2024-10-10 16:21:06The world ended on a day like any other.
Marcus sprinted down the once familiar streets, now in the grip of chaos. Abandoned cars cluttered the road, their horns blaring uselessly into the dusty afternoon air. People ran in all directions, some screaming for help, others attacking each other in frenzied panic. The sky was tinged with an eerie red hue, a reminder of the catastrophe sweeping across the country. Just a few hours ago, everything had been normal. He had been normal.
Then the news broke.
It started like any other viral headline: "Breaking News! : Unexplained Violent Outbreaks Across the Country."
At first, it was just contained random acts of aggression, riots erupting without cause in major cities. Marcus had seen the videos circulating online, each one more horrifying than the last: people attacking others with mindless rage, their eyes glazed over, faces twisted with unnatural hunger. Experts on TV scrambled for explanations ranging from terrorism, a new virus, or even mass hysteria.
But then came the terrifying footage of people eating each other.
The infected with rapidly decaying bodies, moving with jerky, unnatural motions, biting and tearing at flesh. The reality of it hit Marcus like a truck. This wasn’t some elaborate hoax. It was real. It was happening.
And now, it had reached his city.
The only thought in Marcus's mind was to get home. Sarah. He needed to make sure she was safe. Everything around him was descending into madness, but as long as they were together, they could figure this out. They had to.
He reached his apartment building, out of breath, his mind racing. The streets were empty...too empty, and the air was thick with tension. Something was wrong. The faint sounds of shouts and crashes echoed in the distance, but here, it was too quiet.
As Marcus pushed open the door to his apartment, his heart sank. The door wasn’t fully closed which was unlike Sarah as she would never leave their door open. No. His pulse quickened. Those things couldn’t have gotten here already, could they?
He tiptoed toward the bedroom, his breath caught in his throat. Voices. He could hear muffled voices. At first, he thought maybe Sarah had barricaded herself in, but as he reached the door, the laughter that drifted out stopped him cold. It wasn’t the terrified sound of someone hiding, it was... intimate.
Marcus's hand trembled as he pushed the door open. His heart pounded in his chest, fear and confusion twisting together. But what he saw was worse than any nightmare.
Sarah was in bed, tangled in sheets, her body pressed against Eric’s, Marcus’s best friend.
The betrayal slammed into him like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of his lungs. His vision blurred with disbelief. How? How could this be happening now, of all times? His chest burned, not from the chaos outside, but from the betrayal inside this room.
"Marcus..." Sarah’s voice was cold, almost indifferent. She didn’t even bother to cover herself. Eric smirked, sliding out of the bed as if nothing were wrong.
“You picked a hell of a time to come home, buddy,” Eric said, his voice laced with smug arrogance. "But hey, survival of the fittest, right?"
Marcus’s fists clenched, his emotions spiraling between betrayal and rage. “What the hell is this?”
Before Sarah could answer, a loud crash echoed through the apartment. All three of them whipped their heads toward the living room as the sound of splintering wood and guttural growls grew closer.
Eric's face paled as realization dawned. Was one of those things actually here?
“Oh, God,” Sarah whispered, fear creeping into her voice. She clutched the bedsheets, eyes wide.
Eric didn’t hesitate. His survival instinct kicked in, and without warning, he shoved Marcus hard in the chest. “Deal with it!” he yelled, using the momentum to push Marcus out of the bedroom and toward the oncoming threat.
Marcus stumbled back, his body colliding with a chair in the living room just as the door burst open completely. A figure lurched through the doorway, an infected, its skin hanging loose, eyes vacant and hungry. It let out a chilling growl, charging straight toward Marcus.
Eric grabbed Sarah’s wrist and dragged her toward the back of the apartment, leaving Marcus between them and the undead.
“Eric! Sarah!” Marcus shouted, but they didn’t stop. They ran, abandoning him without a second thought.
As the zombie lunged at him, Marcus barely had time to react. His hands shot up instinctively, but the force of the zombie’s weight knocked him to the ground. They tumbled together, rolling across the floor, Marcus’s heart pounding as he fought to keep the creature’s snapping jaws away from his face.
I’m going to die.
The zombie’s decayed teeth gnashed inches from his throat. Marcus struggled to push it off, adrenaline flooding his system. His hand brushed against something solid, the leg of a nearby chair. Desperately, he grabbed it, swinging with all his might.
The chair connected with the zombie’s head, but it wasn’t enough. The creature kept coming, its rotting hands clawing at his arms. Marcus hit it again, harder this time, but the force of its bite was too fast. Its teeth sank into his forearm, pain flaring through him.
Marcus screamed, he suddenly felt as if someone lit his veins on fire and his blood had become lava. He shoved the zombie back, his mind clouded with the terror of what was happening to him. With a final, desperate effort, he swung the chair once more, smashing its edge into the zombie’s skull. The creature finally fell, its body going limp as it collapsed to the floor.
