The survivor slammed another mutant with a load of buckshot to the chest. He pumped the action and took aim at the next creature in line. He immediately fired, tearing off its oversized jaw in a spray of dark blood. Surprisingly, it was still alive, its arms outstretched toward him, its clawed hands ready to grasp at his face. With ease, the survivor sidestepped the approaching mutant, putting a load of large pellets into the back of its skull. Half of the creature’s head exploded in a shower of gore, and the monster collapsed to the wooden floor with a loud thud.
40 XP, 50 XP, 60 XP, he counted in his head the experience points he was getting for killing the mutants.
He put down a couple more ex-humans before his pump-action shotgun ran dry. He wheeled around scanning the room for more targets. Taking a handful of shells out of his jacket pocket, he shoved them into the loading port. Working the action, he brought up his uncommon level 15 shotgun, ready to engage another mutant.
Only there weren’t any left. He’d killed all the ex-human mutants that had been in this house. It was very quiet now. Disappointed, he lowered his weapon. He needed just a few more kills to level up to 18.
“Doesn't matter,” the survivor muttered to himself. He wasn’t in a hurry. Once outside, he would encounter enough enemies to kill, so it wouldn’t take him long to level up.
This new world was teeming with mutants. However, the survivor no longer felt threatened by it. On the first day after the Collapse, he’d been completely terrified. Danger awaited around every corner, and scary mutants that had once been human beings could pounce on you from anywhere. However, he’d managed to survive. During the next several days, he leveled up to 17. He wasn’t scared anymore. He could now handle himself, and low-level ex-humans no longer posed any kind of threat to him.
While he was in the relative safety of the house, he decided to check some of his stats. He took off his backpack and sat on his haunches. He put his rucksack on the floor and undone the buckle at the front. He reached his hand inside and foraged through the contents until he found what he was looking for. He took out his handheld PC, also known as a personal digital assistant or PDA for short, and pressed his thumb to the touchscreen to unlock the device. The screen lit up, illuminating his face.
It was late evening, and the room was dimly lit by the setting sun. The corners of the room were enveloped by darkness. The soft glow coming off the screen of the device was the only artificial source of light in the room. The survivor was so engrossed in his PDA that he failed to notice a black form lurking in one of the dark corners. The creature stood completely still, merging with the surrounding darkness. It studied him for a minute or so before stepping out of its hiding spot.
The survivor caught a glimpse of a movement from the corner of his eye. Dropping his PDA, he grabbed the shotgun and jumped to his feet. Wheeling around to face the new threat, he brought up his weapon, the buttstock snug against his shoulder.
“What the hell is that?” he muttered when he saw what the new mutant looked like.
He’d never seen such an ex-human before. The creature had a human figure, but that’s where any resemblance with a human being ended. Its skin was black-colored. The creature seemed to be made of tar or obsidian. Its body appeared to be damaged – it sported deep slashes and holes that emitted faint bluish light. The mutant didn’t have ears, a nose, or even a mouth. It had two scary, unblinking eyes that stared at him without any expression.
The creature’s obsidian skin was so dark it was no wonder the survivor had failed to spot the mutant in the darkness. What the hell was that creature? How long had it been standing in that dark corner?
The mutant suddenly lurched toward him, ending his line of thought. He jumped aside just as the creature reached out for him, its hands transforming into long nasty claws. The mutant turned out to be surprisingly fast. Before the survivor could readjust his aim, the creature swung one of its clawed hands at him, catching his shoulder. The sharp tips of its claws tore through the fabric of his clothes, digging deep into his flesh.
Screaming in sudden pain, he stumbled back. He tripped over the body of one of the mutants he’d killed and fell on his back. Fortunately, he didn’t let the shotgun slip from his grip. Just as the obsidian mutant stepped up to the survivor and was about to pounce down on him, he squeezed the trigger. The shot tore a huge hole in the middle of the creature’s chest, the force of the impact sending the mutant flying backward.
Surprisingly, the mutant was still alive. It rose on its elbows and slowly sat up. It then got up to its knees, but that was the extent of it. The mutant tried to get to its feet but didn’t find enough strength to do that. So it continued to stand on its knees, staring at the survivor with its emotionless eyes. The huge hole in its chest ejected a strange greenish-blue glow matching the light seeping from the other wounds on its body.
That’s what you got for blood, huh?
