I'm finally at the next town, but things seem a little too quiet. I'm not trying to jinx myself, but I'm gonna find a place to settle and hopefully take a small nap. I have to find a safe and secure spot first. A single story house with at least two exits would be the most ideal spot, and I think I just found contestant number one. A nice little yellow brick house, perfect. I walk in, check every room, nothing. Perfect. I make sure to lock every door and window, just to be safe. I'm gonna lie down and rest for a few hours.
...
That's exactly what I needed. I feel so much better now. Damn, sunset. This sucks, now I'm definitely stuck in here for the night. I am a little hungry, I'm gonna see if there's any food in this house. I open the fridge and saw rotten meat and old potato salad, or at least I think it's potato salad. But, luckily they had some corn and green beans that were still decent looking in a can. Time to chow down. As I'm eating my "amazing' dinner, I can feel that something is off. I'm not sure what it is, but I only get this feeling when it's something bad. Unfortunately, the only weapons I have are a wooden baseball bat and a dull machete.
I brush the feeling off, maybe it's just from not being able to eat for a few days. That's when it happens, I feel a cold hand on my shoulder, my instincts completely take over, I jump across the table before I can even think about it and rush to the bedroom. I close and lock the door, this is why two exits is always important. I open the window and I hear them, hundreds of them, waiting for me. Hungry for my flesh. I'm now out of options. This is the end, this is how I go. I always thought I would go out from old age. A beautiful wife, 2, maybe 3 kids. A nice two story home, but no, not anymore. Instead I get to go out like everyone else in this world, eaten alive. This is it.