Marcus collapsed against the wall, cradling his bleeding arm. His breath came in ragged gasps. The room spun as the reality of the situation set in.
Is this where I die?
His thoughts became foggy, the edges of his vision darkening. He could feel the virus coursing through his veins, his body growing weaker by the second.
His eyes fluttered shut as exhaustion overwhelmed him, and just before everything went black, a single thought crossed his mind: Am I going to become one of them?
Marcus awoke to a strange, cold sensation running through his body, and then something else, something mechanical, but not a voice. A presence. It felt like his consciousness had tapped into something new, something... powerful.
-Congratulations. You have successfully survived the infection and evolved!
The words seemed to materialize in his mind, strange yet oddly reassuring. Evolved? His thoughts were fuzzy, his body heavy, but he felt like he could run around all day and not get tired. For someone who has just been at this point of death this wasn't normal but the energetic feeling he was experiencing right now didn't feel like an illusion. The infection hadn’t killed him. It had... changed him.
-Reward: 100 XP for slaying one zombie. You have received: 1 Gene Crystal (Spatial).
Level up!
Marcus’s head spun as the system, or whatever this presence was, continued. A translucent crystal appeared in his mind's eye, shimmering with a strange energy.
-Would you like to begin assimilation of the Spatial Gene?
He blinked, still half-convinced he was dreaming. What is this? But after everything, after the betrayal, after fighting off a zombie with his bare hands...well not exactly his bare hands but a chair wasn't much of a weapon. Either way, he was willing to accept anything at this point.
With a thought, he accepted.
The moment he did, his body was wracked with a new sensation. His muscles tensed as a surge of power coursed through him. He could feel his cells changing, adapting, growing stronger.
Then it came.
A head splitting migraine that made him instantly collapse to the floor as he shook like a seizure prone patient.
The pain was overwhelming, but beneath it, there was something else, a cleansing. The rest of the infection was burning away, replaced by something new, something more powerful.
Sweat poured down his face as his skin tingled, and he felt a strange heat building under the surface. Then, the dirt, dark, greasy filth began seeping out of his pores, as if his body was purging itself of impurities.
When the sensation finally subsided, Marcus gasped for air, feeling lighter and even stronger than a few moments ago. His muscles were taut, his senses sharper than before. He flexed his hands, feeling the power coursing through them.
-Assimilation complete.
The presence returned, this time offering more than just strength.
-You have received your first ability: Spatial Blades.
Marcus stared at his hands, and with a thought, thin, razor-sharp blades shimmered into existence around him, each one crafted from the very air itself. They hovered for a moment before disappearing with a flicker of his will.
The ability seemed to come to him on an instinctual level. How that works, Marcus had no idea but it was clear that the world was changing.
The world might have ended, but Marcus’s new beginning had just started.
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The night air was thick with tension as Briggs, Clara, Ian, and Erika pressed forward through the shadows, their every step calculated to avoid detection. They moved along the edges of abandoned vehicles and shattered barricades, the distant chaos of gunfire and screams serving as a grim reminder of their limited time. A sudden guttural growl stopped them in their tracks. From the corner of a dilapidated building, an infected stumbled into view, its lifeless eyes locking onto them. It hesitated for a fraction of a second before breaking into a sprint. "Down!" Clara hissed, pulling Ian to the ground as Briggs swung a metal pipe he had picked up earlier. The improvised weapon connected with a sickening crunch, sending the infected sprawling. Erika stepped forward, finishing it off with a swift strike from a crowbar she had scavenged. Ian stared at the corpse, his breathing ragged. "How...how are they moving so fast? Did they evolve or something?" "No time for a biology lesson," B
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After leaving the checkpoint where they had dropped their names and basic personal information, the military personnel directed the group to separate testing stations. Clara glanced around, noticing how the others were being led off in different directions, each to their own station. She was alone now, and that only heightened her nerves. “Step forward,” barked the medic at her station, motioning to the spot in front of him. Clara approached cautiously, keeping her expression calm despite the storm of thoughts racing through her mind. The medic adjusted his glasses and began explaining the procedure. “We’ll start with a temperature scan, followed by a quick blood draw. Standard protocol to check for any abnormalities,” he said, reaching for a handheld scanner. Alarm bells rang in Clara’s mind. 'Hell no.'Forcing a polite smile, she let her compulsion powers surge to life, their subtle influence weaving into the medic’s mind. Her thoughts pressed against his, implanting the sug
