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Seventy Five

 


In an underground complex, all crumbling concrete and rusted stairs. There are zombies here, their mouths red with blood and flesh. I pilot a small buggy, knocking many of them over, until I end up being stopped by the sheer number of moving bodies before me. As I climb out, they vanish. A man in strange suit motions toward a staircase as an elephant man-type zombie stumbles toward me. I am to fight him: this is entertainment for an unseen audience. I choose to hide behind a strange wall. The zombie turns into a gun turret which I eventually destroy.


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