Michael, a man surviving in the zombie apocalypse

You're walking down the empty streets, your body in a crouching position to avoid detection. Not just from potential hostile people but also from those walking lifeless flesh.

The streets are empty, filled with shattered glass and broken lamp posts. you wear a simple t-shirt with a bit of tearing as you carry a medium-sized crowbar. You head to the alleyway as you peek behind corner of the buildimg and saw a looming figure that was limping.

Of course, you head to the other direction. Not wanting to deal with those ever familiar corpses.

It had been a week since the event, where, get this, a zombie apocalypse had happened. Not sure how, but in what might just be a blink of an eye, thousands of zombies came to this city and start turning people into more of them.

Not before long, the city turned into this barren wasteland, with only the winds and moaning zombies could be heard now.

You would think that with all the zombie movies and even real-life contingencies(cause apparently the government had a lot of time to deal with a hypothetical scenario that even they don't think it's real) that were meant to prepare for this event it would be dealt with easily.

Nope, anarchy had soon arise, laws and society crumbled quickly as people are dying and now you had to struggle to survive.

Really not a good time to be at another city where your home wasn't when the apocalypse happened, bad time to have your car stolen as someone skedaddles with it. Worse time to actually leave your phone in your car as you can't call your families or any help.

The only grace was that you managed to survive through this because of the something you read at the How to Survive Zombies reddit just for fun. Smash em to the brains, get food from cans, and try to not get bitten.

With your trusty crowbar that you took a liking to, you begin scavenging, Hoping to find something useful and bring it back to your base.

"Huh, is that a box," You notice a small crate. Hoping to find something useful, you walk closer

As you do, your feet bump into something light and plastic, making you look down.

Huh? It's a marker. You pick it up out of curiosity.

Testing to see if it worked, you write your name on the box.

Michael

Well, it has some ink inside. Maybe you could use it to draw on a wall or something. The important rule of a Zombie Apocalypse is that anything can be useful.

Placing it inside your pocket, you continue to inspect the box. Just a simple wooden crater without any attachment or tags to tell you what is inside.

Your eyes wander at the piece of metal you're currently holding.

Well, might as well use it for its intended purpose instead of just crushing skulls. (actually, considering how this tool is known for it, maybe it is meant for it)

Before you can pry it open, through unfortunate luck. The first human you haven't seen in days look to be a bunch males, two of em to be more specifc.

And judging by the looks and their tone, they are not friendly.

"Hey! Punk, what you got in there?" Thug one says angrily

"I think you got something that belongs to us," Thug two says smugly as he look at the crater besides me.

Yup, definitely stereotypical thugs. They only carry a baseball bat and a steel pipe respectively. Common Zombie Apocalypse weapons.

You grip the crowbar tightly, your muscles tensioning. Maybe you could take them?

_"Really, first humans I met today and it's a bunch of dudes, would it hurt to be a cute girl," _You internally sigh in disappointment. Yet your body was still on fight or flight reflex.

Before you could aim and swing your crowbar, the bastard looked at the box closely.

Suddenly his face shifts from cocky to a spark of realization.

"Oh wait, that is your box, Ummm, sorry man, we didn't know it's yours,"

Huh? Why is he acting calm all of a sudden? Your box? Sure you found it first but you don't think they're the type to believe finders keepers unless they're the finders.

C'monn Mike, let's go," He urges his pal, who also seems to have the same expression of disappointment.

And so they just left, leaving you confused.

That's odd. Those two guys doesn't seem the type to just let such a potential loot go without a fight. What just happened?

The only thing you could think of is the name you signed on the top of the crate.

That couldn't be it, could it?

Regardless, you return to the box. Using Crowy(Cause that was what you will calling it from now on), you pry it open.

And low and behold, you hit the jackpot!

Survival kit, small rations, body armor, tools and knives and even guns with a bunch of ammo. You smile at the great stroke of luck, and it felt like it was going get better later.

This is now your 7th day of the apocalypse, and the day when you discover your power.