When one's face is black as soot

On the rooftop, Dante's father stroked her wife's back with his left hand while muttering comforting words to soothe her tense nerves.

"I'm still alive. Don't cry anymore Honey. You'll have wrinkles if you cry." He said and slowly seized the pistol from her trembling hands. He was so proud of her for helping him in that crucial moment.

When he felt her state was better, he stopped stroking her back and went to wipe her tears instead. "You did well."

She slowly nodded.

He kissed her forehead that glistening with sweat with pride and gratitude tinting his irises.

His wife raised her face filled with distress. Out of the corner her eyes, she had a glimpse of outline which was the zombie corpse with its right temple pierced by bullets.