed over you, but only for a moment.

"Nita... please be in there."

You placed your hand on the door, feeling the cool metal beneath your fingertips.

"Here goes nothing." it was locked

You pounded on the door with both fists, your voice echoing across the rooftop.

"Nita! Are you okay? Open the door!"

Silence.

A chilling breeze swept across the rooftop, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart pounded louder than your knocks.

"Damn it, Nita..."

Panic gnawed at your mind as you threw your shoulder against the door, desperate to force it open.

BANG!

The door flew open with a metallic screech, and you stumbled inside.

But the sight that greeted you made your blood run cold.

Standing just a few feet away, a figure turned toward you. Its bloodshot eyes locked onto yours, and its decaying mouth twisted into a grotesque snarl.

"LACHE!"

The undead figure before you—none other than your biological father—lunged forward with a guttural growl.

Stunned, you froze for a brief moment, but instincts kicked in as you swung the pipe at his head. The sickening crack echoed as the impact sent him stumbling back.

Just as you readied yourself to strike again, a voice you knew all too well—filled with sorrow and pain—pierced through the chaos.

"Sam…"

Your sister lay against the wall, her leg bleeding profusely, yet her face bore a bright smile.

Shock and dread filled you as you rushed toward her, tears welling in your eyes. Without hesitation, you grabbed her hands and pulled her into a tight embrace, your body trembling as tears streamed down your face.

With a faint, bittersweet smile, she spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"If only Mom and Dad hadn't fallen for each other… or if we had confessed before they made us siblings… maybe… we wouldn't have drifted apart, even while living under the same roof."

Her words struck you like a bolt of lightning, stirring emotions buried deep within your heart. As she hugged you tighter, her tears soaked into your shirt.

"I love you… I LOVE YOU, Sam," she whispered, her voice breaking with raw emotion.

You couldn't hold back any longer. Tears streamed down your face as you whispered back,

"I love you too, Nita. I love you so much."

But reality pulled you back as your eyes darted to her leg—blood pouring from the wound. Your heart pounded in panic.

"But first… let's get you up. We need to treat your leg," you said urgently, gently lifting her.

Your voice trembled as your worst fear escaped your lips.

"He… he must've bitten you a few minutes ago…"

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, Sam, it's over for me. I tried to escape, but he got me. I've seen what happens to those who get bitten." Despite her tears, a faint smile crossed her lips. "At least I'm still conscious to see you one last time. Please... kiss me, Sam."

You kissed her forehead, holding her close as her warmth began to fade. Fighting back tears, you whispered, "Bite me... let's die together."

Her eyes flared with anger, and she slapped you weakly. "Do you think I'd let you become one of them? Never."

"Then what about you?" you asked, your voice breaking.

She looked into your eyes, her expression filled with sorrow and resolve. "You've killed so many of them to survive... I'm no different now. You have to end it, Sam. Please... before I turn."

You shook your head violently. "No... I can't do that."

She erupted in frustration, her voice trembling with anger and desperation. "Then what? You want me to turn into one of them and slaughter our parents, our friends... our family? Do you think they'd be happy with the idea of us becoming like them? Wandering around... feeding on corpses?"

Her body convulsed, and she coughed up blood, her breaths becoming ragged. "KILL... me... please..." Her voice was barely above a whisper now, her strength fading as she writhed in agony, struggling to hold back the inevitable transformation.

"I can't... I just can't..." you whispered, tears streaming down your face. The terror that had once gripped you in the presence of those monsters was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness. Your heart shattered with every word she spoke. "Take me with you, Nita... I don't want to live without you."

Feeling the changes coursing through her body, her skin growing colder, she mustered the last of her strength and pushed you away. "GO... stay away from me!" she pleaded, her eyes filled with both love and fear. "I... I don't want to hurt you..."

Just a few minutes earlier, after Sam had left the safe room…

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. The safe room, though secure, was far from comfortable. Half-empty bags of junk food were strewn about, along with scattered papers—likely midterm exam sheets that no one cared about anymore. A 3rd-year chemistry professor stood near the door, gripping a shotgun that, judging by its loose posture and the absence of any spare shells nearby, was most likely unloaded.

The professors and a few students huddled in small groups, their faces twisted in frustration and disgust. Their conversation, however, had turned into a collective rant aimed at one person—Sam.

"Such disrespect towards elders," one of the professors grumbled, shaking his head. "Punching a faculty member? Who does he think he is?"