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The floodlights made it nearly impossible to see beyond their glaring intensity. The command from the loudspeaker boomed once more. “Civilians! Kneel down with your hands on your heads! Do it now!” For a moment, the group stood frozen. Hope flickered briefly in Erika’s wide eyes. “It’s the military,” she whispered, her voice tinged with cautious optimism. “They’re here to help.” Marcus frowned, his grip on his axe loosening slightly. Briggs glanced at him and then at Clara, who looked skeptical but resigned. “Let’s not make this worse,” Briggs muttered. “If it’s the government, we might finally catch a break.” Reluctantly, Marcus lowered his axe, setting it on the ground with a dull thud. He dropped to his knees, raising his hands above his head. The others followed suit, although Clara hesitated for a heartbeat before complying, wincing as her injured shoulder protested. The sound of boots hitting pavement grew louder as soldiers descended from the helicopters on ropes,
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The group trudged through the deserted streets, their boots crunching against the shattered glass and debris. Marcus walked in silence, his axe slung over his shoulder, but the thought gnawed at him. The vent—their supposed escape route—had been blocked earlier. Something about that didn’t sit right with him. Finally, unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, he broke the silence. “That vent,” Marcus started, his voice cutting through the eerie stillness. “It was blocked earlier. How?” Clara froze mid-step, her body tensing for a fraction of a second before she quickly resumed walking. Her mind raced. 'He’s suspicious.' Taking a deep breath, she focused her thoughts, reaching out mentally to Erika and Ian. This wasn’t just about silencing doubts—it required precision. Implanting false memories wasn’t her strongest suit, but she had no choice. She concentrated hard, weaving her thoughts into their minds. 'You didn’t block the vent. You never saw it blocked. Everything was norm
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Marcus raised his pistol, aiming at the advancing bikers, only to hear the hollow click of an empty magazine. He cursed under his breath—he was out of ammo. With no other choice, he slung the pistol over his shoulder and pulled out his axe, gripping its handle tightly. The weapon felt reassuringly solid in his hand, its blade gleaming under the faint moonlight.Just as he was about to charge, a shot rang out, and Clara cried out in pain, clutching her arm as blood began to seep through her fingers. Marcus's jaw clenched as he glanced at her. This bastards were certainly not going to let them leave here alive.Without another thought, he surged forward, swinging his axe with brutal precision. The first biker he encountered barely had time to register the threat before Marcus buried the blade into his shoulder, forcing a shocked gasp from the man as he crumpled to the ground. Marcus wrenched the axe free, his eyes cold, and turned to the next target.Each swing was a blend of speed and
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The bikers shoved Clara, Erika, and Ian forward, forcing them toward a crumbling, abandoned building looming like a haunted skeleton against the night sky. The gang members laughed and jeered, clearly enjoying the helplessness of their captives.Clara glanced around desperately, hoping to spot some way out. But before any plan could form, a sharp, commanding voice sliced through the evening air behind them."Release them, or I’ll start popping bullets," the voice drawled, cold and confident.Everyone turned, and there stood Briggs, holding a rifle steady and pointed at the gang, his expression all business. Beside him, Marcus watched with narrowed eyes, taking in the scene, his arms crossed and posture tense. His gaze was sharp, calculating.The tattooed leader barked out a laugh, his men’s guns immediately swiveling toward the newcomers. “Well, well,” he sneered, flashing a crooked smile, “look who decided to crash the party.”Briggs cocked his head, his finger resting just above the
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As the sun dipped below the horizon, evening shadows stretched across the desolate streets, casting an eerie calm over the scene. Clara, Erika, and Ian carefully made their way out of the building, each step cautious, as if even the ground itself could betray them. Clara kept her grip on her compulsion spell, feeling its fraying edges; maintaining control over two people this long wasn’t easy, and it was beginning to wear on her.A burst of gunfire split the silence, distant but unmistakable. Ian’s head snapped up, a glimmer of hope lighting his face. “Think it could be Briggs?” he asked, his tone almost pleading.Erika shot him a look, harsh and skeptical. “Don’t be an idiot. We blocked the only exit. No one’s getting through there.”Ian became confused. “And why did we block the exit?"Erika’s face clouded over, and her expression wavered between confusion and irritation, as if her mind was trying to piece together a memory just out of reach. Clara felt her influence slipping, a tin
Chapter 15
Elara lay tense in the pod as the warmth in her veins intensified, creeping through her arms, spreading up to her shoulders, and seeping into her core. Her body felt like it was being enveloped in a strange fire—both cold and burning at once. A sharp sting flared at the base of her spine, and she clenched her fists, trying to keep her breathing steady, but the sensation was relentless.The compound had triggered a reaction at the cellular level, initiating the "adaptive response" the old man had described. Deep within her, every cell was reacting to the foreign neutral gene, which was nudging each strand of her DNA into a new configuration, unlocking dormant sections of her genetic code. Elara could almost feel her body being rewritten, as if someone were tearing her apart and piecing her back together from the inside out.A sudden, stabbing pain shot through her chest, and she gasped, her body straining against the restraints as the heat turned searing. Her muscles tightened involunt
