The Apocalypse

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A loud cry filled the air, followed shortly by the loud shot of a pistol. The gunman ran towards his prey, but it was not his target. No, his target was the elderly man who was now on the ground, blood drooling from a wound in his ankle. The second-time-dead corpse lay behind them, a mix of red and green colored blood drooling from a whole in between its eyes.
"Father!" The teen cried out. He dropped his gun to the ground and placed his gloved hand above the wound, the other on his dad's forehead. Tears began to fill the boys eyes. "Father no! Do not make me do this!"
"S-Son...?" The man struggled. His head fell to his side, his green eyes looking up to his only child. "You have to-"
"No!" The boy screamed, shaking his head, "Father I cannot loose you! I have lost so much already! You are all I have left! If you-"
"Son! We both know it was my time anyway! Do it now before IT happens!" The father commanded.
The boy's hands shook violently as they hovered over the gun at his side. He swallowed. The shot he fired moments ago was his first actual time shooting a gun, and he could not explain how he had aimed it so perfectly, he merely did it upon instinct. Could he really bring himself to shoot his father? The boy's eyes flew from the gun to his father has the man gave a small growl.
"Very well... if you refuse... then run away as fast as your legs can carry you... Do not look back." The boy gasped slightly as his father gave a cough, "Son" you have to be strong... you are going to do great things in this world... make me proud... son..."
The man's head fell to the side, his eyes remaining open as a breath escaped his parted lips. The boy shook his head, the tears spilling from his eyes. He fell from his knees to his side, splashing in a puddle of red crimson liquid. Who cares if he was infected now. Who cared if the blood of the infected mixed into his scratches... who cared if THEY got him. He already lost everything.
After a few moments of the boy sobbing somewhat loudly, a strangled gasp came from his father, and the boy slowly got to his knees again, peering at the green eyes. "F-Father...?"
The green eyes that used to bring the boy hope slowly turned into the boy's worst nightmare. The man's pupils shrunk to almost nothing, and his eyes lost their color, paling until there was no iris left, leaving the whole eye pure white. The boy yelped and grasped the gun, wriggling along the ground away from his father who glared at him. His skin was grayer now, staring at his son with dead, evil eyes. The now living corpse growled deeply and reached out a long arm towards the boy, eager to pull the child to his death. All he managed was to rip the white pant leg that protected the boy's flesh.
The teen struggled to his feet, staring in pure horror at his father. The old man gave a fierce shriek, and the boy gasped, looking from the corpse to his surroundings. It was so sudden; nearly hundreds of stumbling bodies ran towards the boy. A hand suddenly grabbed the teen's ankle, and the boy yelped to find his father going to chomp his leg. He screamed, pointing the gun in between his father's eyes.
A loud bang filled the air.
The teen turned swiftly away from the herd. He stumbled down the street, running as fast as his legs could take him. He continued to sprint, despite the scratch on his left foot.
Zane Julien turned and watched with tear filled eyes as the bodies fell around his father and began dinning upon him.

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