Another chimed in, his tone dripping with disdain. "And did you see the look on his face? It's like he enjoys all of this… smashing zombies as if it's some sick video game. I wouldn't be surprised if he's losing his mind out there."

"Psychopath," a student whispered just loud enough to be heard. "He's treating this like some twisted fantasy."

Rena's fingers clenched into fists at her sides, her jaw tightening with every word spoken against Sam. She stood near the corner with her friends, her eyes downcast but her ears sharp. Every insult, every accusation was like a dagger to her heart. She had seen the pain in Sam's eyes, the weight he carried, and the lengths he had gone to protect everyone—even those who didn't deserve it.

Unable to hold her anger back any longer, Rena muttered under her breath, but loud enough for the entire room to hear, "You're all acting as if you have a clue about what's really going on out there!"

Silence fell over the room. The tension was palpable as all eyes turned toward her. Rena's eyes, usually filled with warmth and charm, now burned with anger and frustration. She had had enough.

One of the professors, clearly agitated, raised his voice. "You think we haven't seen anything? We've seen far more than you could imagine!" His face contorted with frustration, his knuckles white as he gripped his empty shotgun like it was the last piece of authority he had left.

Rena's patience finally snapped. Her eyes blazed with fury as she stepped forward, her voice trembling but resolute. "Who on earth saved us? Was it you?" She pointed her finger around the room, her gaze locking onto every professor and student who had been badmouthing Sam. "Any of you? No! It was him! We were on the brink of death, and he came to our rescue without even knowing who we were!"

Her words echoed through the room, her voice quivering with raw emotion. "You're all calling him a psycho for taking pleasure in killing those things. But if he's so heartless, then tell me…" Her voice cracked slightly, but she pushed through, her eyes misting. "Why is he risking his life to save someone he loves? Why is he still out there, fighting, while all of you cower in here, hoping someone else will fix this nightmare?"

A heavy silence fell over the room, but it was short-lived.

The professor with the shotgun scoffed, his lips curling into a condescending sneer. "An idol spouting some random bullshit after seeing a bit of blood. So what?" His tone was dripping with arrogance as he tapped the butt of the shotgun against the floor. "People eating people… that's all this is. A virus. We've seen outbreaks before. Just shut your mouth and wait a few days."

He leaned back against the wall, clearly convinced of his own words. "There'll be a cure, and everything will go back to normal. Mark my words."

Lara, one of Rena's friends, is the same age as Rena. She has long black hair, is the tallest girl in the room, with a well-built body.

She stood up and began to roam around the safe room, as if searching for something. "It's pointless to talk to them, Rena," she remarked, her voice laced with disgust. "These people are just the type who don't care about their families, children, or even their own parents. Look at them, all feeling relieved just because those things won't come in."

The professor with the shotgun shouted, "Do you know how much I want to meet my son? My wife? They are my everything!"

Lara stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as rage built up inside her. She grabbed a stack of papers—probably exam sheets—and hurled them across the room. The papers flew like a storm, scattering everywhere. She then slammed her fist on a nearby desk, the sound echoing through the room.

"Then how can you all judge someone for trying to save someone they care about?" she yelled, her voice filled with raw anger. "Calling him a psycho? If you truly value your family, you should understand the pain of wanting to reunite with someone he loves!"

Her eyes, burning with intensity, locked onto the professor's, daring him to say another word. The tension in the room became suffocating, her outburst leaving everyone speechless

Silence engulfed the room after Lara's impassioned words. Professor Slyde exchanged a nervous glance with the chemistry professor, sensing that their authority was beginning to slip. The other students and professors shifted uncomfortably, their faces reflecting a mix of doubt and unease.

Lara's piercing gaze swept across the room as if searching for something—or perhaps gauging the worth of the people around her. With a determined stride, she crouched down and rummaged through one of the lower shelves. Her fingers brushed against something cold and metallic.

Click.

Her eyes narrowed as she pulled out a box of shotgun shells.

"Found it," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, she turned and marched toward the chemistry professor who was holding the shotgun. Before he could react, she snatched the weapon from his hands with startling ease.

CLICK-CLACK.

The sound echoed ominously through the room as she expertly loaded the shells into the chamber, her movements swift and precise—too precise for someone who was supposedly just a student.

The room fell deathly silent, all eyes locked on her.

Lara leveled a cold stare at the chemistry professor, her tone sharp and unwavering. "Why wasn't the shotgun loaded, sir?"

Her words sliced through the air like a knife.

