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[Pyro]

The sun peaked through the window shades as he rolled over and dug his head farther into his pillow. The busy town underneath them roared and he rolled in an attempt to get more comfortable as he sat up and snorted.

"Fucking city.." He growled brushing his hair backwards. He was becoming irritable being locked up in his chambers, but of course how could he blame them? The gash a zombie ripped into his bicep looked remarkably like it could have been a bite, but it had stopped bleeding. He had put down many of his friends who had been bitten out on the field before the disease could turn them, and he knew the difference from a wound and a bite. He was very lucky this wasn't a bite.

As he flipped the covers off his body he stood up and pulled on a pair of jeans sitting in the corner, buckling the belt and walking over to the door and giving it one large pound. On the other side you could hear the hinges stress and the guard who had fell asleep jump up in an attempt to fix himself.

"Forge? Is that you?" He asked. "Reply, now"

"Are you ordering me Smith?" Smith was an old friend, he became a guard when they told him he didn't have what it takes to leave the city and battle. He had asthma and was known to have panic attacks, and if he needed to run long distances there would obviously be a problem with zombies around him. "Open the fucking door, it's been more then 24 hours and i'm not a zombie. So hurry up i'm fucking starving." The lock snapped as the door creaked open and Forge made his way out of the room. He stood almost five inches taller then Smith, and though they were friends Smith cowered over the 6' 3" beast in front of him. "I told you I wasn't undead."

Smith didn't reply, only nodded as Forge turned and shook his head, walking down the corridor through the bends and down the spiral stairs into the main chamber where his father stood tall, a war hammer in his right hand.

"Hello Dad."

"So, you were telling the truth." He replied.

"After three years on the field and the amount of people i've had to kill, you honestly think I would bring the disease to the city? If I didn't want to die I would have stayed out there." Forge's father thought he was very conceded, apparently to the point that he would rather infect one of the last known havens then give his own life to the cause.

"We have to be careful, after last time-"

"After last time, when I killed him. You'd think after the service I put in the people would trust me, better then an old man who won't even leave the city anymore." He knew it was a low blow, and it would last for weeks for his father could no longer leave the city. Not because he was physically disabled or any reason of that, but once his wife was taken by the Undead, and Forge killed her, the man was not the same. "You'd think that people would let up on me too, she wasn't just your wife."

With that he left the room, slamming the door behind him and grabbing one of the leather jackets that had been made for when riding a motorcycle through the Undead. It was a surprisingly good idea for the Undead were slow and couldn't react that quickly, the leather jackets were just for extra precaution.

As he stepped out of the main tower the city of Hammerforge gleamed in front of him, the people walking around and the walls around the city reaching up to the sky. It was impenetrable to the Undead, they were stupid and even after seeing people come through the gates could not figure out how to get it open. The only problem with this was the threat of what people were calling the 'Super Zombie'. An Undead that could think and run and plot and scheme. It was rumor, but it had people on edge. If they were organizing now, there would be a very large problem. Their population was much greater then that of the humans left in the known world.

"Hello Mr. Hammerforge!" Shop keeper Ralph hollered out.

"Look Ralph, i've told you a hundred times, call me Forge."

"No No No, son of our leader? I wouldn't dare."

"Alright, good-bye Ralph."

"Good-bye Mr. Hammerforge, good luck with today's mission!"

Oh shit! I'm scheduled out today... Forge honestly forgot that today was the large mission day, him and a team would leave the city stocked with supplies and a very big plan to take down a small town filled with Undead not far from Hammerforge. They would be leaving by bus, and be stocked with molotov cocktails to assure the city's destruction. Forge of course, always brought a container of rum whenever they were on the bus, he needed it on the way home, otherwise he would probably go crazy, and kill everybody on the mission. Tensions were high, the Undead weren't going anywhere it seemed, and this 'Super Zombie' nonsense didn't help the paranoia that had struck the world.