“GET BACK TO THE OFFICE!” I scream.

  I fish the master key out of my pocket and throw it behind me as I’ve already started to charge the monster. My eyes glance over it’s name tag again and I only have a second to ruminate on the unusual name. This isn’t a zombie.

  My mana pusles in me as my skin grows hot. I feel as if I’m on fire as I ready for the fight. Two Mana Scythes extend from my arms. The world shrinks as I focus only on the monster.

  Long white hair flows behind it as completely white skin almost glows under the sunlight. It’s mouth opens revealing sharpened teeth that remind me of a shark. It screams again in that high pitched tone and I wince in pain.

  Only feet from me I watch as it raises it’s hand ready to strike at me. At the end of it’s hand five impossibly long spider-like fingers stretch out with four inch sharp claws for nails.

  Behind the red glow of its irises is the song of bloodshed. Bloodlust oozes from its very being.

  This is definitely not a zombie.

  It’s hand races down towards me. I barely manage to lean back enough to avoid the blow. It’s fast but it’s not Decker or Zombie Butcher fast.

  My scythes race out cutting deep grooves into its chest. Black blood sprays from the fresh wound as I kick out, sending it tumbling back. I take quick steps backwards creating space between us.

  Behind me I sense the others racing towards the office. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Abby looking back at me with fear in her eyes. I block them out and focus on the Banshee in front of me.

  As it recovers from my attack I summon a High Velocity Round. The blue energy spins so fast that it’s hum is a high pitched whine as it’s body elongates. When the Banshee scrambles back to its feet I let the bolt of energy fly.

  The Banshee screams louder than ever sending waves of pain through me. Pain explodes in my knees as I fall to the ground. The world fades in and out as my grasp on my consciousness becomes harder to maintain.

  As I lose focus on my spell I feel it race forwards. My High Velocity Round connects with it’s right eye exploding on impact.

  The horidious screaming stops as the Banshee reels from my attack.

  I shake the haze of pain that the scream created. As I do the world snaps back into focus.

  Looking up I see that half of the Banshee’s face is now a mess of burnt and mangled flesh. Black ooze cakes its face and rolls down it’s body like a sludge.

  Looking at it’s one good eye I see that it’s no longer just blood lust behind it’s eyes but pure unadulterated hatred. It races forwards and I realize I don’t have the time to reform my Mana Scythes.

  My hand drops to the tire iron on my belt. Claws flash in front of me and are only stopped from cutting into my shoulder by the shiny metal of my tire iron. It’s nails rake across the metal missing me by a hair's breadth.

  It’s other hand races out at me forcing me to back peddle. I’m forced on the defensive as it’s all I can do to prevent it from cutting into me.

  Instinctually my mana races out over the metal as I cast Mana Saw. The Banshee's next strike is thrown backwards at the force of my rotating mana.

  In anger it raises both it’s claws high above it’s head and brings them down.

  The tingle in the back of my mind screams at me as the claws race down. I abandon throwing the tire iron above me to block the attack and instead dive to my left.

  The claws slash through the air and their momentum carries them into the asphalt. Deep grooves appear where the claws pass through.

  I return to my feet and turn back to the thing. It’s one good eye takes a second to spot me to it’s right. In that time I’m able to form another High Velocity Round. The energy whines through the air.

  It explodes on contact again causing another painful screech. My eyes water as it howls in pain. When the screaming stops I open my eyes and see that I manage to blow the left half of its face off. Revealing ashen colored bone and black ooze dripping from the wound.

  It whips around trying to see me but both of it’s eyes are vacant holes. I breathe a sigh of relief as I feel a sense of victory wash over me.

  The Banshee snaps towards my direction causing the air to catch in my throat. Shit did it hear me breath? It screams again in it’s painful high pitch.

  My hands raise to cover my ears in an attempt to block out that horrid sound. The scream stops, leaving me breathless. I take my hands off of my ears and see blood spotting my palms. Looking up I see the Banshee grinning.

  Fucking bitch.

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  I feel the anger in me rise as my skin grows hot. She’s taking joy in my pain. Like she’s a cat playing with her food before eating it. Well I have a newsflash for her. I’m not fucking prey anymore. I’m the predator.

  I race to my feet feeling the mana in me pulse. I pull as much energy out of me as I can. Forming four tendrils of energy. With a thought they all take on the shape of scythes as I charge.

  At the sound of my footsteps the Banshee screams again. Expecting it I scream too. In hope that it’ll help drown out the thing’s retched scream. The pain is deafening and the world blurs but through the pain I focus on my mana.

  The tendrils lose their shape but I don’t care as I don’t need them to be able to cut. I close the distance between us just as the Banshee runs out of breath. I swipe out with all of the tendrils knocking her over.

