**January 1, 2005**

The world had descended into chaos. What was once a spirited New Year’s celebration had turned into a nightmare on the first dawn of the year. Cities lay in ruins, fires flickering like dying stars amidst the bleak landscape, and an eerie silence enveloped the streets. It wasn’t the traditional horror of zombies we had been warned about; these zombies were something far more sinister. They rose from the depths of hell itself, their twisted forms tormented by a hunger that defied the very nature of existence.

“Did you hear that?” My sister, Mia, whispered, pressing her back against the cold, crumbling wall of what used to be an abandoned shop. Her wide eyes darted to the shadows casting grotesque shapes in the flickering light of the overhead flames.

“Stay quiet,” I urged, clutching a rusted pipe I had found moments before. The sounds of groaning echoed through the alley, a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver rippling down my spine. These weren’t ordinary zombies; they devoured your soul first, leaving you a hollow shell before you were compelled to walk the earth as one of them.

I reached for Mia’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “We need to find others. There are bound to be survivors out there,” I said, forcing confidence into my voice.

We had been separated from our family in the initial surge of chaos, when the sky turned crimson and the first waves of hellish creatures emerged from the darkness. Most people believed the undead were an infection, but we knew better now—they were cursed beings, drawn from the depths of hell to...