Marcos Stand

## The Walking Dead: Marco’s Journey Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End My name is Justin Marco Luna. I was just a normal student before the apocalypse fell. I lived with my mother, Maritess, and my brother, RamRam, in my aunt’s house. Life was simple… until everything changed. One day, I was finally home with only Yanyan and RamRam le...

## The Walking Dead: Marco’s Journey Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End My name is Justin Marco Luna. I was just a normal student before the apocalypse fell. I lived with my mother, Maritess, and my brother, RamRam, in my aunt’s house. Life was simple… until everything changed. One day, I was finally home with only Yanyan and RamRam left in the house. Suddenly, screams for help pierced through the street. Without thinking, I ran toward the noise—but Yanyan grabbed my arm and stopped me. He had seen the signs, the wrongness in the people. Moments later, I understood his fear. People around us were no longer human—they acted like wild animals, their eyes vacant and filled with hunger. And then… they began to eat like monsters. Yanyan’s face turned pale. He whispered, “Walkers.” Panic surged through me, but Yanyan stayed calm enough to act. We locked all the doors, checked our food supplies, and I quickly calculated how long they would last. Weeks blur into a tense routine of rationing and barricading. The sounds of the undead scratching at the doors are a constant, gnawing presence. RamRam, always the optimist, tries to lighten the mood with jokes, but the laughter feels hollow, a thin shield against the dread. Mom is still out there, somewhere. One evening, as dusk bleeds into night, a new sound cuts through the groans of the walkers. A desperate sob, carried on the wind. It's coming from the alley behind the house. Yanyan grips his makeshift bat tighter. "Could be a trap," he warns, his voice barely a whisper. But beneath his caution, I see a flicker of hope. RamRam looks at me, his young face etched with worry. "We can't just leave them, Kuya," he pleads, using our term for older brother. You peer through a crack in the boarded-up window. In the dim light, you can make out a figure huddled against the brick wall. It's a girl, no older than sixteen, with dark hair pulled into practical pigtails beneath a baseball cap. Her face is streaked with dirt and tears. She clutches a rusty pipe in her trembling hands, her eyes wide with terror. This is Lyn. Yanyan shakes his head. "Too risky, Marco. We don't know who she is or if she's bit." "But if she isn't…" RamRam starts, but trails off. The girl sobs again, a heart-wrenching sound that echoes in the desolate street. Her vulnerability is stark against the backdrop of the apocalypse. Do you risk opening the door, potentially inviting danger into your sanctuary, or do you leave her to face the horrors outside alone? The decision weighs heavy, a life hanging in the balance.

Driven by a surge of resolve, you ignore Yanyan’s warnings. "I will open the door," you announce, your voice firm despite the tremor in your hands. "And let's check if she's bit, but if isn't—she will be part of our group now." You start to undo the barricade. Yanyan sighs, but doesn’t argue further. RamRam beams, his relief palpable. To...

Driven by a surge of resolve, you ignore Yanyan’s warnings. "I will open the door," you announce, your voice firm despite the tremor in your hands. "And let's check if she's bit, but if isn't—she will be part of our group now." You start to undo the barricade. Yanyan sighs, but doesn’t argue further. RamRam beams, his relief palpable. Together, you remove enough boards to create a narrow opening. Lyn peers inside, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please," she whispers, her voice hoarse, "please don't leave me out here." You gesture for her to come in. Lyn shuffles inside, never letting go of the rusty pipe. As soon as she steps into the house, you quickly secure the boards again, sealing the entrance. You waste no time, stepping closer to Lyn. "Show me your arms," you demand gently but firmly, and she hesitantly raises her sleeves. You scan her pale skin, searching for any sign of a bite. There's nothing. "Okay, let's get you cleaned up," RamRam says, his eagerness to help evident. He guides her towards the small bathroom. Suddenly, a chorus of guttural moans erupts outside. The house rattles. The floor vibrates under your feet. Yanyan rushes to the window, peering through a narrow gap. His eyes widen in horror. "Marco! Walkers! A lot of them!" he shouts, his voice laced with panic. "They're all around the house!" You run to the window, pushing Yanyan aside to get a better look. Your heart leaps into your throat. The alley is swarming with Walkers, dozens of them, drawn by the noise of Lyn's cries and your movements. They claw at the walls, their rotting hands reaching for any purchase. More are coming, pouring in from the street, their numbers seemingly endless. "How…?" you mutter, your mind racing. You realize it doesn’t matter how. You, RamRam, Yanyan, and Lyn are in a far more dangerous situation. “We need to move, now!” Yanyan urges, grabbing his bat. RamRam returns, his face pale. "Lyn's washing up," he says, his voice trembling. "What's happening?" "No time to explain. Get her. We have to find another way out," you say, your voice sharp with urgency. "The back door is too risky, and the windows are boarded. But there's a window in the attic. Maybe, just maybe, if we can get to the roof, we can jump to another building." You grab your own weapon – a heavy wrench you found in the garage. You glance at Yanyan and RamRam, a silent understanding passing between you. You have to protect them. You have to protect Lyn. You have to survive. “Upstairs, now. Move!” you command. You take the lead, heading towards the stairs, the sounds of the Walkers growing louder, more insistent. They are already testing the barricades.

The stairs creak ominously under your weight as you ascend, Yanyan and RamRam close behind. You glance back, seeing Lyn struggling to keep up, clutching her rusty pipe like a lifeline. "Just do what I say," you say, your voice firm despite the tremor in your hands, "just trust me, I will protect all for you—no matter what." Reaching the ...

The stairs creak ominously under your weight as you ascend, Yanyan and RamRam close behind. You glance back, seeing Lyn struggling to keep up, clutching her rusty pipe like a lifeline. "Just do what I say," you say, your voice firm despite the tremor in your hands, "just trust me, I will protect all for you—no matter what." Reaching the attic door, you shove it open, revealing a cramped space filled with dusty boxes and forgotten furniture. Cobwebs hang like ghostly shrouds, and the air is thick with the smell of decay. Light streams in through a grimy window at the far end of the room. You rush towards it, hoping it leads to the roof, but as you approach, a chilling realization dawns. The attic is filled with Walkers, crawling slowly from every dark corner. They must have broken in through the weakened parts of the roof. "Shit!" you curse under your breath, raising the wrench. There is no time to retreat. "Yanyan, RamRam, with me! Lyn, stay behind us!" The first Walker lunges, its rotting teeth snapping. You swing the wrench with all your might, connecting with its skull. The Walker falls, but more take its place, their moans filling the confined space. Yanyan swings his bat, connecting with a sickening thud. RamRam, surprisingly agile, dances around the Walkers, kicking and shoving them back, giving you and Yanyan room to maneuver. The window is partially boarded up. You strike the boards repeatedly with the wrench until they splinter and crack. Fresh air rushes in as you pull the last board away, revealing a narrow opening to the roof. "Go, go, go!" you shout, shoving RamRam towards the window. He clambers through, followed by Yanyan. You turn back to Lyn, but she’s frozen in fear, staring at the approaching Walkers. You grab her arm, pulling her forward, and together you squeeze through the window onto the roof. Below, the front door bursts open, and a wave of Walkers pours into the house. You and your group manage to escape by jumping to a neighboring rooftop and then descend into the streets, evading the horde. Days blur into a desperate search for supplies and a safe haven. The image of the Walkers breaking down the door replays in your mind, a constant reminder of the ever-present danger. A few days later, while scavenging near an abandoned hotel, you spot a lone figure watching you from a distance. She has a wary but resolute look. As you approach, she speaks, her voice soft but clear. "Are you friendly?" she asks, clutching a makeshift knife. It's Ruta.