You wake up one morning and discover that in your front yard is pile of dead bodies, bloody, and burned. The stench of flesh dominates your nostrils.
There is a severed limb laying on your doorstep. In its pale white hand clutches a small pistol.
What you don't realize is, the pistol upon which you gaze will ultimately end your life, and the lives of so many others.
Fakkio_Edit Asks the question, "what is it, to be alive when you're already dead?"
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