I sat cross-legged in the middle of my damp cell, gazing blankly past the bars separating me from my freedom at the map posted on the wall six feet away.

Nowadays I can't tell if I'm feeling lightheaded from the blood loss or the lack of food and water, but I've grown used to it. What I have not grown used to was the searing pain on my wrists. After weeks, months, maybe years, of the same excruciating process, you'd think that I'd be numb to the torture that they inflicted upon me daily. But no, it hurt the same every time.

I heard footsteps shuffling into the room, breaking me out of my inner monologue and self pity.

"You here for your daily collection, Gongwon?" I called out to his shambling silhouette, he whirled around, revealing the chunk of his abdomen that was now missing, his intestines freely tumbling out of his body. "Oh, gross. I guess they went to town on you..." I scowled.

"Gongwon" began to snarl, attempting to reach me through the bars of the cell. His attempts were futile of course, but he kept trying. Eventually, a scream from outside of the room caught his attention and he shambled out towards the noise, but not before knocking the key to my cell off of the desk in front of him.

It slid just within my reach so after I made sure the coast was clear, I snatched the key off of the floor.

I was shaking as I unlocked my cell. Whether it was the excitement from the idea of freedom, the adrenaline, or both that triggered such trembling, I'll never know. The one thing that I did know was that I was going to leave and never look back.

I exited the holding cell room for the first time in what seemed like forever. A huge grin was plastered on my face as I whizzed past the zombies that had overrun the bunker, paying little to no mind to them as their late reactions left them clawing at me seconds after I had passed them.

It seems as though most of the people here either evacuated or were turned. Honestly, I didn't care what happened to any of the residents of this godforsaken bunker, they could all burn in hell for all I care.

My first stop was the infirmary. I grabbed the emergency backpack there and loaded it up with anything useful that I could find: bandages, pain killers, antibiotics, etc. Then, I bandaged up my wrists to prevent my wounds from reopening.

My next stop was the food storage. I snatched a couple of bottles of water and a shit ton of canned beans, all the while stuffing my face with saltine crackers and water.

My last stop was the artillery room only to find it wiped clean of almost all weapons. I salvaged a sniper rifle and lucky for me, a bow and a quiver of arrows.

You see, after the movie Brave came out in theaters, I got obsessed with Merida and her archery skills. I begged (practically forced) my mom to pay for archery lessons. In my defense, I was the best archer in my teacher's classes.

There was also a lot of ammo for guns that were already taken lying around suggesting that people were in way too much of a hurry to stock up on anything but the weapons themselves. Those are the people who aren't going to go very far; I'll give them a couple of days, tops.

Since I had plenty of ammo to spare, probably more than I should carry, I decided to practice using my new sniper rifle on the upper balconies that looked over the center open space of the huge bunker. As much as I wanted to leave right away, I knew that I wouldn't last a minute outside if I didn't know how to protect myself. It was an exhilarating experience, but frustrating at the same time considering that I had never shot a real, functioning gun in my life up until that moment.

I struggled for a good hour until I realized that I could use the same breathing and aiming techniques I used for archery. Then I got a little better at hitting my target; their heads.

After an hour of more target practice, and after I started feeling like a Katniss 2.0 with a bow and arrow and a gun, I decided that I should leave the bunker.

I headed out the front door, feeling that the air was humid but cool, and the ground was muddy, suggesting that it was the spring time. Then I moved forward a couple of steps, closing the door behind me. I turned around for what I hoped was the last time, noticing the that iron cast door had  "SAFEHAVEN" written on it messily in bright yellow paint. I snorted and decided to leave my final touch on this hellhole. Picking up a good handful of mud off the ground, I smeared "OVERRUN" in English over the obnoxious bright yellow as a sort of parting gift.

Then I walked into the woods towards what I hoped was the city of Seoul.