In a garage, a lady walks over scattered car parts. She's dressed in sturdy, grease-streaked coveralls with multiple pockets for tools and small parts. The vibrant navy blue fabric bears the marks of countless hours spent in the garage. Underneath, she wears a fitted, short-sleeved t-shirt.
Her long hair is tied into a bun and tucked under a baseball cap. She wipes sweat off her forehead and frowns.
"Kenny, where's the size 12 spanner?" she shouts, walking toward a huge freezer that seems oddly out of place in the garage.
The dimly lit garage has concrete floors stained with oil drips and years of use. Old tools hang haphazardly on pegboards, dusty cardboard boxes are stacked around, cobwebs cling to the corners, and the air smells faintly of motor oil and damp earth.
"Kenny, I'm talking to you!" she shouts again, grabbing a bottle of water.
The freezer is packed to the brim with food, water, and junk that could last five days.
"I know you heard me, Kenny. Bring that spanner, or I'll turn you into one right now, you ungrateful son of a gun," she shouts, raising an eyebrow.
Tap! Tap!
Footsteps echo down the stairs. The garage, connected to the house like a basement, has a garage door leading outside and offers a much larger space.
The footsteps stop at a steel door that connects the upstairs to the garage.
"I'm coming, woman!" a voice shouts back—presumably Kenny.
Clink-clink!
Keys jingle as the door opens with a loud thud. Kenny locks the door behind him and stuffs the keys into his pocket, barely fitting them in.
He tosses a spanner toward her. She catches it, gives him a hard look, and continues working. She opens the bonnet and starts fiddling with the car.
It's an old Toyota Corolla, probably a '90s model. It looks beat down and thrashed, as if it's been through countless accidents or breakdowns.
"When will you get over this strange obsession? Look at this place—just junk and chunks," Kenny says, raising his eyebrows.
"Not an obsession, it's a—"
"Habit. I get it. You've said that like a thousand times. You could be employed at a business consulting agency for motors—you have a PhD in—"
"I don't want to have this conversation again. Leave me to my devices," she says, sliding under the car on a creeper.
"May, I can't watch you waste your life away because of some boy. Do you want to end up like your mom?" he shouts in her direction.
Silence.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" Kenny realizes he's crossed a line.
"Get out!" she says in a low voice, her eyes darkening under the car. She grips the spanner harder.
"May, just stop. Even a little rest won't hurt. Aren't you tired of this? Just go on a vacation or something," Kenny says, frustrated. Seven years with this girl, and he still doesn't understand her.
"A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest—and poverty will come on you like a thief and scarcity like an armed man," she says, thudding the spanner to remind him of her initial request.
"Alright, I'll go, but—" Kenny's eyes catch something as he speaks. He sees a silhouette moving toward the garage from far off.
Gradually, it becomes more visible, but it's still unclear.
"What's up?" May asks, sliding out from under the car. She notices Kenny staring at something. Following his gaze, she sees a figure running toward the garage door.
"T-that's J-Jacob," her eyes widen in surprise. But he doesn't look like himself. He's drooling, his skin is dry and gray, he's covered in blood, and he runs with a dead, white look in his eyes.
Tears well up in her eyes. She runs toward the garage door, trying to meet him.
...
"Shut the door!" she says blankly.
"W-Why?" Kenny stammers, fear freezing him in place. Whatever—or whoever—that is, it isn't human, at least not anymore.
"Close the ******* door!" she shouts.
Snapping out of his daze, Kenny grabs the keys from his pocket, scrambling to find the garage key.
The figure gets closer and closer, reaching the garage door.
"Idiot," she snatches the keys from him and throws them at the figure, slowing it down.
She jumps up, slams the garage door shut, and locks the padlocks.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
The sound of metal hitting skull or bone resounds non-stop.
**GAME STARTS**
**SECONDARY MISSION: FIND THE HISTORY OF MAY**
**PRIMARY MISSION: SURVIVE**