The professor, who had spoken so confidently earlier, now looked as though he wanted to melt into the floor. His voice was barely above a whisper as he stammered, "I... I was saving the shells... just in case..."

"In case of what?" Lara's voice rose, her frustration boiling over. "In case the zombies politely give you time to load it before they rip us apart?"

Her words hung heavy in the air, and a cold, uncomfortable realization began to sink in.

The students exchanged wary glances, recalling his earlier words.

"You know what? Your professor is an expert in handling guns, and it's loaded, so I'll take care of this."

But now, that bravado was gone—replaced by nervous stammering and cowardice.

Slowly, the atmosphere in the room shifted.

Trust, which had already been hanging by a thread, snapped. The students no longer looked to the professors for safety or leadership. They had seen the truth—false promises, empty words, and fear-driven incompetence.

Slyde saw this as the perfect moment to seize control. His eyes gleamed with opportunistic intent as he stepped forward, adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat for dramatic effect.

"You can't fool us, Professor," Slyde declared, his voice dripping with false disappointment. "I entrusted you with leadership, only to discover that you can't even handle a simple firearm. You misrepresented yourself to gain the students' trust. Shame on you, sir."

A hushed murmur spread across the room as the chemistry professor's face turned pale. His earlier bravado had evaporated, leaving only the sting of public humiliation.

This is it.

Slyde silently licked his lips, a predatory glint in his eyes. One more push…

Turning to the group, he raised his voice, carefully choosing his words to sway the undecided.

"We need a leader," he proclaimed, his tone commanding yet soothing. "Someone who is transparent, understanding, and—most importantly—reliable. You've all seen how I've stepped up during this crisis. I played a pivotal role in getting us to safety."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment, allowing the weight of his self-proclaimed heroism to settle in.

"If you believe I am the right person to ensure our continued survival," he continued, his voice rising with confidence, "then show your support. Raise your hands and choose me as your leader."

A brief pause followed—a heartbeat of uncertainty.

Then, one by one, hands began to rise.

First the students.

Then, a few hesitant professors followed suit, clearly unwilling to go against the majority.

Within seconds, nearly every hand in the room was raised, sealing Slyde's self-engineered victory.

A smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he took in the sight.

I've got them right where I want them.

Slyde chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk as he surveyed the room.

"Democracy reigns," he sneered. "For those who didn't raise their hands…" He adjusted his glasses, letting the moment linger before adding, his tone dripping with menace, "You're welcome to leave this room. Or—" his eyes narrowed, "you're welcome not to follow my orders."

A chilling silence filled the air as his gaze swept over the hesitant few.

"Just remember," he continued, his voice low and threatening, "if you cause any issues… we can throw you out."

The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air, sending a cold shiver through the group.

His eyes landed on Lara.

"Miss Lara," he said smoothly, extending his hand, "could you please hand me that shotgun?"

Lara didn't respond immediately. Her grip on the weapon tightened as her jaw clenched. She exchanged a glance with Rena, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

Without looking at Slyde, she finally spoke, her voice calm but resolute.

"Do we really need to stay here?" she asked her friends, her tone filled with quiet defiance. "I have a shotgun… and according to Anh, both the 6th and 7th floors have fewer zombies. If we head to the rooftop and regroup with Sam…"

Her eyes hardened with determination.

"I'm sure he'll help us. What do you both think?"

Rena's response was immediate, her voice firm and unwavering.

"Yeah," she said with conviction, her eyes lighting up with hope. "He definitely will, what do you say Ginny?"

Ginny, shorter than Rena and sporting round glasses, had a cute face and a petite frame. Dressed in a skirt and shirt, she was the epitome of a total nerd.

She spoke up, her voice hesitant. "But… how do we get out of here? He's standing right there, and it doesn't look like he plans on moving anytime soon."

Lara's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a smirk as she stepped forward.

"Move aside, Slyde," she said, her tone dripping with confidence. "We're leaving."

Slyde's arrogant grin widened as he licked his lips, his gaze locked onto the shotgun in Lara's hands.

"You can leave," he drawled, his voice smooth yet sinister. "But the gun stays here."

Lara quickly packed some water bottles and shotgun shell boxes into a bag she found tucked away in the corner. Slinging it over her shoulder, she stepped forward and pointed the shotgun directly at Slyde's face.

"Open up," she commanded, her voice cold and unwavering. "Or I'll put a bullet through your brain."

Her imposing frame shielded her friends, standing protectively in front of them.

