The midday sun shone brightly over Cleveland, Ohio, not a cloud in sight for miles. The cracked pavement streets, overrun with rusted vehicles and rubble from destroyed buildings, were slowly but surely being overtaken by nature. Weeds and trees pushed through the cracks, and vines and moss crept up the sides of the abandoned structures. 

Traversing this ruined city was a young boy, a happy grin plastered on his face. His entire being radiated a joy that seemed completely at odds with the destruction around him. He found beauty in everything—the glint of sunlight off broken glass, the smell of mossy concrete, even the eerie silence. The occasional skeleton haunting his path didn’t dim his spirits for a second. 

In fact, he was in such a good mood from the beautiful day that he began to sing his favorite rock song:

"Take me down to the Paradise City

Where the grass is green and the girls are pretty!"

The boy, around fourteen or fifteen, had messy brown hair and deep, chocolate-brown eyes that shone with happiness—an emotion that seemed out of place in this world. He was skinny, with stained, slightly torn clothes clinging to his frame. Armor made from duct-taped cardboard and magazines wrapped around his forearms and shoulders, offering at least a little defense against any infected that might try to bite him. Though, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t too confident about how well it would hold up—it was a recent, untested DIY project, after all.

“Just an urchin living under the street!

I'm a hard case that’s tough to beat

I'm your charity case, so buy me somethin’ to eat!”

As he sang, he practically skipped into a nearby utility store, scanning the shelves for anything useful. In this post-apocalyptic world, even the most mundane pre-outbreak items could mean the difference between life and death. Just the other day, he’d scavenged some duct tape, which he used to make a makeshift spear with a couple of kitchen knife blades fastened to a cool stick he’d found. The ramshackle spear now rested haphazardly over his shoulder as he walked through the warehouse-like store, still singing without a care. But if you looked closely, you’d see his eyes flicking sharply to every shadow, his ears tuned to every creak—a practiced awareness beneath the carefree exterior. 

The store was practically picked clean. Only the occasional item remained on the shelves, but nothing of real use—gardening tools that couldn’t double as weapons, cleaning supplies, grills, and rusted lawnmowers. He had hoped to find a bike, but they were either rusted to hell or missing their wheels.

As he wandered deeper into the store, his singing grew louder, more dramatic. Near the end of the song, he closed his eyes and started air-guitaring.

"I wanna see how gooood it can beEEeEee!" he wailed in a horribly off-key voice. "Oh, oh, take me hoooommmmeee!"

He stopped singing just to jump around, making ridiculous guitar sounds with his mouth as he strummed imaginary strings, picturing himself on a stage, performing for a massive crowd.

His voice echoed through the empty store as he spun and leapt, completely uninhibited. But on his final jump, he tripped over a rotten box and crashed into a metal shelf.

"Crap!"

Old cardboard boxes tumbled down, showering him in dust and debris. He covered his head with his arms, coughing as dust clogged his throat. Something particularly heavy slammed into his back, making him grunt, but he kept his head protected until the cascade finally ended.

When the last of the junk settled, he pushed it all off and opened his eyes—only to see a rotted, emaciated corpse sprawled on top of him.

He yelped, shoving the body away as he scrambled to his feet, heart pounding in his chest. His eyes darted around, scanning for any infected, but the store remained silent. After a few tense moments, he let out a shaky breath, his pulse slowing.

"What the hell were you doing up there, my friend?" he muttered, staring at the body. The man looked to be in his thirties—hard to tell, really, with how far gone he was. The skin was rotted, stretched thin over a malnourished frame, and patches of hair clung stubbornly to his scalp.

That’s when the boy spotted it—a backpack slung over the corpse’s shoulders.

"Score!" he grinned, quickly crouching to pry the backpack free. It was gross, sure, but he’d dealt with worse. He grimaced through the task, the decomposing skin sticking to the straps.

"Blegh," he muttered, making a face as he finally tugged it free. But his frown quickly flipped back into a grin when he felt something shift inside the bag.

After a quick sweep of the corpse to make sure there was nothing else of value, he moved a couple aisles over and plopped onto one of the shelves, eager to inspect his find.

The backpack was in decent condition, save for a small hole near the top. Basic, with two large compartments and a couple of smaller pockets, but it was still a great find—he hadn’t managed to get his hands on a proper pack until now.

Unzipping the bag, he found a flashlight with no batteries, an empty water canteen, a box of old matches, and a map of the city. His grin widened in satisfaction and he used his gift to store everything away.

8/10 slots

He never got tired of that. Watching things just... disappear into thin air was still the coolest part of this whole system.

His grin only grew wider as he unfolded the map, the creases worn but still legible. It was a detailed layout of Cleveland and the surrounding areas, but what really caught his attention were the pen markings scattered across it.

