(Seán's P.O.V.)

It's been three and a half months since all hell broke loose and honestly, I'm surprised we've made it this far. How we're different, I don't know. All I know is that everyone we knew and loved is dead, and zombies stalk the streets both day and night. Zombies that are void of any human aspect, except for hunger. That's all they know. Hunger. Hunger for fear. Hunger for flesh. Hunger for blood. Just... Hunger.

It's surprising how quickly everything came crashing down. First there were the reports, and then it spread like wildfire in dry grasslands. The infection. In only a week half the country of Europe was infected, and in three weeks half the world. After the first month and a half only a few people were left, a handful from the normal population.

No power anywhere. No fresh water. Buildings are in shambles from raiders breaking in to get things or trying to save themselves using guns and hand grenades. Streets are cracked and plants are dead. Cars are unused. Seeing another living soul is a miracle. Cause it's all dead. Everything is dead. 

I was in America when it happened. It happened so quickly. California was still pretty well off when we got the report that there were no reports of anyone living anywhere in the north of Europe, meaning pretty much all of Ireland. I was devastated. Then America got hit and it was just us. 

Me, Felix, PJ, Emma, and Mark. The five of us were terrified until we realized we couldn't hide in Mark's house forever. So we packed bags, grabbed some guns Mark had downstairs, and headed out. We raided some stores and got some more food, water, and weapons. Felix found a gun shop and we took everything of use. Emma was very good with distributing food and water so it would last. PJ was a surprisingly amazing fighter.

And then Mark and I were kind of the glue keeping everyone together. None of us ever argued, and if we got annoyed we'd fix the problem quickly. We all lasted a good month after the world went dead. I didn't know what we were fighting for, I still don't. The entire world is dead. Why keep fighting to stay alive? But then I realized when it all started going downhill.

One month ago, two and a half months after the dead, we were walking on a bridge. It was pretty rickety, but sturdy enough. But Emma slipped, and she fell before any of us could catch her. None of us looked down, knowing that her body probably looked broken among all the rocks and the ground below.

Three weeks and two days ago we were in a building, cornered. Only way out was through the window behind us, but someone would need to stay and ward the zombies off to give the rest time to escape. Felix and I kept saying we could all make it. PJ wouldn't hear us out. He practically pushed the three of us out, blowing up the top floor of the building as soon as we hit the ground. Only remnants of him was his backpack that he threw with us.

Three weeks ago exactly... I don't even know what happened. I thought it was all fine. We were running to the car, one of the few still working that we stole. When Mark and I got there though was when we realized... Felix was no where in sight. We couldn't go back, we knew there was a hoard. So we moved on. 

Now it's just Mark and I. The two of us. The two romantics. I'm still so surprised. The fact that we're able to stay together even after all this. I have no clue what day it is, but I know our one year anniversary is somewhere around here. Whenever I get scared, or sad, or angry, he always kisses me and everything's better.

Then I hear the growls and groans of the undead and I'm back to reality. But it doesn't matter because as long as he keeps bringing me out of reality, even if just for a second, I'll stay sane. I know it's the same for him. Every day we make sure we say "I love you" to each other, in fear of losing each other the next day.

That's always the fear. Losing each other. Losing him. Losing Mark. I couldn't ever imagine it, and yet I imagine what it'd be like each day because I'm always so afraid that tomorrow will bring his death. Always afraid...

***

"Seán! Come on!" I heard Mark yell and I shot one last time before turning and running, soon right beside him. We both ran as fast as possible. We took turns turning and shooting, making sure the hoard didn't get to close. "We're almost to the car! Just keep shooting!" 

I nodded, and obeyed. I kept shooting. He kept shooting. And then a zombie came from nowhere, jumping Mark. 

"Mark!" I screamed, but he already overpowered the creature before it got to him, shooting it in the head. Then he turned and ran next to me, grabbing my hand and practically throwing me into the car. Then he got into the drivers side and we drove away.

***

That was yesterday. Mark said he was fine. I believe him. Why would he lie to me? It's a quiet day today though, which is always kind of worrying. Mark and I parked the car a little ways away, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves as we head to the little grocery store to get food. We're still heading over there, guns in hand. And then...

"I love you. You know that?" I hear and I turn to see that Mark has stopped walking. Why has he stopped? I chuckle, walking up to him and taking his hand. He immediately takes his hand back.

"Of course I know that. I love you too. Always have, always will. What's wrong?" I ask, now worried. Why is he acting like this? He's acted like this all day... He closes his eyes, his head down. "Mark?"

"How fast can you run?" He asks and I'm taken aback by his question. My eyes widen and I shake my head slowly, scoffing.

"Pretty fast... Why?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"Just wanted to make sure." He says, looking up at me and smiling. But I can see the story behind the smile. He's sad and scared. Why? Wait... 

No... Please no...

"Mark..." I say it softly, breathily. His fake smile falls and he bites his lip. He looks at me with sad eyes and I shake my head slowly. Tears form in his eyes, but I don't cry yet. "You lied... Didn't you?"

He closes his eyes and lets tears fall down his cheeks. He rolls up his sleeve and shows me his arm. On his forearm is a large bite mark, red with irritation. I can't help the tears now. When I exhale it sounds more like a cry, and by now Mark is full on crying.

"I'm sorry. I tried. I'm so sorry..." He says, looking at me through tear filled eyes. I look at the ground, crying softly.

"Mark... We were doing so well..." I cry, knowing this is the end. He nods, crying too. 

"I'm so sorry..." He whispers. I nod, looking up at him. I can't help it, and I get lost. But this time, the only emotion is sadness. Sadness because in only a short matter of time Mark won't be Mark. And I hate that. I inhale deeply.

"I love you so much." I say and with that I pull him close, kissing him softly. He kisses back, his lips tasting salty of tears. We stand like that, kissing for a long time. The kiss says it all. It says everything either of us have said, or have wanted to say. Things like how I would have proposed have this not happened. Things like how I will always love Mark. Things like that.

When he pulls away it's because he can no longer stop crying. And I can't either. So we hug. We hug and we cry. We cry and cry until I'm sure neither of us can cry anymore. But then Mark pulls away from the hug and with one last look at my face, looks at the ground and drops to his knees. 

"Shoot me." He says. My previous statement is redacted as even more tears blur my vision. 

"W-what?" I ask. He looks at me, crying.

"Please Seán! I don't want to go through this. I don't want to go through with that pain. I want to remember you as you. My beautiful boyfriend. I want the last memory in my mind to be us kissing. I want my last thought to be how much I love you. Not hunger. Not darkness and evil and hunger. So please! Just kill me! Shoot me like every other one of those monsters!" He screams.

My grip on my gun becomes stronger as I cry, shaking my head slowly. I bend down, putting my hand on his cheek and kissing him softly. A short kiss. One meant for a last memory and nothing more. Because I know this is Mark's death with, is death itself. And I need to go through with it, despite the pain. I pull away.

I stand up. I cock the gun and I step back, holding it to Mark's head. He cries, staring at me. Staring me in the eyes. And I stare at him too. I stare in his eyes. No, not just his eyes. I stare at him. His being. His soul. His person. And I inhale, letting more tears spill as I say one last time.

"I love you Mark." 

And then I shoot.

A/N: I did not mean for this to get this depressing... Oops...