Wide trails of crimson decorated the amber sand, like an artist had gotten clumsy with their brushstrokes. I was that artist. My axe, the brush.
The head of the last goblin bounced across the ground, their severed neck spraying blood to the sand like a miniature fountain. I stood in the middle of the corpses, breathing heavily. A wild grin on my face.
It had been over as soon as I had gotten into melee combat with the group of five short greenskins. They had been angered and eager to take a bite of me, but the first sword-wielding monster was the victim of my Killing Blow. With an upward swing, I had split his ribcage apart, and his organs decorated to the warm ground. The other four had frozen in panic, and only put up a token resistance.
I growled as I pulled the arrow from my right shoulder. Fuckin’ hated ranged weapons. Giving the corpses a look of disdain, I withdrew a potion bottle and downed the red liquid. Vile. They had gotten a few minor hits on me - my ability to block and parry amateur at best. If they had been level 2 or had an elite, I would have fared a lot worse.
Still, I didn’t feel bad about picking on the weak. After killing the Elite reptile, this was enough to edge me almost to the next level. Then, if I could grind out another one, I’d be able to choose my first Class back at the bunker. I wasn’t sure if I was even looking forward to that - or getting my hopes up for no reason. It sounded like greater power, but I was ready to be let down.
Ah, there was my usual pessimism.
//Scarlet: Any luck on the diner scouting?
//Bernie: 10 minutes.
Enough time for me to loot these monsters and get part of the way to the building. Hopefully there was nothing terrible between here and there, although Bernie hadn’t picked anything up so far.
My eyes went up to my notifications to see what the System thought about me bullying the goblins.
[Two-Handed Axe Mastery 2]
[Skull Breaker 3]
A little more damage, always beneficial. At this rate, my axe mastery would be the first to hit level 5, and then I’d see exactly what kind of boosts were available. I checked the surroundings before looting the goblins. Looked all clear.
[17 Gold]
[Water flask (3)]
[Goblin Spear]
[Puzzle Piece #329]
“I would spit on you, but that would be a waste of moisture.” I shook my head at the paltry loot, before withdrawing one of the flasks. My mouth was dry, after all.
Thankfully, the goblins seemed to be carrying around fresh water. I downed the first one and gasped, glad for some actual hydration. The rest of their makeshift camp didn’t look worth the wood it was made of, but I kept the empty flask for the future. I’d save one water for Bernie, but the other I might need… would need, if I was out here all day.
Against better judgement, I had a look at the description on the new puzzle piece.
[Puzzle Piece #329]
[Well, isn’t this puzzling!]
Disgusting. It was exactly the same message as the other one I had found. I was half tempted to throw them out of my Inventory, but there was a very low chance I’d regret it. Maybe I’d find a puzzle club in the future and we could pool pieces together to finish… whatever it was.
I sighed and stretched out. Had this invasion not happened, today I would be scrounging around for part-time work to make ends meet. After tipping the waitress, I didn’t have much left for temporary accommodation…
With a frown, I patted my pockets down. I must have left my wallet in my bag in the bunker. Thankfully, the only ID in there was a fake one. Anything else in it was pretty useless now - same for my other bags still stowed in the dead van. There might be a change of clothes, though…
//Bernie: Scouted!
//Bernie: There’s… Richard is talking my ear off, hang on.
//Bernie: …
//Bernie: He says to advise you to avoid the diner entirely.
//Scarlet: You can tell him… whatever expletives you feel comfortable saying.
//Scarlet: What’s there? Another Boss?
My stomach tightened as there was a brief silence. If it was that, then I didn’t have much hope for the two women there. It was only over the next dune or two and I’d be able to see for myself… although I didn’t remember the desert being this bumpy before.
//Bernie: No, not a Boss. High-density monster group.
//Bernie: All level 2, Zombies.
//Scarlet: Are we talking shamblers or sprinters?
//Bernie: I’ll… ask Richard, as I don’t know what that means.