Keeping his shotgun trained on the ex-human, the survivor sat up. He took one of his hands off the weapon and picked up his PDA. Pointing the device’s camera at the obsidian mutant, he pressed the SCAN button. The information about the mutant appeared on the screen. It was called Ex-Human Morphus, its level was twelve, and it was an ordinary mutant, not elite.
What the survivor had just learned about the ex-human surprised him. It was an ordinary mutant, and it was five levels weaker than him, yet it’d somehow managed to get the drop on him and even wounded him.
The survivor put away his PDA and held his shotgun with both hands again. He stood up and took a step closer to the ex-human. The mutant didn’t move at all, but its expressionless eyes watched him. The survivor walked a little closer to the motionless mutant. He’d never encountered such a creature before. However, not letting his curiosity get the better of him, he stopped a safe distance from the mutant. If it suddenly jumped to its feet, he would have plenty of time to shoot the monster dead.
For a moment, the survivor studied the obsidian-black monster kneeling before him. He still couldn’t get over the fact that the mutant turned out to be so strong and agile even though it was only level 12 while he was level 17. He took stock of the numerous slashes and holes on its body, from which seeped faint greenish-blue light. What had happened to the mutant prior to encountering him? Some of the holes might have been bullet wounds, so maybe before holing up in this house to lick its wounds, it had been fighting other survivors. From the look of it, the mutant had barely managed to get away from them.
Unfortunately for you, I’ve stumbled into this house, the survivor thought. You should’ve stayed hidden instead of attacking me.
He initially hadn’t even been aware of its presence in the room and would’ve left the house without realizing it’d been standing in a dark corner all along.
Maybe the mutant had thought it could defeat him while he was distracted checking his stats on his PDA. He wasn’t sure if the ex-humans were capable of thinking, though. As far as he knew, they were unintelligent creatures.
Another question popped up in his mind. Why hadn’t the morphus attacked him while he was dealing with the other mutants? Why wait until he dealt with them? It might have had much better chances of defeating him if it’d fought him alongside the other ex-humans.
The survivor shook his head as if to get rid of all these thoughts. He was never going to find out what was going on in this creature’s head anyway. Trying to find the answers to these questions was just a waste of time.
It was time to finish the mutant off. He readjusted his aim, pointing the muzzle of his shotgun at the ex-human’s faceless head, wondering how many experience points he would get for killing the morphus, or whatever this mutant was called.
Just as his finger tightened around the trigger, something unexpected happened. Something snaked out from behind the mutant’s shoulder and zipped through the air toward him. It looked like a black tentacle ending in what looked like a double-edged blade. The tentacle seemed to have grown from the mutant’s shoulder blade, and it’d happened so freaking fast.
In a fraction of a second, the long tentacle covered the distance between the otherwise motionless mutant still kneeling on the floor and the survivor. He swung his shotgun up, trying to take aim at the mutant’s long undulating appendage, and squeezed the trigger. Unsurprisingly, he missed his mark – the tentacle was moving way too fast.
Before he could pump his shotgun, the blade at the tip of the tentacle sliced across his throat, moving with lightning speed, cutting through flesh and cartilage with surprising ease. The survivor’s eyes went wide when he realized what had just happened.
No, no, no.
He dropped his weapon and brought his hands up to the nasty slash across his throat. His fingers tightened around the wound, trying to stanch the bleeding, but the blood kept seeping from between his fingers, both his carotid arteries and jugular veins having been severed.
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It can’t be happening, he wanted to say, but the only sound that came out of his throat was a gurgle.
He stumbled backward, lost his footing in panic, and collapsed to the floor. He kept his fingers wrapped tightly around his throat, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop the flow of blood. Through the veil of red mist hanging over his eyes, he saw his enemy stand up. Its long tentacle got detached from its body and dropped to the floor. It withered and turned into dust in mere seconds.
He’d never encountered a mutant with such a nasty ability. The morphus had grown a long tentacle in less than a second and gotten rid of it when it was no longer needed. In his opinion, it was wrong for a regular mutant to have such an overpowered ability.
It’s not fair, the survivor thought, staring at the pile of dust that used to be the tentacle seconds ago. I should’ve won this fight, not some lousy mutant!
