Casper was huddled in the corner of his one room apartment, the usual rubbish littered the floor, old magazines,food packets. The single window had been shuttered and reinforced with bits of old furniture, likewise the door had also been given the same treatment.

The tiny TV in the corner was the only real source of light, and even its grainy picture was broken occasional by bursts of static, the sound had stopped working hours ago, but Casper hadn’t noticed, no, his attention was fixed firmly on the object clutched in his trembling hands, he was both fascinated and terrified of it. It was a gun

He had bought the weapon from a street dealer down near the docks, it had cost him the better part of a hundred credits, almost a months rent on his rat infested apartment, but with all the rumours he felt like he needed the protection. It wasn’t till he had returned home that night, soaked to the skin from the biting rain, that he had even remembered to check if it was loaded! Shaking hands fumbling at the catch, the chamber flipped out, to reveal five empty chambers and one loaded, he plucked the one shell out, trembling, he raised it to his eyes,trying to focus in the TV’s flickering light. The shell seemed intact, but only one? Cursing the dealer under his breath, he carefully slid the shell back in its housing, and flipped the chamber back into the gun.

It was the screaming that had ripped him from his sleep, panicking, he smashed what little furniture he had to barricade the door and window. It had not occurred to him that he lived in an apartment on the twenty seventh floor, it was just blind panic, he did not want to face those things! Once he was finished, he threw himself into the corner facing the door, gun clutched in trembling hands and waited.

He could hear the scratching at the door, his door, he raised the gun, trying to sight along the barrel, but the tears  that now flooded from his eyes where making it so hard, he could hear them calling his name! His name! He could hear them taunting him! But they were meant to be mindless! Drooling, mindless remains of living people, dead that still lived! Why could he hear them speaking?

The gun pressed against his head, he pulled the trigger, his head venting blood and brains kicked back to finally rest against the wall, his eyes glazing over.

The scratching at the door stopped, instead it was replaced by frantic knocking, “Cas? Casper you there?”

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