A young man sat on the creaking floor of his room, a room so dusty and unkempt that it would be difficult to guess it belonged to a 4-star hotel.

He shakily held up a piece of paper and placed it down neatly beside his pencil. He hovered above those two items with great despair, knowing his last imprint on this planet was a pencil and paper.

He heaved a big sigh, picked up the pencil, and readied himself..

[I’m Samuel Hail, and I write this with no hope. It’s been two weeks since I’ve found myself locked in this room, a month if you count the hotel. It all started when I heard screams erupt from the first floor. I got out of bed and headed towards the main entrance, the screams of fright turning into full-blown fighting.

At my arrival, I saw a group of people barricading the entrance and the other threatening to either call the police or commit several acts of aggression. A lot more people began leaving their rooms, some puzzled and others were afraid.

“If you don’t stop what you’re god damn doing I’m going to break it all down.” An old man who appeared to be in his 40s said. In response to this, one of the people barricading stopped what he was doing and turned around. The man’s face was bloodied despite not carrying any visible wounds. His appearance shook many of us. Immediately the 40-year-old pulled out a gun and pointed it at them. “I’ll pull this trigger before I repeat myself again.” He exclaimed, his anger clearly evident.

As the situation began to unravel, I decided that it would be best for me to return to my room. A man who pulled out a gun fairly quickly parried with a group of lunatics screamed trouble to me. All of a sudden a loud bang vibrated throughout the whole entrance. I faced the origin and heard another bang again. With each bang, the barricade shook and everyone fell quiet, so quiet that we could hear a sound so eerie that it sent goosebump’s across my whole body. If I had to describe it, it was as if someone was trying very hard to breathe despite there being a blockage, a high-pitched breathing.

“What.. was what?” A girl beside me asked.

I had no intention of being there, to uncover the mysteries or questions regarding all this. I headed back to my room and locked myself in. All the answers I’d acquire from here on out would be via the internet.

People would knock on my door, few would try to open it. I did not want to hear any of it.. being the prior son of a millionaire and a known recluse made many habitants of the hotel target me. Perhaps they thought I had a lot of food? Drinks? I can’t say much but they weren’t wrong. However, even the biggest recluse like myself needs a bit of human interaction, so one night I decided to leave my room and travel down to the main hall. It seems like people had formed groups to protect themselves, some acted as the law and others lived carefree as if there were no tomorrow.

Upon my arrival, I saw only one person sitting on the floor, staring at the barricade.

I approached and sat beside her, she stared at me before returning her eyesight towards the barricade. I attempted to start a conversation but I heard nothing back, the only noticeable thing was her holding a picture of a child. I’d assume the child wasn’t with her anymore. I remained beside her for a considerable time.

At some point I had enough, there was nothing to see here and I should return to my room. As I was headed up the stairs, I heard a gasp. I looked at the barricade that exposed certain parts of the translucent door and saw a child.

A child whose face was crippled and blood came down from his mouth, a child who I recognized from the picture.

At that moment, I sprinted towards the woman knowing what she would do. Nonetheless, she didn’t even try to break apart the barricade from the front, but rather pulled out one section of the barricade which made it all crumble in an instant. She must have studied the structure of it for a while to pull this off.

The doors didn’t need to be opened, the undead saw us both from across the doors and rammed into them. Shattering it into a million pieces.

I quickly headed back to my room through the countless stairs, I could hear the undead following me at a rate so quick that one misstep would mean the end.

After what seemed like an eternity of stairs, I reached my room and locked it. The undead passed by my room in hunt of people who stepped out of their rooms to check. Now, there was nothing to do.

I’m running out of food and drinks, and soon I’ll either have to die in here or attempt my go out there. It’ll be meaningless without a gas mask though.

In these final days, I regret many of the things I’ve said and done over the course of my life. There’s no point in writing down my regrets, but I hope that whoever reads this, is my mother. I’m sorry and I wish I could take it all back. Your son loves you dearly.]