I met a guy in a village while I was trying to survive cholera. We were just standing there, menacingly staring at one another. I've decided to break the ice by asking for some pills. He fed me four bullets. I turned a corner and emptied a whole mag of ammo in his torso. I then retreated through a nearby doorway and went upstairs to cover my wounds. My heart was racing and I was loosing blood quickly. He followed me with a baseball bat in his palms. I knew I had to act fast, so I crouched, dodged a couple of his swings and hit him back with a straight pipe wrench. What followed was a life-death "fist fight". Both of us were loosing blood and consciousness quickly and before we knew it, we both passed out. I thought for sure that was it, but then, to my amazement, I woke up. Instinctively, I proceeded to bandage my wounds. The guy was laying next to me, motionless, dead.