Deep in a nightmare of sleep, his boney finger twitched rapidly and grazed over the trigger of his double barrelled shotgun. He was suddenly ripped out of sleep as the deafening shotgun round was discharged, narrowly missing his head. As he gathered his thoughts, he realized he had fallen asleep on the rooftop balcony. With hunger biting at his stomach, he gradually brought himself to his feet and scanned the morning horizon, as he had done countless times before. The pounding on the rooftop door began almost immediately, and quickly grew unnerving. His body turned cold, and felt as if it were shutting down. He then retreated into his den and collapsed near the threshold. Unknown to him, this particular sunrise would be his last.
He was awoken by a sharp, thumping pain in his stomach. He slowly reached for a bottle of what was left of his murky rain water. He took the last sip of the life giving substance and wet his dry, chapped lips. All the joints in his body cracked and popped as he sluggishly lifted himself from the floor. He then shuffled across the den and into the bathroom. He relieved himself into a hole in the ground where a toilet used to be. As he turned to leave the room he caught a glance of himself in a shattered piece of mirror propped against the filthy sink. He slowly ran his emaciated fingers down the length of his ribcage and felt every thump as his finger dragged down his ribs.  He looked down at his protruding stomach as he could feel every heartbeat thumping inside. He then leaned in for a closer look in the mirror. He snarled at the sight of his pale, sunken face. His teeth cracked and gnarled, with pieces of rotted meat still wedged profusely within. He turned away repulsed at the sight of what he had become and left the dilapidated room.
The hunger had driven him to the worst possible means of getting sustenance. For this man had feasted on the flesh of man. This man was driven to eat his only other friend and companion he'd known in this changed and horrific world. The mid-day sun was fierce and biting on his brittle skin, as he shielded the sun with his hand. He drudgingly paced the length of the roof in the shade of a large satellite dish, searching for any scraps of food he could find. Finding nothing, he became overwhelmed with disappointment and slumped down against the balcony wall. The pounding and moaning on the stairwell door grew louder and seemed to infect his consciousness. He was then snapped out of his hypnotized state by a faint voice chattering over his two-way radio. He stayed slouched against the wall, closed his eyes, and listened.
"The End… It brings with it the beginning of a world without sin! A world without judgements or religion! No forms of government! No egos to please! No false idols to worship! For these beliefs, morals, and values die with the men that create them!"
The transmission abruptly ended… He then felt a rush of dizziness overwhelm him, as his body further slumped to the floor and cascaded him back to his nightmarish sleep. He awakened several hours later and immediately noticed the pounding on the door had ceased. He dragged himself to his feet and slowly made his way back to the den. The cool evening air bit at his skin, much like the heat of the mid-day sun. He stumbled over his double barrel shotgun that lay precariously on the ground. He leaned over, pushed through the light-headedness, and gingerly picked up the weapon. Just as the silence was beginning to offer him the least bit of comfort, it was then consumed by the moaning and pounding of the undead.
The undead wanted through that door. They did not know why. They did not know how they were going to get through the door. They only knew their driving madness to devour this man. The man then turned and walked towards the stairwell door as if it were Hell's Gate. The dragging of this man's feet across the rooftop further enraged the undead. As he approached the door, he could smell the defecation in the air and the stench of walking death on the other side. As the man drew painfully close to the door, the incessant pounding ceased. Shocked, the man leaned forward and pressed the side of his face against the cold, steel door. All at once, it seemed, the undead suddenly struck the door with such force it knocked the man back to his feet slamming his head on the concrete.
As the night grew darker the man was greeted with the taste of his own blood. His stomach sucked and purged at his throat, aching for more blood. He laid and proceeded to drink his own blood, rushing out of the gaping wound in withered tongue. When he rolled out of this pool of blood he sensed just how enraged the undead became at the scent. These beasts wanted to feast on him, just as he had feasted on his companion. These beasts wanted to drink his blood just as he had done. He soon came to the conclusion that he himself was a walking dead man. He then felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as he had this thought. For within this thought was his enlightenment. The man's eyes grew bitter cold and the adrenaline worked as his muscles uncontrollably lifted the lock to the door, unlocking his portal to life and death. The man withdrew from the door with such haste it seemed unbelievable. He launched himself to the other side of the rooftop and balanced himself on the ledge, wielding his only weapon. He turned around, and was shocked at the sight he beheld. A horde of over a dozen zombies stared at him with wonder. They had stopped short in their pursuit confused at what they saw. They inspected the fleshless corpse on the ground, and the shell of a man before them. The man took a deep breath and pressed the cold double barrel under his chin. Faint images of him in the mirror presented themselves in thought. He exhaled sharply and pulled the trigger. A red mist filled the evening air as the shot echoed throughout the neighborhood. His body fell limp and toppled over the ledge. With a rush, the zombies pursued his lifeless corpse over the ledge. The silence grew eerie, as the bodies fell for what seemed to be a lifetime. All at once, it seemed, the bodies smacked the ground with such force they formed shallow graves in the dirt. The man's body lay in a shallow grave, concealed by the corpses of the undead.