A zombie-infested diner. Either a death trap, or… hmm. Overconfidence was often how people died in the movies. As much as I was improving in my combat ability, if the monsters were fast, then I’d be overwhelmed in seconds.
//Bernie: He says… more like Dawn of the Dead than 7 Days Later.
I rolled my tongue around in my mouth. There was that taste again. I noticed last night that he had said ‘Jesus Christ’ when seeing my ghoulish appearance. A very Earth reference. There were a few explanations that could easily tie up why, but now that he knew about zombie movies… it had my hackles up.
But they were the slower kind.
//Scarlet: How many?
//Bernie: I just get a vague 20+ at this level.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. All I could think of was the waitress sliding across her number, that damn nervous but friendly look on her face. You’re using this as a proxy for saving yourself. I shook my head and told myself to shut up. This was my world-ending therapy session, after all.
//Scarlet: I’m doing it, otherwise I’ll never have closure.
//Bernie: Be safe.
Be less stupid would probably be a better final message. A horde of zombies? The pair were likely dead, and among the ranks of the walking corpses. It would be a sour reality that I was half prepared for. Still, it was the nearest real building to the bunker. We needed supplies, and I didn’t fancy our chances if I had to drag Bernie outside the bunker to survive.
It was only a few more idle thoughts about what I was really doing before I got my first view of the diner.
Yeah. Damn thing was packed with the bastards.
I froze in position just to take it all in. Switching from one terrifying situation to another, this was the first to really strike that chord of horror within me. An actual crowd of undead hungry for living flesh - and the most monsters I’d seen in one location. They swarmed around the building like a bunch of angry sports fans, some of the windows broken already. Hope was fading, but...
It was time to gamble again. I was on a lucky streak, which surely wouldn’t end right at the same place this whole thing started.
My feet took me forward. Part of it was ego. I was better than these monsters… better than the aliens trying to take over the world. That I could survive. Had to survive. All I had to do was avoid getting bitten. I could at least plunder the building for what it was worth, rather than go back empty-handed.
It took a while for the zombies to sense my approach, but gradually they did. The closest few turned, groaning at the air as if they were sniffing me out. Then, like a flock of birds, they moved in my direction encouraged by the shuffling of the others.
Easily twenty-five to thirty of them, as several stumbled their way out of the broken doorway of the building.
I steeled myself and got a tight grip on the Threadcutter. A fool would rush in, try to overpower them in a whirlwind of violence. I knew a little better, even if my experience stemmed from video games and movies.
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The group funneled toward me as I paced back and forth at a distance. If they were hungry, they’d have to work for their food.
Now that they were close enough, I got a good view of the undead. Humans rotting and decayed. Blind eyes that couldn’t see me, but their extended hands knew exactly where I was. Dressed in all manner of casual wear matted and dirtied with blood and bodily fluids.
Any disdain and anger I had simmered away to distilled calm. Do or die.
Before the first could reach me, I took two long steps towards him and slashed out with the axe. The zombie’s head burst like a watermelon, and I stepped back away. As the first flopped over, the second missed their lunge toward me. I reacted by jabbing forward with the end of my weapon, catching them in the side of the head and breaking their fragile neck.
Another step back away and to the right. It was called ‘kiting’. I’d get a kill or two and retreat, leaving the gormless dead as a slow trail behind me. There was enough space in the desert for me to run circles around the diner. Naturally, fate would have me trip over something - so I just had to watch my step.
They were... a little quicker than I had expected. The sheer mass of them—a crowd hungry for my demise—was unsettling.
I took a flammable sac into my hand, the warm balloon-like object slimy in my grip. Still backpedaling, I threw it past the nearest shambler and struck one a little further back. The sac exploded in a brief flash of flame before the liquid within acted like an accelerant, setting three zombies on fire. They continued to stumble about, inadvertently catching others aflame.
Two steps and I swung in, severing the arms of one zombie before turning and following-up, opening the torso of a second. This monster flashed red.
