Who: Jordan ( CaptainSparklez )

Mentioned: Tom (TheSyndicateProject), Sonja ( OMGitsfirefoxx ), and Tucker ( iijeriichoii )

I pull my sword up from the bloody body that was underneath the blade. The sharp diamond broadsword had caused a hole in the back of the victim. Blood stained the pristine cloths around the wound. The object came out red, dripping in blood and chucks of guts sliding down the flat side. The stained grass started to flatten from the moist liquid . I looked down at my previous island companion, Tom Syndicate Cassel, who laid motionless as color drained out of his face.

Originally there was four people. But they started dying off from the lack of resources. The first to died from no protection against a florin mob. It exploded, leaving bits and pieces of his body behind. His girlfriend cried at the death scene. Crumpled, sobbing on the cave stone floor as she bathed in his blood. But she didn't have to wait long to join him. Twenty days later she also died to a strange creature in the depths of the ocean we were exploring. The death was tragic, but not as gory. She had sunk to the bottom of the sea floor, paralyzed and drowned to death.

Then Tom and I were left to fend for ourselves. We shared resources, built farms for food, and managed a working schedule of who would work what. It was peaceful until we came up with the idea of suicide. We both watches our friends die, killed creatures we'd rather not talk about, and had lived up to what we could. So deciding to duel with our best gear and kill each other was the most entertaining and valid option.

But I didn't know I'd be chasing Tom, no fatal hit thrown from him, not even once.

As I strode through the grassy meadow, I started thinking of ways to kill himself. There was hanging myself on a tree, drowning, or getting the most gruesome death of all: getting eaten alive by the disgusting zombie creatures. Choosing one, I continued my walk to the tinny house.

~

His last preparations were done. The letter I wrote laid on a wooden chest for any finders to know about the land's story. It was night out for a while now, the fields crawling with creepy crawlers. My chest was bare of any armor, empty handed, and washed for the celebration of death.

The faint growl became louder as I opened the door. Fresh air and the cool sea breeze rustled my hair. Zombies everywhere. They all threw up there heads to look at me, mouths watering. I stepped toward them and raised my hands to show I was unarmed. Dozens of them surged forward. I stood there, helpless as can be as they sprinted towards me.

The first one came, and tackled me to the ground. Soon after a second and third came, till there was about ten creatures tearing at my cloths and flesh. I screamed, the pain immense. My vision started to fade, my heartbeat slowing to the loss of blood, the pain starting to numb away. Zombies crowded on top of me to get a taste of the meat of their prey. I felt nothing. The happiness of knowing that I am dead now securing my sanity.

Jordan Maron was eaten alive by zombies.