Just as she was about to move, one of the professors attempted to grab her from behind. But Lara was quicker. She spun around and delivered a devastating flying kick, sending the man crashing to the ground. Without missing a beat, she resumed her stance, the barrel of the shotgun now aimed right at Slyde's forehead.

"Don't push me to become a killer, Slyde," she warned, her eyes narrowing with deadly intent.

Slyde, realizing he had no choice, swallowed hard and slowly opened the door.

Ginny and Rena stepped out first, their hearts pounding as they moved cautiously. Lara followed close behind, her watchful eyes scanning for any signs of danger.

The girls were scared, but one thing was certain—they weren't going back to that eerie cult-like room. Not now. Not ever.

Rena and Lara, with their natural athleticism, led the charge through the zombie-infested hallways. Once they overcame their initial fear, their movements became precise and determined. Ginny, however, who preferred books and indoor activities over physical exertion, relied heavily on her friends for protection as they pressed forward.

Lara was a force to be reckoned with. Not only was she a sports prodigy, but her black belt in karate and firearm training gave her an undeniable advantage. Her tall, well-built physique added to her dominance, allowing her to neutralize any zombie that dared approach before it could get too close.

Rena, while physically fit and agile thanks to her rigorous idol training, lacked formal combat skills. Still, her sharp reflexes and nimbleness kept her one step ahead of danger, helping her evade the sluggish but relentless undead.

The trio maintained a tight formation as they cautiously ascended the rooftop stairs—Rena taking the lead, Ginny sheltered in the middle, and Lara covering the rear, her shotgun primed and ready.

The eerie silence was shattered by a sudden, guttural moan echoing through the stairwell.

"Nita..."

A male voice called out, strained and agonizing, sending a shiver down their spines.

Rena froze. Her mind instantly flashed back to the horrifying moment when her personal bodyguard—once her loyal protector—succumbed to the infection and turned into one of those monsters.

Her pulse quickened as the memories surged, clouding her focus. Ginny, sensing her distress, clutched Rena's shirt tightly. Lara's grip on the shotgun tightened as her eyes scanned their surroundings, ready for any threat.

"That… voice…" Rena murmured, her words barely audible.

"Keep moving," Lara urged softly, her tone firm yet reassuring. "We're almost there."

The trio burst onto the rooftop, only to be met with a chilling sight.

A lone zombie staggered toward Sam, who stood motionless, his arms outstretched as though surrendering to fate. His eyes, hollow and lifeless, reflected a deep, unspoken anguish.

"Sam!" Rena gasped, her voice barely louder than the wind that swept across the rooftop.

Lara took control instantly. "Rena, get to Sam! Move him away! Ginny, stay close and watch their backs!" Her voice was steady but urgent, cutting through the chaos.

Rena sprinted toward Sam without hesitation, while Ginny followed closely behind, her heart pounding in her chest.

Lara advanced toward the approaching zombie, her eyes burning with cold determination. She swung the shotgun with deadly precision, smashing the stock against the zombie's head. The force sent the creature tumbling to the ground, its grotesque form landing with a sickening thud.

But she wasn't done.

Lara spotted the metal pipe Sam had been using and swiftly grabbed it. With unrelenting ferocity, she delivered a flurry of crushing blows. The sickening crunch of bone echoed across the rooftop as the zombie's skull caved in.

A final, brutal strike split its head wide open, sending a spray of dark, coagulated blood splattering across her body—and yours.

The world seemed to slow as your eyes fell on Nita's lifeless form. The painful reality struck like a dagger to your heart, suffocating the air from your lungs.

You turned to Lara, your expression a twisted mixture of agony and disbelief.

"Why… why did you stop her?"

Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper, but the raw desperation in your words echoed louder than any scream.

Lara's voice was calm but firm.

"To save you," she replied softly.

Your frustration boiled over.

"I didn't ask you to save me," you snapped, your voice cracking as anger and grief clashed within you.

Lara's gaze softened, her expression clouded with guilt.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "but… we need you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you finally let go of the emotions you had been suppressing.

"You need me?" Your voice was laced with bitterness. "You think I'm some kind of hero? Some brave guy who rushes in to save the day?"

You let out a hollow, shaky laugh.

"When I saw them for the first time, I nearly pissed myself. I cried like a damn kid, thinking it was the end of the world. I wasn't brave—I was terrified. I only kept moving because…"

Your voice faltered.

"Because of her."

You glanced at Nita's lifeless body, your heart aching.

"Every step I took… I was just desperate to find her. To make sure she was alive. But now…"

A long, heavy sigh escaped your lips, weighted with sorrow and resignation.

