Even though he was the communication specialist for his group, Damien found himself outside awfully more often than inside--being in a stuffy room to find a way to communicate with the other camps, find other survivors, that sort of thing. He shouldn’t be out here, beyond the walls of his camp, searching for any working supplies to try to get the radios and possibly computers working. He was in a dark, abandoned building that seemed to belong to a internet and cable company. Surely the building still held some useful tech he could salvage, right? With his bow and arrow in hand, Damien carefully walked through the first floor, which was a disaster--splatters of blood, broken windows, papers and equipment scattered everywhere.
He decided to check out the second floor when he spotted a rather still-fresh dead body by a desk, its stomach ripped open with guts hanging out. Damien realized he had really fucked up by coming in here. Heart pounding and breath quickening, Damien tried his best to quietly power walk out of there, bow at the ready--until he heard the screech of a walker. Shit.
“S-stay back!” he yelled, pointing his bow at the walker, which let out a roar before charging for him. Damien shot his arrow in a panic, missing terribly, before he started to run. He was able to get out of the front doors when a second walker attacked, lunging at him and tackling him to the ground.
Damien let out a hurtful shout when he landed on his back, blocking the walker’s attempts of attack by holding out his bow, trying and trying to push the ugly thing off of him. “Get off! Fuck, h-help!” he screamed, knowing that this was it. It was over, but he couldn’t stop screaming. “Help me!”
