Don't Open the Door on Doomsday Night

I met Valerio in college. He was the one who first began pursuing me back then, and I had agreed to be his girlfriend very quickly.

The reason was that he was very handsome. He was also the captain of the football team, and he had dimples whenever he smiled.

Most importantly, he treated me very well.

We dated for three years, but we still hadn't gotten engaged yet. The reason was that he went and did something behind my back in college, which was to take out high-interest loans without my knowing.

At that time, he was obsessed with maintaining his image as the campus heartthrob. He always bought the latest iPhone, limited-edition sneakers, and also gave me designer gifts that he couldn't actually afford at all.

And when he ran out of money, he continued borrowing even more loans after that.

By the time I finally found out about it, his debt had snowballed into a massive sum.

I helped him with his payments and watched him delete every fast-loan app from his phone. He then cried bitterly and swore that he would never borrow from these loan sharks ever again.

I trusted him. However, a lingering doubt somehow always remained in my mind.

Although the apartment I was living in was quite old and dilapidated, it was an inheritance from Grandpa and Grandma, and Valerio had been here a couple of times prior.

He didn't live with me, however, because it was quite a distance from his office. Yet, when the zombie apocalypse happened, he was still living in the dorms provided by his job.

It was literally a death trap with so many people living in such close proximity to each other. I was worried sick about him, so I suggested to him that he was welcome to seek refuge at my apartment for a while.

However, I never thought that he would turn up with his debt collectors as well.

I didn't even know when he'd started borrowing money from them again!

New live comments popped up before my eyes.

"You wouldn't get engaged to him for a long time, and he thought that you looked down on him for being poor. So, he took out a loan to dabble in the stock market, and then, he lost it all. His creditors came looking for him to collect his debt. Coincidentally, it was during the zombie outbreak."

"Don't you ever open the door for him! His creditors are first going to kill you, and then, he's going to kill them in retaliation. He'll then use your supplies to recruit a team and then live a life of luxury afterward!"

"Yeah, your death made him the 'devoted lover' he always wanted to be, and you'd also help him evade his debts!"

I stared at the floating texts and tried to piece together the story behind them.

According to the comments, I was the main protagonist's first love in the opening scene of a post-apocalyptic movie, but I would die and be torn to pieces within the first act.

Valerio would then hug my dead body and scream my name in anguish, vowing revenge. He'd survive the first few brutal weeks with all the food I'd stockpiled in my apartment. Then, he would recruit his own team, form allies, and eventually become a strong, powerful leader.

In the end, he would even meet another young woman who looked exactly like me. They would fight side by side and love each other for the rest of their lives.

I gripped my phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

I didn't know whether I was the protagonist's "first love" doomed to die in this apocalyptic movie script. I also didn't know whether fate had already written my name down on the death list.

All I knew was one thing—I didn't want to die.