I acted by impulse, the adrenaline of Killing Blow bringing me into the fray. With a heavy overhead swing, I finished them off by splitting them almost entirely in two - my axe cutting from head to groin like it was going through butter. I kicked the remains of the zombie away as the skill wore off.
Deflected the bite of the armless monster with the shaft of the weapon, before turning and lashing out at another, splitting their arm through their hand and up to the elbow. They flashed red.
The throes of combat took me again as I tensed up for the execution. With a quick twirl, I spun the large axe in a full circle twice. Not only did I sever the head of my target, but Threadcutter turned another four zombies into bloody ribbons and shattered limbs.
They were trying to encircle me. Making a break for the empty space would allow them an opportunity to attack me. Fine. If this was how I was going to go out…
I twisted away from a clumsy lunge, running the blade of my axe along the back of their neck, severing it. Turned a jab from the blunt end into a lash out at another. The zombies on fire lost the desire to pursue me and instead stumbled, confused away from the main throng - even as they set others on fire.
A rotten body collided with me and I slid across the dry sand so as to not tip over, barely staying on my feet. I kicked out, humbling a weak knee so that I could maintain my position. Raised my arm and decaying teeth bit into my bracer. Dreadful thing actually protected me. I head-butted the offender before twisting the blade through their neck. Stomped on reaching hands from one crawling at me. Broke a skull and then disemboweled putrid organs.
Killing Blow.
A wide slash that severed three bodies and then I threw a knife that had appeared in my hand. My ability was doing its best to keep me standing, but my muscles were burning with exerted energy. For every twist and cut, another corpse just took the place of the slain. Eventually I would tire.
But the thought that kept me moving wasn’t for the diner, or Bernie, or even the world.
I just wanted vengeance.
A life lived in the gutter now picked up and throw in the dumpster. I reviled the aliens. Every single monster brought here to kill and test humanity. Those roach puppet-masters hiding in the wings.
Fuck survival. That wasn’t enough.
I was going to kill every last one of these motherfuckers.
With anger once again fueling my furnace, I switched stance and went on the offensive. The Threadcutter spun in my hands as I unleashed an unrelenting series of blows. Inaccurate and reckless. Still, body parts were severed and brains were destroyed. I shoved them when they grabbed me. Kicked, punched, and made sure to seal the deal on those suffering injuries.
Killing Blow activated, and I sliced through the zombie’s stomach, causing them to hunch over. I spun and struck their head with the flat of the blade, bursting their skull into fragments.
My eyes ablaze, I looked for my next opponent.
But there were none. Aside from a few stragglers still loitering around the diner interior, the path of destruction from my position to them was soaked with gore. I took a few deep breaths, feeling nauseas from the smell.
The STAR rang bloody murder.
[Killing Blow 3]
[Two-Handed Axe Mastery 4]
[Skullbreaker 4]
[Against All Odds 2]
[New Passive: Decimator: Undead 1]
[Level Up]
[You are now Level 4]
[Received 2 unassigned stat points]
I spat on the nearest corpse to try to get the bad taste out of my mouth. No such luck. The post combat lull was hitting, and I didn’t have the energy to fully engage with the System bullshit. I flicked away the notifications congratulating me for getting my first disease and curse, and just knocked back one of the Full Restore potions. Something of a cure-all that would heal all the damage taken as well as remove poisons and diseases. Probably something to be used sparingly, but I was over it.
Looting could wait until I scoped out the diner. Plus, there were still a handful of zombies left and it would be far too ironic to sit and sift through the trash they dropped while a couple snuck up on me. I sighed and looked at my soaked clothes. It was only late morning - it would be forever until the System decided to fix my gear back up.
//Scarlet: I didn’t die.
//Scarlet: Checking diner out now.
I didn’t bother waiting for a reply. My attention switched to the building as I approached. Having a few brain cells left, I even took a route a good distance away from the trail of corpses I had left. One of them might just be pretending. I… almost felt proud of myself.