"And for what? To find her like this…"

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, your body trembling.

"You should… you should find someone else. Someone who isn't a coward like me."

A forced, bitter chuckle escaped you as the words left your mouth.

Just then, a vibration buzzed in your pocket.

Ding. New message from Mom.

Your heart skipped a beat at the familiar chime of a notification.

Without hesitation, you unlocked your phone and opened the message.

A voice message.

You lowered the volume slightly and pressed play.

"Hi Sam, it's Mom. I just wanted to let you know I'll be traveling to America for a few days for a company project. I'm sending this voice message since I know you're in class."

Hearing her voice again made your throat tighten.

"One, take care of your sister. Two, stay safe. And three… please don't fight with her, just for these three days, my sweet boy."

You paused the message, your hand trembling as you wiped away the tears clouding your vision. A faint smile touched your lips, the warmth of her voice momentarily soothing your shattered heart.

But the moment of solace was short-lived.

You pressed play again.

"I had a talk with Lache," her voice continued, softer now. "He's changed a lot, Sam. He says he wants to meet us again. What do you think? Should we—"

A sudden, blood-curdling sound echoed through the message.

Low, guttural growls.

Your mother's voice shifted from calm to panic.

"Who… who are you?!" she shouted. Her breathing grew ragged.

"Someone help me! Arya… HELP ME!"

A sickening series of sounds followed—

Bone cracking. Flesh tearing.

Wet, squelching noises that made bile rise in your throat.

The message cut off.

Silence filled the air, but your mind echoed with the horrifying last moments of your mother's voice.

Your hand grew numb, your phone slipping from your fingers as the reality sank in.

You dialed your mom's number again.

"The number you're trying to reach is currently unreachable."

You tried once more. And again. And again.

Same message.

Each time, the automated voice felt colder, more distant… like it was confirming what you already feared.

Your grip on the phone tightened until your knuckles turned white. Yet, no matter how many times you called, there was no answer.

Rena, Ginny, and Lara watched you silently, their faces etched with concern.

But their sympathy felt like a distant echo.

You were drowning.

Lost in a sea of grief, your mind spiraling into a void of hopelessness.

Then, without warning… you laughed.

A hollow, broken sound echoed across the rooftop.

"Hahaha…"

You stood up, your laughter growing louder, more unhinged.

"My mom's dead. My sister's dead. And that guy over there… my father? Dead."

You pointed vaguely toward the chaos below, your voice dripping with bitter amusement.

"Haha… what's left for me, huh?"

Your eyes, hollow and devoid of life, turned toward the railing.

"Maybe if I jump…"

You took slow, unsteady steps toward the edge, each one heavier than the last.

"Do I die if I jump from here?"

The wind whipped against your face as you approached the edge.

Your body felt numb. Your mind… empty.

For a moment, it felt so easy. Just one step. And the pain would be over.

Lara sprinted, her heart pounding, her breath ragged.

"No!"

She reached you just in time—grabbing your arm, yanking you back from the ledge.

You stumbled, her grip firm as she pulled you away from the edge.

But instead of gratitude…

You lashed out.

A punch landed squarely on her chest.

"Why the hell are you stopping me?!"

Your voice cracked, a mixture of anger, confusion, and raw desperation spilling out.

Lara staggered back, coughing as she clutched her chest. But she didn't back down.

She straightened up, her eyes locked on yours—steady, unyielding.

"We need you, Sam," she murmured, her voice strained but resolute.

"I DON'T NEED YOU!"

The words exploded out of you, louder than you intended.

Tears streamed down your face, your voice trembling with agony.

"I don't need anyone…"

Your body shook, not from anger, but from the crushing weight of grief pressing down on you.

Tears streamed down your face without restraint as you gazed at the sky. "My mom, dad, sister, my love... everyone's gone. I don't have a reason to keep fighting," you choked out between sobs. "Just leave me... I won't be of any use to you all. Find someone else," you pleaded, before collapsing to the ground where you stood. "Please... just leave me."

At the same time, your zombie father stirred and began crawling toward the girls. Rena, her face pale but determined, stepped forward.

"I'll take care of it," she murmured, her grip tightening on the pipe.

With all her strength, she swung, the pipe connecting with a sickening crunch that sent the zombie sprawling. But it wasn't enough. Gritting her teeth, she raised the pipe again and brought it down, over and over. Each strike echoed through the rooftop, until the zombie's head finally exploded into fragments.