The ex-human began to walk toward him in a casual, relaxed manner. The survivor knew he was done for. The shotgun was way out of his reach, but even if he could reach it, taking his hands off his throat would only result in intensifying the bleeding and therefore hastening his demise. Yet he wished he could’ve sent the morphus back to whatever hell gave it birth.
The ex-human stopped a few steps from him. For some reason, it didn’t finish the job. It did something surprising instead. The mutant half turned, dropped into a crouch beside his rucksack, and began to rifle through the contents.
What the survivor was witnessing surprised him a great deal. He’d never seen a mutant take an interest in survivors’ things. And what the mutant was looking for anyway? It appeared that it knew what it was doing, looking for something specific instead of just randomly searching through his things.
A second later, the mutant seemed to find what it’d been looking for. It dug out the blue mana crystal that he’d found a few hours earlier. The crystal was pretty large, about a foot in length. From within its transparent surface seeped a bluish glow.
What do you need this rare item for? the survivor thought as he watched the mutant through the red mist in his eyes. He knew he would die in the next several minutes, but despite that, he couldn’t help but feel amazed by what he was seeing. The obsidian-black mutant seemed to know exactly what it was doing. This creature almost seemed intelligent. Hell, maybe it was intelligent.
The ex-human pushed his rucksack away, now focusing on the crystal in its hands. The mutant stared at it for a moment, then clenched it in its fist. With an audible crack, the crystal crushed. The survivor couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Those things were literally indestructible – no bullets, explosions, sledgehammers, or anything else could break mana crystals. However, the one in the mutant’s hand shattered as soon as the creature closed its fingers around it. It was hard to believe such a thing could be possible.
Bluish energy flowed from the cracked crystal toward the mutant and vanished into its obsidian body. As soon as it happened, all its wounds began to close, including the huge hole in its chest inflicted by his shotgun. In mere seconds, all its wounds disappeared without a trace. The mutant was completely healed now. It opened its hand, and the transparent shards of the broken crystal clinked to the floor.
The survivor realized he didn’t have much time left. The world before him was quickly plunging into darkness.
“H–Help,” he managed to croak. “Puh… Ple—”
He didn’t know who he was talking to. The mutant clearly wasn’t going to do anything in order to save his life. Why would it? It couldn’t even understand him.
However, the ex-human heard him speak even though it didn’t seem to have anything resembling ears. The mutant turned its head and looked at him. Almost everything was dark before his eyes by that point. The only thing he could still see was the mutant’s expressionless scary eyes staring down at him.
“H–Help–p. I don't… wanna—”
The mutant reached inside his rucksack again, but the survivor couldn’t see what it dug out this time. He heard the mutant move closer to him, surely to finish him off, but there was nothing he could do to protect himself. He expected the mutant to slash its claws across his body, but something else happened instead.
He felt a familiar light prick on his neck. He immediately realized what it meant. The thing the mutant had taken from his rucksack was a stimpak – an autoinjector loaded with a variety of healing medications and stimulants – and the mutant had just used it on him. The drug instantly took effect, and the nasty wound in his throat began to heal. The darkness before his eyes dissipated, and the bleeding stopped. His wounded flesh was healing miraculously fast.
Without any emotion in its eyes, the mutant stared at him for a second, then stepped aside. The creature was intelligent – the survivor knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt now. Not only had it understood what he’d said, but it’d even saved his life.
But it was still his enemy.
The survivor watched the ex-human bend down and pick up his PDA from the floor. It straightened out and looked at the glowing display, scrolling some info showing on the screen with its finger. Now that the survivor knew that the mutant could understand human speech, he wouldn’t be surprised if it could read too. But what was it looking for on his PDA?
Not that it really mattered to him. Being engrossed in his PDA, the mutant paid him no mind, giving him a chance to deal with the mutant. His throat had completely healed by that point, and he felt he was ready to bring the fight to its conclusion. He glanced at his shotgun lying on the floor a few steps from him.
He glanced at the mutant one more time to make sure it still wasn’t paying him attention. Then he rolled to the side, reaching the weapon in less than two seconds. He grabbed the shotgun and rolled over on his back, pointing his shotgun at where the mutant stood.
Only it was no longer there.
What?!
He caught a glimpse of movement off to his left. He glanced that way and saw the mutant standing there facing him.
How did it get there so fast?!
