Arthur has a problem.

Whenever he’s happy he drinks, whenever he’s sad he drinks, and whenever he’s not drunk he thinks about jumping off a bridge.

He’s a young man with asian features standing a few inches above the average height with a lean body adapted to surviving the catastrophes, the apocalypse dragged him into the deepest depths of hopelessness but somehow he managed to sink further as he wandered alone drunk and miserable.

With a bottle in hand and a sledgehammer slung over his shoulder he stumbles around a well preserved ghost town, much like many other ghost towns the buildings are intact and the insides untouched which was good for Arthur since he could help himself to as many bars as he can.

Arthur wobbles on the sidewalk trying to make sure not to throw up the alcohol he spent hours drinking, “We can’t waste beer in this economy” he mumbles.

“Am I right guys?” He turns around calling out to someone but his words echo in the seemingly lifeless city with no one to respond to, “Guys?” He calls out once again.

He scratches his head contemplating how he got into his situation before shrugging his shoulders and chugging another round.

Within the streets of a town long abandoned signs of life may be amiss but it’s never absent, a foul smell assaults Arthur’s senses, a sun-dried corpse according to his nose. The scent wasn’t intense but it was enough to almost make him retch.

By sheer will he holds the contents of his stomach, Arthur reaches around for a small respirator one that only covers the lower half of his face. Aside from the yellow nubs which house the filter it was mostly smooth surface which was painted with bloodied gums and vicious fangs, assembled into a demonic scream.

“Come out you bitch! I can fucking smell you!” his muffled screams failed to echo in the vast emptiness.

Hearing no response his head wobbled to the direction of the scent and found a distinctly human silhouette standing in the shadows of an alley, the antlers on its head made it appear taller but in truth they perfectly see eye to eye. The creature walks into the light revealing its grotesque form, a withered deer carried by human limbs which sprout unnaturally from the corners of its body, its original hoofed legs atrophied into uselessness turning into lifeless branches, its snout smashed in creating lines and wrinkles which resemble a human face.

Arthur slings his half empty bottle which painfully bounces off the creature’s skull, it recoils back and before it could recover Arthur splatters its head with his sledgehammer. Blood and brains paint the alley red, Arthur maintains a disciplined stance despite murdering the only threat in sight, his legs planted firm hands gripping his weapon wide, on the center of his hammer’s shaft the words ‘Exterminate Evil’ are inscribed.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The entire block stank of rotting blood and Arthur stands patiently at the center, a few minutes pass and the streets come to life. The shadows dance in grotesque shapes, ragged breaths, clumsy steps, and inhuman vocalizations fill the emptiness.

They gathered at the alley’s entrance, coyotes, dogs, and deer. All sprouting human limbs, all walking and standing as if they were people.

With a hammer in his hands and the monsters right outside he charges and smashes into the horde without fear, without hesitation. Arthur’s wide grip and control of his weight allows him to swing the hammer with speed and accuracy, every lunge, swing, snap, and flick either incapacitates or instantly kills.

Blood thickens the air as the monsters that have faced Arthur’s hammer either lay dead or screaming. At first the rotting scent and the cries of agony sobered Arthur’s mind but as time went on it became an addiction, the monsters could do nothing and stand watch as Arthur broke them one by one. He lets his sadistic instincts take over, prioritizing the weak and afraid before moving on to whatever’s nearest.

His hammer was an object of fear and so were the vicious jaws painted on his respirator, many dare not to approach and the few who tried were quickly dispatched.

Victory is easy when the enemy is too scared to fight back.

Arthur stands alone in a river of bodies basking in his glory, as the ones his hammer failed to kill either crawls away in fear or writhed in agony.

“What are you doing?”

Arthur hears a voice among the cries of pain, he looks over to see a tall woman staring back. White as a cracker he thought, her red hair felt like a gentle sunset against the puddles of blood, she covered her nose with a handkerchief to help her endure the smell.

Arthur shrugs, “About time I lost my mind” he says while walking off to the side with the intention of executing the incapacitated.

The woman watches as Arthur uses his hammer to send the struggling into the afterlife, “You’re not seeing things, I’m real” she says.

Arthur pauses to look at the woman once more, “That’s exactly what a hallucination would say” he mumbles.

The woman sighs, she draws a machete and approaches the nearest corpse, she cuts off a hand and throws it to Arthur which smacks into his face.

Arthur’s gaze switches between the hand and the woman, who crosses her arms waiting for him to approach. Arthur awkwardly shuffles forward, stopping at a comfortable distance from her.

“Hi,” Arthur says with a smile. He studies the woman’s clothes, she’s armed and armored with professional gear, her eyes are sharp and stern as she sizes up Oscar who wears normal everyday clothes adorned by objects he stole from a hardware store, aside from the painted respirator and sledgehammer he wears heavy steel toed boots and thick gloves for an extra layer of protection.

Both know strength in numbers is a valuable thing, without exchanging words they’re already in agreement.

“My name is Lisa” the woman introduces herself.

“I’m Arthur” he responds.

“What were you doing?” Lisa asked.

“Nothing, just passing time” Arthur answered.

Every possible interpretation of his words is a red flag, Lisa thought long and hard about travelling with a possible psycho.

Arthur sees her confliction and makes everything worse “By the way, I have a lot of issues” he says.

Lisa shakes her head upon hearing his words yet despite being covered in blood and armed with a fresh murder weapon he felt harmless, friendly even. Arthur’s eyes looked elsewhere as he waited for Lisa’s answer, often glancing back and smiling just to let her know he’s paying attention.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was looking as his sight was locked onto a deer that’s rolling in pain the same way a human would if a sledgehammer shattered their leg.

Lisa sighs, she’s at odds between travelling with a psycho or being alone for god knows how long. “Arthur? You ever killed anyone?” She asks.

“No, not people at least,” he answers.

“Good. Let’s hope it stays that way” said Lisa.