this rotten and infected world

As I walk into the abandoned cafe, I notice just how barren it is. No one to be seen, I walk over to the dusty chair, setting my backpack down next to me. I sit on the chair, taking a rest from all of the horrible things that I've seen recently. For all I know, this infection has killed everyone, and I could be the last not mutated murderous person left, I look around this place, and I notice the display screen TV is shattered, I see a body over the counter with a hole in its head, half-rotted. I see a pistol next to the body, along with a pool of dried and sticky blood. I grab the pistol, grateful I finally have a gun to fight against the infection. under the counter on the sitting side, I see scratch marks and tally. they were here for a week before they couldn't take it, I suppose I should investigate this place further, maybe there's something useful for me. I looked in the fridge and found a bottle of alcohol, even if I was old enough to drink it, even though there are no cops to enforce that rule. I take it, I don't intend on drinking it, I cannot allow myself to get drunk in this kind of world. Otherwise, I might get killed. Instead, I will use this bottle of alcohol to disinfect any wounds or cuts I might get from an infection or even a fall. In this new world, which has only been ruined for about 8 days now, somehow already has an order. rules, prey, and predator among this new species. They are prey and predator among themselves, it's a gloriously awful and true cycle, nothing can escape the cycle, I mean. I sorta can, since these things can be killed, since I've got a gun now, I think I'll be ok. I look around once more and see a door, the storage room. I walked up to it and I tried to open it. It was locked, and I heard something bang on the door, screaming an inhuman scream, it was loud and irregular. I took a step back, watching the door shake, I knew it could probably break the door, so I looked at the counter where I absent-mindedly left the pistol, I ran to it, grabbing it. I heard a loud splintering sound followed by a clattering. It escaped, I turned around, pointing the pistol in that direction, and I saw it fly out of the hallway its movements were a blur, I fired and missed, and I fired again and missed. It lunged at me, tackling me to the ground! I land on my back, the air in my lungs wooshing out. I dropped my pistol, and the thing was on top of me. it had to be about 5 and a half feet tall, around 140 pounds, it was thin and almost void of body fat. the weight came from a large amount of muscle, I am sure of it. I grabbed my knife from my belt and stabbed its stomach. It screeched, and its black tar-like blood oozed out onto my blade and me, yet it made no effort to move away. Instead, it slammed its long, thin arms down on my face, I barely put my hands in the way before I felt the impact. It pulled its arms back up, and I took this chance to grab the knife out of its stomach and stab its neck. It jumped back, clutching at its neck, ripping the knife out. The knife hit the ground with a clang, I watched the thing continue thrashing, hands clawing at its neck, which was now oozing black tar-like blood. I heard it gurgle, it was drowning in its own blood. It looked at me, I think it knew it was about to die because it launched at me, it slashed at me while I ran backward, tripping over my backpack, which I left by the bar stool. I fell on my back, and the thing dove too far, flying over me with a deadly speed. I heard It hit the ground before I looked to my right, the pistol lay there, glinting in the soft sunlight leaking past the window. I threw my arm to it, grabbing it, I rolled onto my stomach, now facing and aiming at the thing that was now scrambling to get up, as it stood up, it looked at me and froze for a second, processing that I had moved. I fired, it hit its head, and it dropped dead. I slowly got up, my breath shaky, I took a couple deep breaths to calm my nerves. I decided to check how much ammo was left in my pistol. there were 6 left. I walked to the storage room, I knew something in there would be able to help me. and that's when I saw a creature clothed with a white theater mask on its face. however, I could see that it had a black face and bloated face that reminded me of spoiled food that was left out for months on end. I looked at it for around five seconds, then looked away. In about two seconds, it managed to run to me, grab my shoulder, and throw me backward the way it came from. I flew backward, my arms flailing as I screamed in panic. I hit the wall with a thud, I looked up at it, it had started looking at me. its face was smiling now. I had blinked, and it was staring at me truly. I pointed my pistol at it, blinking and shooting, when I opened my eyes, it was to the side, and I didn't notice it moved, I blinked again in confusion, and then I saw it less than 4 feet away from me. I stood up, making sure I didn't blink, I pointed the gun right at its head, and when my hand got close, it grabbed me and started swinging me to throw me again. my left hand threw itself at it, and I grabbed its mask, and as it threw me, its mask tore its face off, and what I saw after I slammed into the wall was this thing's mouth and eyes. its shiny black eyes. its mouth not moving, but it was screeching in pain. I felt my hand against something hard. I grabbed it, holding it in front of me to look at it. a rolling pin. I stood up, threw myself at it, and swung to the left right at its face. When I did, its face ripped off, I felt the rolling pin sink into its flesh as it fell to the left limp and dead. I ran out of there, grabbed my backpack, and slammed into the door, opening the front door and running away. I didn't intend to wait for another monster to show up