The stress is almost unbearable, escaping without injury or worse seems unlikely.
X, all of them hitting hard in your poor brain, affecting your decisions. So now you are squashed with the sounds and noises made by zombies, lickers and Mr. Guess who’s descending the stairs: it’s your big boy, Mr. Luckily enough, when you arrive to the first step, avoiding the zombies without getting bitten, a heavy percussion starts playing. Your mental strain starts to increase while you are shouting a big “NOPE” and turning the other way around for the stairs. But when you are getting near the first door, that perturbing licker’s shriek paralyzes you for a second. Some zombies are groaning near the stairs, so you choose the rooms first. The lights are out, of course, you have your tiny flashlight and a handgun with scarce ammunition. There are, apparently, two ways to choose: you can go straight-forward for the stairs or turn right and enter some possible dangerous rooms. You are standing in a hallway, inside a labyrinthine police department.
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