  Her head lands on the ground with a wet smack. I wrap my arm with the tendrils and punch down at the things head. Black ooze sprays out across the asphalt from my atack. A feeling of satisfaction washes over me as I imagine the pain my attack caused it.

  Standing over the thing I place my foot on it’s chest pinning it to the ground. I uncoil the tendrils and refashion them into scythes. As I do it’s clawed hand snakes out wrapping around my leg. It’s claws digging deep into my skin.

  Pain flairs from my calf as I feel something wet run down my leg. I grit my teeth pushing past the pain. Fucking bitch.

  My Mana Scythes race out one after the other cutting deeper and deeper into the thing's throat. The light above the Banshee’s head flashes as her health drops with each attack. Black ooze covers the street as the Banshee bleeds out from having its head completely cut off. The clawed hand around my leg falls limp onto it’s chest.

  Through my Magical Sonar I sense my tire iron resting on the ground where I had dropped it. I wrap the mana in the air around it, lifting it and bringing it to my outstretched hand. I take a quick glance at the screen above the Banshee’s head.

Banshee

Level: 20

HP: 28/100

  I bring the tire iron up and then slam it down. Black ooze splashes out as the metal caves in her skull, dropping it’s health by 15 points. I bring the ooze covered metal back above me.

  The tire iron falls down with a wet thunk as the metal caves in more skull revealing the ugly moosh of it’s brain. The red above it’s head flashes black and I feel a wave of victory wash over me.

Banshee

Level: 20

HP: 0/100

  PING!

  PING!

Level Up

Level Up

  I turn my attention to the sky as I howl in victory. Even though I fought alone and that the Banshee was six levels higher than me I still beat it. I am the victor. I’m the one that gets to go on living another day. Joy races through me as I feel pride in my growth. I was the stronger predator.

  A tickling in the back of my mind stops my celebration. I turn around and see a group of zombies racing towards me. The pack numbers are somewhere above twenty and most are above level ten. However, I see no signs of a red light in the horde racing towards me.

  I calm my nerves as I try to back peddle. I start preparing my long range spells as I do so.

  My calf screams in pain as I put my weight on the leg. I stumble and almost fall but manage to catch myself.

  Motion catches my attention through my Magical Sonar as I feel hands and body enter my range. Sparing a look behind me I see a group of fifteen or so low leveled zombies shambling towards me.

  Taking a quick look around I find that I have zombies pushing in on me from both sides. The office building is to my back with Everett to my right.

  My mind races as I try to figure out what to do. As long as I don’t get surrounded I should be fine. All I have to do is get down to Second street. With that in mind I turn my focus to the high level group and let loose with a barrage of Rifle Rounds.

  Behind me I set the Mana Scythes still active into a flurry of attacks. I feel blood and muck splash behind me as I create a blender of swinging scythes to protect my rear.

  I start taking slow painful steps towards the office hopping that no more high level zombies are brought to me by the horde forming around me. Their moans echo in the street as I feel and watch bodies drop.

  Within seconds I’ve managed to hobble to the building, and place the building to my back. The two groups merge into one as the scythes now lash out before me in a maelstrom of destruction. Blood coats the sidewalk as zombie after zombie is cut into by my blades.

  I feel my mana drain with each attack. I stop casting Rifle Round and instead coat my tire iron in mana. The energy blazes to life as I swing out. My scythes start moving on their own as the tingle in my mind grows.

  I slash out knocking back zombie after zombie. I lose myself in the bloodshed. I forget my surroundings. The zombies become lambs to the slaughter and I their butcher. Blood soaks the streets and sweat drenches me.

  My lungs burn as they painfully try to pull in more and more air. I feel my mana pool burn away with each swipe of the scythes. Each passing moment takes more and more out of me.

  I ignore it all. The pain in my leg. The pain in my lungs. The growing hunger from my mana core. None of it matters.

  But what does matter? Does this fight matter?

  Why do I even fight? I started hunting the zombies because I want to be a predator. But what is a predator?

  I always saw my father as a predator. He was strong and didn’t care what others thought. He did what he wanted. Used those weaker than him for his own gain.

  Is that what it means to be a predator right? To have the strength to do what you want? To ignore others and impose your will on them?

  Then why did I risk my life for those people? My father would have just left them. Ran and saved himself. It would have been so easy for me to have just ran. I had the key. I had the strength to make sure they would make a good distraction.

  Yet I didn’t do that. Instead I gave them the key. I made myself into a distraction. And now I’m running out of mana and the horde seems to only have grown. I don’t see any situation here where I survive. I’m not strong enough.

  “JOEL!” A voice rings out through the street