Frank had spent his whole life up to that point running from confrontations, even trivial ones. He had apologized to people who bumped into him on the sidewalk, he walked away when people made fun of him without answering back, he never stood up to bullies when he was a kid, and he ran away from his first encounter with the undead. He couldn't bear to do it again, even if it meant his death. He would stand his ground for the first time and face his foe head on. "Bring it, you little bitch..." He called out with a little of his courage restored. "I'm right here." A few seconds passed before the Stalker made its move. All that could be heard was Frank's own heart as a pair of clawed hands emerged from the darkness. Not even a scream escaped either combatant's lips as Frank squeezed the trigger on his revolver for the final time. A single shot rang out as blood splattered all over the nearby shelfs. Frank fell to the floor with a thud with the Stalker on top of him. The things claws and teeth had sunk into his arms and shoulder. Frank closed his eyes and waited for the monster to finish him off...
Only it didn't. The Stalker's limp body had hit Frank with enough force to sink its claws and teeth into his flesh, but not deep enough to cause a fatal amount of blood loss. Indeed, most of the blood splattered in the confrontation had come from the bullet hole in the Stalker's head. Once Frank realized his victory he shoved the things dead body off of him and felt around for his dropped flashlight. It took him no time to find it and he quickly shone it on the body of his enemy to make sure it was dead. The sight was sickening, but it was clear the zombie wouldn't be getting back up. "I killed him... it... I killed another one." Frank gasped as he returned his empty gun to its holster. "I took another life, yet... somehow I don't regret it..." Frank looked down at his shaking hands and bleeding arms. "It hurts like hell, but its not deep." He said to himself reassuringly. "I'm still alive... because I did what I had to... these people... these things are not human, not anymore. They may be able to move, but all they are is corpses..." Frank walked out of the store with a heavy heart and found another directory with his flashlight sitting about thirty feet away with a few bloodstains on it. Oddly, this didn't seem to bother Frank and he was soon on his way to...
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