The survivor hadn’t even heard it move. How could it be so quiet? But he had no time to ponder on the matter. He pointed his shotgun at the mutant and squeezed the trigger. A fraction of a second before the weapon fired, the ex-human dashed aside, all the pellets missing its body completely. He pumped his shotgun, but before he could fire again, the mutant was on top of him. Now that its wounds were healed, the mutant moved even faster than before—the survivor wasn’t even able to track it with his gun.
The ex-human tore the weapon from his hands with such power it almost broke his index finger, which got stuck in the trigger guard for a second. Tossing the weapon aside, the obsidian mutant towered over him. The survivor lying on the floor realized he’d just made a huge mistake.
“No,” he begged. “Please…”
The mutant watched him through its expressionless eyes. While the mutant’s face didn’t have any facial features, the survivor somehow knew that his enemy wouldn’t show mercy to him this time. It’d spared his life and healed him with a stimpak, but after his brash attempt to kill it, the mutant wasn’t going to forgive him.
A long blade extended from the mutant’s right wrist.
“Please, no… Argh!”
The ex-human swung its weapon at the survivor. The tip of the blade cut so deeply into his flesh that his head almost got detached from the neck. The survivor lived only for a second longer before his wide-open eyes glassed over and his body went stiff.
For a moment, Jake stood over the dead body, looking down at the survivor he’d just killed. When the survivor lay on the floor, trying to stanch the bleeding from his wounded throat, he’d been staring up at Jake with a shocked look in his eyes as if he couldn’t believe he’d lost the fight to a mutant. It was understandable. He’d most likely killed lots and lots of mutants since the Collapse. Regular ex-humans weren’t much of a threat to him anymore. He must have deemed himself the apex predator by that point. Therefore, it was just too damn much of a shift in reality to suddenly be the prey.
Anyway, he’d let that stupid survivor live, but he’d wasted it. He’d had nobody but himself to blame for that. Giving the matter no more thought, Jake retracted his blade and wheeled around. He located the PDA lying on the floor where he’d dropped it when he spotted the survivor roll toward his shotgun. Stepping to where the device lay, he picked it up and resumed reading the survivor’s diary from where he left off.
After a minute, Jake was done. He hadn’t learned anything particularly interesting, though. The only thing that he learned was that the survivor had a stash where he had some of his supplies stored away. There might be some more mana consumables there. He checked the map on the PDA to learn the location of the survivor’s stash. It wasn’t too far from this street – just a few blocks north of here.
Spotting nothing else of interest on the PDA, Jake dropped the device. Thanks to his inhuman mind, he was able to memorize the exact location of the stash so he didn’t need to carry the PDA on him. He looked at the rucksack one more time. It held some canned food, bottled water, shotgun shells, stimpaks, and some other stuff. None of which was of use to him, though. All of those things were for survivors, not him. All he needed were mana consumables because they contained magical energy that was essential for his own survival. If he got lucky, he would find some more of them in the dead survivor’s stash.
Before leaving the house, he decided to check his stats. Unlike survivors, he didn’t need a PDA or any other device to check his attributes, abilities, skills, and other stats. He could call up his statistics any time he wanted with a mere thought.
Name: Jake Turner
Race: Ex-Human Morphus
Evolution Stage 1: “Primordial Form”
Level: 12
XP: 1350/1625
SP: 0
MP: 5,735
Body: 3
Mind: 1
Magick: 1
Claws: Rank II (39%) (Common)
Bladed Tentacles: Rank I (17%) (Common)
Swords: Rank I (24%) (Common)
Enhanced Senses: Rank II (96%) (Common)
Enhanced Agility: Rank II (77%) (Common)
Enhanced Intelligence: Rank II (64%) (Common)
He noticed that he now had enough MP to acquire some new skills and abilities, but it was a matter for a later time. He first wanted to get to the survivor’s stash to check if there were any more mana consumables. There was never enough mana around here.
As Jake was leaving the room, his gaze fell on the body of the survivor he’d killed a minute earlier. Not so long ago, he had been a survivor too until some incident turned him into a mutant. But unlike any other ex-humans, he still had his self-awareness and ability to think. Only survivors didn’t know that. To them, he was just another ex-human mutant they needed to kill for XP. Having no reliable means to communicate with survivors, Jake couldn’t tell them he wasn’t just another mindless monster they deemed him to be.
It had all started just a few days ago with the event known as the Collapse…