The sight of your father's skull bursting open, bits of blood and bone splattering everywhere, shattered what was left of your sanity. Your mind went blank.

You collapsed to the ground, as lifeless as the creatures you had been fighting.

Lara walked toward you and lifted you up, her arms trembling slightly under your weight.

You collapsed again. Undeterred, she pulled you up a second time. When you fell once more, her frustration grew. This time, with a sigh of exasperation, she hoisted you up with one hand and delivered a sharp slap across your face.

Still, nothing.

Her eyes narrowed. Desperate, she clenched her fist and punched you, but you remained unresponsive—completely lost in your mind.

Lara's expression softened as she held you upright with one hand, her other hand gently lifting your face. Her thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a trace of blood. Then, without hesitation, she leaned in and kissed you.

The warmth of her lips, soft yet firm, jolted you out of your daze. Your thoughts snapped back to the present, the fog of despair lifting.

"What the hell?" You pushed her back, your eyes wide with confusion. "Why are you doing this?"Your voice was laced with frustration as you took a step back. 

Lara's voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "I love you," she confessed, her eyes filled with sincerity and warmth.

You stood there, frozen, utterly bewildered by her sudden confession. Ginny's wide-eyed expression showed she was just as overwhelmed, while Rena stood in stunned silence, unable to process the unexpected turn of events.

Lara took a hesitant step closer. "I'm not saying this out of pity," she continued, her tone steady but her eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability. "From the moment you came into class and did everything you could to protect us... even when things looked hopeless... I couldn't help but fall for you."

Her gaze softened as she looked into your eyes. "When I saw how desperately you fought to find your friend, it made me respect you even more. But... I was too scared to speak up back then. You gave me strength when I needed it most. And by the time I worked up the courage to tell you..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes glistening. "You had already left."

She paused, taking a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "But now, you're right here, standing in front of me again." Her voice was filled with quiet determination. "And this time... I won't let you slip away."

Her lips quivered slightly, but her words were firm. "I'm not asking you to forget what you've lost. I just want you to know... that there's a woman who feels happiness just because you exist."

Overwhelmed by everything unfolding before you, you stood frozen, unable to find the right words. Tears streamed down your face as a storm of emotions battered your mind.

Your first love lay lifeless on the ground, her head split in two—a gruesome sight you couldn't erase from your memory. The one who had done that now stood before you, making a shocking confession.

Confusion. Horror. Grief.

And then... the voice message. The sound of your mother's frantic plea, followed by the sickening noises of bone cracking and flesh tearing.

As if that wasn't enough, your own biological father—now a mindless, soulless zombie—had been killed right before your eyes.

It was too much.

You stumbled back, your legs trembling as you leaned against the railing for support. A bitter chuckle escaped your lips, hollow and broken. "What timing you've got," you murmured, your voice laced with disbelief and exhaustion.

You stared at Lara, your expression a twisted mix of frustration and sorrow. "You managed to drain the last ounce of courage I had left... even to jump."

Your voice grew softer, but the pain in your words was undeniable. "And now... you're playing unfair. Telling me that a woman is happy... just because I exist?"

You let out another bitter laugh, shaking your head as tears blurred your vision. "Stop lying to me..."

Rena's voice broke as she raised it, her tears flowing uncontrollably. "I'm just... so relieved you're alive," she choked out, her words barely audible through her sobs. "Because of you... the three of us are still here. We're not going anywhere, Sam. You can count on us... always."

Ginny, her glasses fogged from crying, spoke softly, her voice trembling. "Thank you, Sam... Please... please, live."

Their words echoed in your ears, but the weight of everything still crushed your heart. You slowly sank to the ground, leaning against the railing, your body drained of strength. Your head hung low, eyes fixed on your lap as silent tears dripped down your face.

"Please..." Your voice was barely above a whisper, broken and filled with despair. "Don't give hope... to a coward like me."

The three girls moved closer without hesitation. One by one, they knelt beside you, wrapping their arms around you, their warmth pressing against your trembling body.

"We won't leave you," they whispered in unison, their voices gentle yet unwavering, their embrace tightening around you.

For a moment, you fought it—fought the warmth, the comfort—but their unwavering presence melted the walls you had built. The weight pressing down on your heart slowly lifted, just enough for the tears to finally break free.

The weight you carried... the pain, the fear, the hopelessness... it all came crashing down. Your body shook, and before you could stop yourself, sobs burst from your chest—raw and uncontrollable just like who found his family after getting lost on the way.