There were sections marked “LOOTED”, others with quick notes like “people spotted here”, and one area to the south circled in bold red ink with the word “RAIDERS” scrawled beside it. But the marking that really made his eyes light up was a large red skull drawn over one of the biggest hospitals in the city. Above it, in shaky handwriting, was written:

“Avoid at ALL COSTS!”

The boy chuckled under his breath, tilting his head at the map. “Interesting…” he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eye.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After pocketing the map, he gave the rest of the store a once-over but found nothing useful—just some large tarps, which he stuffed into his new backpack. With the sun starting to dip lower, he figured it was time to head back to his camp.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

As he stepped outside, he spotted a wall covered in cordyceps. The fungus clung thick to the bricks, its tendrils weaving into every crack and crevice. He vaguely remembered from the show that disturbing the fungus could alert infected nearby, thanks to that hive-mind thing.

Better not to risk it, he thought, steering clear. After all, he wasn’t sure if he was in the TV show canon or the video game canon—maybe even a weird mix of both. But he was leaning toward the game version, especially after seeing those warning signs around the city about airborne spores. That had freaked him out at first, until he realized that if the spores in the air were dense enough to infect you they were pretty easy to spot. Still, he’d missed out on some good looting because of them.

Shaking off the thought, he focused on the present. It was getting late, and he had no intention of wandering after dark.

The fading sunlight painted the city in gold and crimson, casting long shadows across the streets. Despite the destruction, the boy couldn’t help but admire the beauty of it all. Shattered windows reflected the warm glow, and the greenery reclaiming the buildings looked almost peaceful in the dying light. He decided not to hum on his way back, instead letting the silence settle around him.

Eventually, he reached his building—one of the last intact skyscrapers in Cleveland, flanked by a shorter structure. Circling around the smaller building, he spotted the ladder he’d used earlier and climbed up quickly. Once at the top, he grabbed a rope attached to the ladder’s bottom rung and pulled, retracting it into itself. He tied the rope to a nearby pipe and gave it a few sharp tugs to make sure it was secure.

Satisfied, he walked over to the edge of the roof, where a thick wooden board connected the rooftop to a broken window in the skyscraper. The makeshift bridge was wobbly but reliable.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto the plank, glancing down at the alley below. The surge of adrenaline made him chuckle under his breath. Never gets old, he thought as he crossed.

Once inside the building, he navigated the empty office space with ease. He’d cleared these floors weeks ago, and while the lower levels still teemed with infected, he trusted his blockades to keep them out. He’d barricaded both the main staircase and the emergency stairwell with heavy furniture and debris, sealing off the danger below. 

Leaving the office, he entered a dim hallway, the flickering light from the broken windows casting eerie shadows. At the end of the hall, the open elevator shaft gaped like a mouth, a dark void stretching deep into the building’s bowels.

He approached the edge and peered into the blackness, a shiver running down his spine. The faint, distant moans of infected echoed from far below, but he trusted his barricades enough to feel safe—for now.

To his right, the ladder leading up the shaft caught his eye. He’d been meaning to cut it off below this floor to prevent anyone from climbing up, but he hadn’t figured out the best way to do it yet. With a shrug, he grabbed the rungs and began his ascent.

The climb was easy with his light frame, and after a few minutes, he pulled himself onto the top floor.

Before doing anything else, he made sure to block off the elevator shaft. He wedged a large wooden board across the opening, then pressed it in place with a heavy desk. To be safe, he stacked a few more pieces of furniture, ensuring it was as secure as possible.

Finally, he let his guard drop

The top floor was half-collapsed, with a large gaping hole on one side of the wall, with the ceiling being collapsed right above it. But the boy didn’t mind. The fresh air and cool breeze felt good after a long day of scavenging. He figured if winter came, he’d move to a lower, more secure floor—but for now, this was home.

His camp was tucked under the remaining roofed section. A sleeping bag lay nestled among his belongings: a small campfire built on concrete slabs, a cooking pot suspended above it, and a tent stashed in the corner just in case. Nearby, a small stash of food, water, weapons, and tools was haphazardly piled up. In the corner, leaning against a wall, were several bike parts-a little project of his.

Against the wall stood a cabinet filled with spare clothes and a growing collection of comic books scavenged from around the city. A painting he’d found in surprisingly good condition added a bit of color to the otherwise gray space. And, of course, the potted plant by the window—the only other living thing up here with him.

Looking around, he felt a deep satisfaction. It had taken a while to set all this up, but it was finally starting to feel like something safe, something comfortable.

The sun had set by now, but the full moon lit up the city, casting everything in a soft, silver glow. As the boy moved inside, his stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since morning.

With a grin, he decided to treat himself. After all, today had been a good day.

He plopped down beside his makeshift fire pit, pulling up his gift with a thought.