The remaining undead fell with little issue. It was as if they were dazed or confused, and didn’t have the help of the horde to make them a threat. I stepped through the doorway - the actual door looked to have been broken off of the hinges. Axe through the head of the one ahead as I kicked away a second, bringing the blade around to meet them. There were just three left now, all behind the counter by the door leading to the back.
That put them at a disadvantage.
I glanced around the diner. Place looked like a shitshow now. Bile and grime all over the place. A few corpses of zombies who couldn’t hold out long enough for me to arrive before perishing. So far, none of them looked like Sally. I worked my jaw and exhaled through my nose.
There might still be supplies in the back, however.
From this side of the counter, I lashed my axe into the zombies. They couldn’t even reach me, and aside from knocking a few cups to the floor, they were only able to groan briefly in frustration. Didn’t even seem too interested in eating me.
I flicked the thick blood from my weapon and walked around the counter. It was now a slippery mess, but I made sure to crush their skulls all the same. Taking no chances. I stopped by the doors, a frown on my face. They looked… locked or barricaded?
“Anyone there? I’ve killed the zombies.” I pulled a face and shivered. Wishful thinking, maybe. I might have to take my axe to the door to get in.
Then… there was a sound. I tilted my head, trying to make it out. Didn’t sound like footsteps, although it was difficult to be sure. I opened my mouth to speak again-
And the doors burst open.
A figure wearing a gas mask stepped out suddenly, and I backed away from the long shotgun barrel pointed out in front of their right arm. The sun caught the green lenses of the mask, along with the blonde hair behind it.
“Scarlet?” the muffled voice came from behind the re-breather.
I looked past the waitress to see a short, portly woman, her gray hair up in curls, brandishing a large knife in her hand.
“You both survived,” I managed to say. Was it relief washing through me? It was hard to tell, but it made my reckless actions seem a bit more rational. Or at least validated.
“Is this a zombie apocalypse?” Sally pulled the mask off of her head, revealing a worried face that clearly hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. “I had a feeling you’d come back.”
There was something about this woman that always disarmed me. Far too trusting and positive, she kept dodging all the walls I put up to stab a screwdriver in where it felt uncomfortable. Pried open, I tried to give her a smile.
“Yes, and no. Zombies are part of it, but the apocalypse is… more complicated than that.”
“Damnit.” The waitress shook her head and frowned. “It would have to happen while I was working, huh? It’ll take me ages to find Theo. Oh!” Her annoyance turned back to genuine concern again. “Is Bernie… is he...?"
“He’s safe. There’s a bunker nearby. I’ll need to take you there or… at least point you in the right direction.” I bit my tongue. They were saved, so I owed them nothing more. I really didn’t want to have to explain the STAR and space cockroaches. Fuck, could I even get them in one of the pods? Should I?
“This is Scarlet, Doris,” Sally said to the woman behind her. “The one who really liked your scrambled eggs.”
“Nice to meet you?” Doris replied, unsure. She still looked ready to stab me.
I couldn’t blame her. My clothes were covered in blood and sweat, and I was carrying a large battleaxe. My eyes went from my weapon to the shotgun the waitress held, and then to the kitchen area. Leaving them to make their own way to the bunker wasn’t the worst idea, and it was clear enough that I didn’t have to protect them.
With the System, I was able to loot everything not nailed down and wouldn’t need to worry about helping them carry things. They could load up a couple of bags and meet up with Bernie. Have a fuckin’ picnic and wait for me to save the world. Yeah.
“Impressive that you managed to kill all the zombies,” Sally continued, undeterred. “You must be really taking to this well.”
I grunted. “Eh, you have no idea. It’s actually…” My words trailed off as I caught the concerned eyes of the waitress. I knew I looked quite the state, but...
“Scarlet…” she said. “You’ve been bitten.”
Pulling a face, I lifted up my left arm to see a wound that was still a little bloody. I must have needed an extra bandage to top off. My eyes went to my HP, which said… 100%.
“Oh shit,” I murmured, as I flipped to my Health Status Screen.
[Zombie Curse]
[Left untreated, you will turn into the living dead]