Hardcore Gamer: As soon as I was clear of the crash, I started running. Broken humanoid figures – zombies, though the word seems utterly inadequate – lurched toward me from all sides, reaching out to grab me with their putrifying hands as I scrambled to escape. Somehow I managed to weave around them and make my way toward the end of the street before ducking into a nearby gun shop for cover. I found some bullets behind the counter, but before I could even get them into my gun the ravenous horde crashed through the front window of the shop and came for me. Hammering the trigger, I pumped round after ineffectual round into their limping corpses as they stumbled ever closer. Sure enough, they got to me before I could take even a single one of them down, and after a few seconds of struggling they overpowered me and began to rip my organs out. Blood splattered across my vision, the world around me faded into nothingness, and I was left sitting on the couch, shaking in terror and on the verge of tears. I was gripped by an unshakeable fear so profound that for five years hence I was unable to sleep in darkness.