Survival system

Currency: 5

Store:

Consumables

Medical

Weapons/Tools

Vehicles

Misc.

Favorited Items☆

Inventory 8/10:

Medical kit - 2

Hunting knife - 1

Soup - 1

Water bottle - 1

Matches - 1

Flashlight - 1

Water canteen - 1

He still wasn’t sure what god or cosmic entity had dumped him into this world, but hey, at least whoever—or whatever—hadn’t left him completely helpless. The system was his lifeline. With it, he could purchase supplies using an in-game currency.

So far, the only way he’d found to earn points was by killing infected. Runners gave him one point each, while Clickers were worth three. He’d managed to take one of those bastards down—barely. Not something I want to attempt again, he thought, chuckling at the memory. He’d only survived because he managed to shove a knife up under the Clicker’s chin just before it could bite him.

The inventory slots were another perk. Ten spaces, each about a cubic foot. If an item was bigger—even by a centimeter—it took up two slots. Annoying, but manageable. He’d learned to be selective. Even something as small as a box of matches took up a full slot, which meant no room for hoarding junk.

So far, he’d only bought the medical kit and some food from the store. The med kit had cost him five points, and the canned food was one point for three cans. Food was his main priority, though. Water was easier to come by with Lake Erie just a ten-minute walk from his camp. He’d fill up a few containers, carry them back, and boil the water in the mornings before heading out to scavenge.

But food? Food was getting scarce. Lately, he hadn’t found anything. If he didn’t start hunting infected for points soon, he’d run out of supplies. But thanks to the map he found earlier, he had an idea of where he could stock up-The hospital. He planned on heading there tomorrow. Any place people avoided had to have something good hidden inside… right? 

It was video game logic, sure, but considering this world was based on a game, he figured his reasoning would hold up. 

He shook his head, pushing those worries aside. Those are tomorrow’s problems. Tonight was for celebration. If he was planning to risk his life tomorrow, he might as well splurge on a good meal tonight. After all, what was life if you didn’t enjoy it?

Nothing worth living, he thought with a giddy smile.

He navigated to the Consumables tab in his system, scrolling through the options. There were categories for canned food, meat, vegetables, hot meals, etc. His eyes lit up as he selected the Hot Food section.

A menu popped up with options that made his stomach growl louder. He grinned and picked a piping hot Italian sub for three currency. Another screen popped up asking if he wanted to add sides and toppings for an extra point.

Hell yeah.

He loaded the sub with everything—lettuce, mayo, oil, vinegar, black olives, and a mountain of pickles. For the side, he chose fries with a cup of ketchup.

Currency: 1

His currency was dangerously low, but the food that materialized in front of him made any lingering regret disappear. On his lap was a foil-wrapped sub and a box of crispy fries, the smell alone making his mouth water.

He unwrapped the sandwich and took a massive bite, groaning out loud in pure satisfaction. It had been over a year since he’d had anything but scraps and canned food, and this… this was heaven.

He devoured the sub in record time, licking his fingers clean before finishing off the fries. His stomach felt like it might burst, but he didn’t care. A feeling of satisfaction filled him that he hasn’t felt since arriving in this world.

Leaning back, he let the feeling wash over him for a few moments before standing up and walking to the open section of the floor. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the empty wrappers out of the building, watching them flutter down like leaves.

He’d been in this reality for about a year now.

When he first woke up, he was alone in the woods, nearly starving before he discovered the system. Luckily, he’d been gifted with ten points. That had been enough to buy some food and keep him alive just long enough to figure things out.

For the first ten months, he barely survived in the wilderness, living off nuts, berries, and the occasional can of food from the store. Eventually, he realized he couldn’t stay out there forever. The city was dangerous, but it offered more resources—and more opportunities to fight infected for currency. When he came here he didn’t have anything, a sharpened stick being his most effective weapon.

Now, he was stronger, smarter. He could take down infected with a bit of preparation, and that meant he could eat more regularly too. Plus, looting the bodies of unlucky survivors had become surprisingly fruitful.

Shaking off the memories, he focused on the view in front of him.

He sat down on the edge of the building, his legs dangling over the side as he stared out at the city bathed in the light of the full moon.

From here, he could see Lake Erie perfectly, its surface shimmering in the moon’s reflection. The docks of the west basin jutted out into the water, dark silhouettes against the glowing lake. It was moments like this that reminded him why he loved this world more than the one he left behind.

 In his old world he had been sick all his life, practically bedridden since birth. His life had been pain and misery, but now he was gifted with a new body. A body that could walk! And run! And cartwheel and do flips! 

Well… ok, he can't do a flip but he could learn! 

He could do whatever he wanted, be whoever he wanted! There were so many possibilities! He could travel the world, see things he never could before, meet all kinds of interesting people! He knew this world was far from a paradise, but to James Calen, this world represented…

Freedom