The adrenaline from the last battle still pulsed through Taylor and Amy’s veins as they pressed forward with the other survivors. They had barely caught their breath from facing the brute, but there was no time to rest. Every corner they turned brought the threat of more zombies, and each survivor knew that staying still for too long would only get them trapped.
Ahead of them lay Artist Alley, a sprawling corridor filled with booths and tables displaying all kinds of fan art, handcrafted figures, keychains, posters, and prints. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a bustling area, packed with fans admiring the artistry on display. Now, it felt like a haunted maze, the dim emergency lighting casting eerie shadows over abandoned tables and overturned displays.
“Do you think it’s clear?” Amy whispered, glancing around cautiously. She tightened her grip on the iron rod, eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any sign of movement.
Edward, still carrying his hammer, shook his head. “There’s no telling. Just…stay quiet, everyone,” he murmured.
The survivors crept down the main aisle, moving past rows of booths with abandoned merchandise. Each step felt like walking into the unknown, with the silence pressing in on them. But as they moved deeper into Artist Alley, Taylor noticed something odd.
“Hey, do you hear that?” he whispered, stopping for a moment.
Amy cocked her head, straining to listen. At first, there was nothing but the soft shuffle of their footsteps. Then, a faint sound broke the silence—a distant, high-pitched wail that echoed through the empty halls. It was a piercing, shrill noise, somewhere between a scream and a whistle, chilling them to the bone.
“What…is that?” the schoolgirl whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
Before anyone could respond, the noise intensified, becoming louder and sharper, like nails scraping across a chalkboard. The group winced, covering their ears, but as the sound continued, Taylor felt an ominous sense of dread.
“Run,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We need to get out of here—now!”
The Shrieker Zombies Appear
They didn’t get far before the source of the noise came into view. From behind a booth staggered a zombie dressed in an eerie, blood-spattered cosplay of Rei Ayanami from Neon Genesis Evangelion. Its head tilted back as it emitted that same shrieking sound, its mouth open far wider than any human’s should be able to. The noise was unbearable, sending shockwaves of pain through the survivors’ heads.
Amy gritted her teeth, holding her hands to her ears. “What…is that thing?”
Taylor grimaced, his mind racing. “I don’t know, but it’s calling the others!”
As if in response to the shrieking, more zombies began to shuffle into Artist Alley from all sides, drawn by the sound. Some wore elaborate anime costumes, others were casual fans, but each one had the same vacant, terrifying look in their eyes as they moved toward the group with unnatural coordination.
“We need to silence it!” Taylor shouted, wincing against the shriek. He raised his staff, ready to charge, but another high-pitched scream cut him off. This time, it was coming from his left, then another from his right. More of these shriekers were appearing, each one emitting the same piercing sound that drew the horde closer.
Fighting the Horde and Silencing the Shriekers
The survivors scrambled for cover, ducking behind booths and tables, but it was only a matter of time before the zombies closed in. Taylor and Amy knew they couldn’t wait for the shriekers to gather the entire horde around them—they had to take action.
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Taylor steeled himself, looking at Amy. “I’ll take the one on the left. You handle the one over there!” he said, gesturing toward the Rei Ayanami zombie.
“Got it!” Amy nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. She clutched her iron rod tightly and darted toward the first shrieker, navigating through the chaos.
As she neared the zombie, its shriek reached a crescendo, nearly splitting her eardrums. Amy winced but pushed through, swinging her iron rod in a wide arc. The rod connected with the side of the zombie’s head, cutting off its scream in a sickening crunch. The silence was brief, but it was enough for her to catch her breath before another shriek sounded from nearby.
Meanwhile, Taylor moved swiftly toward his target, a zombie dressed in a cosplay of Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop. This one was shrieking just as loudly, sending more waves of zombies their way. Taylor gripped his staff, swung it down onto the shrieker’s head, and silenced it with a hard, decisive blow. The zombie crumpled to the ground, its scream abruptly ending.
Realization of the Hive Mind’s Organization
As the twins regrouped with the others, they noticed something strange: when the shriekers fell, the zombies around them seemed to hesitate, as if momentarily disoriented. The eerie synchronicity that had driven them forward faltered for a split second, and the twins exchanged a glance.
“They’re organized,” Taylor murmured, the realization sinking in. “These shriekers are controlling them…or at least guiding them somehow.”
Amy nodded, her face grim. “It’s like they’re giving directions. The horde doesn’t seem as focused without them.”
Edward overheard and looked alarmed. “So if we take out the shriekers, the rest of them won’t be as coordinated?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Amy replied, glancing around. “But they’re probably going to get more aggressive the deeper we go.”
Narrow Escape Through the Artist Alley Maze
Despite their small victory, the danger was far from over. More shriekers began to appear, each one drawing more zombies into Artist Alley. The survivors had little choice but to weave their way through the maze of booths, darting in and out of narrow spaces to avoid the incoming horde.
“Over here!” Taylor whispered urgently, motioning for the group to duck into a booth lined with manga posters. They crouched behind the table, holding their breaths as a cluster of zombies shuffled past, their groans echoing off the walls.
One of the zombies, dressed as Light Yagami from Death Note, turned its head in their direction, and for a heart-stopping moment, the group froze, praying it wouldn’t notice them. But it eventually moved on, joining the others in the search.
Taylor exhaled quietly, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We can’t keep dodging them like this. We’ll get trapped sooner or later.”
Amy nodded, glancing around. “If we can take down a few more shriekers, maybe we can slip past without attracting the whole horde.”
Final Encounter with a Cluster of Shriekers
They crept through the rows of booths, their eyes scanning for more shriekers. Near the far end of Artist Alley, they spotted three of them grouped together, each emitting their piercing cries in intervals. Zombies poured into the room from every entrance, drawn by the shriekers’ screams.
Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “We have to take them out—fast.”
The survivors spread out, approaching the shriekers from multiple directions to avoid detection. Taylor raised his staff, signaling to the others. Then, in unison, they struck.
Taylor swung his staff at the nearest shrieker, silencing it instantly. Amy lunged at the second, smashing its head with her iron rod in a single, decisive blow. The third shrieker managed to let out one final scream before Edward’s hammer came down, crushing it to the ground.
For a brief, glorious moment, the lobby was silent, save for the heavy breathing of the survivors. The zombies around them seemed to lose focus, stumbling around aimlessly without direction.
A Moment of Realization and Planning
Taylor took a deep breath, glancing at the others. “That’s it. The shriekers are like…commanders. Without them, the zombies can’t organize as well.”
Amy looked around, her expression thoughtful. “But there’s probably more of them, right? If we keep moving, we’ll need to watch for these shriekers and take them out first.”
The others nodded, their faces set with determination. They had discovered a small advantage, but they all knew it wouldn’t last long. The zombie horde was vast, and Artist Alley was just one part of the convention.
Taylor turned to the group. “Alright, we keep moving forward, keep an eye out for any more shriekers, and stick together. Let’s find a way out before they regroup.”
With renewed resolve, they began moving through the dimly lit halls once more, heading toward the next section of the convention center, prepared to face whatever horrors lay ahead.