i am one of the last few standing, a survivor on a farm, just along the outskirts of a small city. like most that have made it this far, i live off of old canned goods and a healthy back stock of ammunition. greetings from extermination, kansas- death in the midwest. even with the godless reaching my property every few days, i am tortured by solitude. the whispering of the cornfields haunt me like the moans of my undead enemies. my depression grows stronger: its bitter claws around my neck. i will always be tortured by solitude. will anything get better for me? i have watched the world die, all i know now is regret. will this sickness ever leave this world? i have watched the world die, all i know now is regret. i am haunted, i am haunted by all that surrounds me. i have watched the world die, all i know now is regret. what i've known has been taken from me. i have watched the world die, all i know now is regret. i am one of the last few standing, a survivor on a farm, just along the outskirts of a small city. no one living has been within this house since my wife died two years ago. another occasion of when the undead came across some innocence. i will never see through this nightmare. i will never know sunlight again. i will never see through this nightmare. i will never taste her lips again.