“I’ve basically just met you two,” I said, eyeing Bernice and George in the flickering half-light of the barricaded lobby, “but if we’re gonna survive, we’d better stop playing defense. We need to pick off the biggest threats and keep them from swarming us.”
George gulped. “Monster hunting…like, on purpose?”
Bernice tapped her cane on the floor. “Smart idea, if you ask me. The building’s only so sturdy, and those things outside aren’t going away just because we’re hiding. Might as well take the fight to them—plus it could buy time for any other survivors.”
I spread a quick grin. “You catch on quick. George, you in?”
He looked pale, but after a moment, he forced a nod. “Yeah. I—look, I’m scared outta my mind, but… we can’t just do nothing.”
“Great.” I turned, peering through the cracks in the barricade. “So, first target: that spiky beast we saw? Let’s see how tough it really is.”
It was no small plan. I’d only met these two about an hour ago. But in an apocalypse, you form alliances on the fly or you die alone. Bernice had the nerve of a steel-lunged ex—something, and George had the seeds of courage if he could stop trembling long enough to aim. Me? I had an advantage no other human had—infinite respawns.
And I intended to use it.
----------------------------------------
Stalking the Streets
After prepping a little—finding a half-intact backpack with some water bottles and a first-aid kit—Bernice and I stepped outside. George volunteered to stay near the barricade’s vantage point for cover fire. He wasn’t exactly a sniper, but at least he’d call out threats or plug a bullet into something that got too close.
Wind whipped ash and dust through the street. Smoldering car wrecks lay scattered around, and the dull glow of random fires gave everything a hellish tint.
I gripped the fire axe in one hand, my trusty bat slung over my shoulder. Bernice clutched her cane, the lines of her face set.
We crept down the block, scanning for movement. A twisted lamp post blocked most of the sidewalk, forcing us into the open. Every step set my heart pounding. This was a far cry from idle scrounging.
A faint chittering noise alerted us to a pair of smaller creatures skulking amid broken glass. They looked like dog-sized scorpions with elongated limbs, their exoskeletons glistening with patches of black fluid.
Bernice frowned. “I’ll keep these pests off our backs if they come sniffing. You focus on that spiky biggie.”
“Copy that.”
We pressed forward, stepping around busted fences and twisted lumps of something I refused to identify. Occasional notifications of “You have discovered: Ruined Intersection” flickered at the edge of my sight, but I dismissed them.
CRUNCH. My foot landed on something soft—a severed monster limb, still leaking some dark gunk.
Bernice wrinkled her nose. “This is worse than the time my basement flooded, dear Lord.”
A snort of laughter nearly escaped my throat, but I held it in. The apocalypse apparently had comedic parallels for everything. At least she was staying calm.
Suddenly, a guttural roar echoed from behind a collapsed chunk of building. I raised a hand in warning. Bernice froze.
There it was—the spiky beast. Standing near an overturned city bus. It rose to its full eight-foot height, plating of bone and carapace jutting from its shoulders. Four glowing eyes sized us up.
“Showtime,” I muttered.
----------------------------------------
The First Clash
The creature charged without preamble, metal pole still clutched in one clawed hand. It swung the pole like a battering ram.
I dove aside. The impact annihilated a chunk of concrete where I’d been standing. Pebbles rained down.
Bernice, with a speed belying her age, rolled behind a scorched sedan for cover. “He’s all yours, hotshot!” she called.
“Thanks,” I growled, gripping the fire axe. “Come on, ugly!”
The beast hissed, baring row after row of jagged teeth. I dashed forward, swinging the axe at its flank. A shriek of metal on bone told me I’d landed a hit—but barely. The blade skittered off its armor-like plating, leaving a scratch.
Then it backhanded me. I felt my ribs cave as the blow sent me flying onto the hood of a wrecked car. Pain erupted in my chest.
Gasping, I forced myself up. My health bar teetered around 30%.
“Ow.”
The creature roared, closing in. I flung myself off the hood, ignoring the burning agony. I wasn’t done yet. Summoning every ounce of adrenaline, I feinted left, then pivoted, burying the axe into a softer seam near its midsection.
This time, flesh parted. Dark ichor spurted out, splashing across my face and torso. The beast howled, staggering. A system message flashed:
> -10% HP to Target
Good. That meant progress.
Then it slammed the metal pole down. I couldn’t dodge in time. The blow shattered my left shoulder in a sickening crunch. My vision blurred red with agony.
My grip slackened on the axe. The creature pounced, claws tearing into my abdomen.
I died before my scream fully left my throat.
----------------------------------------
Respawn
I jolted awake on the carpet back in my ruined apartment, the same flickering overhead light greeting me like a twisted friend. My entire body was intact—no broken bones, no gaping wounds.
I took a moment to breathe, rolling onto my knees.
Dying still sucks. That blow to the shoulder… I could still taste the memory of that pain.
But in the next second, that insane advantage kicked in: I was alive again. My gear, minus whatever I'd dropped. I still had my baseball bat in my hand, weirdly enough. The system must preserve one item? Or maybe anything in my inventory was safe.
I staggered to my feet, ignoring my shaking legs.
Bernice is out there, I realized with a surge of dread. That spiky beast could turn on her next.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
But maybe it couldn’t kill her if she was careful. She wasn’t some helpless old granny. The real question: how fast could I get back to the fight?
I dashed out my apartment door and down the stairs two at a time. George, behind the makeshift barricade, nearly jumped out of his skin. “Dan?! That was—did you just—”
“Yeah, died. Gotta go.”
With that, I hopped over the barricade, ignoring his stunned expression.
The street was chaos again. I sprinted the same path, noticing monster carcasses scattered about. Bernice must’ve fended off smaller creatures alone. The scorpion things lay in two twitching halves.
A corner away, I found the spiky beast, still wielding that metal pole. It was hunched over, something clearly paining it. My axe handle jutted from its side.
Bernice was huddled behind a chunk of rubble. She shot me a relieved glance. “Took you long enough.”
“Sorry,” I said, panting. “Busy resurrecting.”
The beast whipped around, letting out a furious screech. Blood—well, black fluid—matted its armor plating. My successful wound was still there, but it was furious now. No question.
I cracked my knuckles. “You up for a two-on-one?”
Bernice smirked, spinning her cane. “I’m game.”
We attacked in tandem.
I ran headlong, brandishing my baseball bat. Bernice flanked right, cane in one hand, a broken piece of rebar in the other. The beast lunged at me, swinging that pole again.
I ducked. The pole whistled overhead. I retaliated with a mighty overhead smash. My bat hammered into the partially cracked plating on its shoulder. The creature howled, reeling.
Bernice seized the opportunity—she jabbed the rebar under the beast’s arm, hooking at more vulnerable flesh. A wet rip told me she’d done real damage.
The creature retaliated with shocking speed, elbowing her away. She stumbled, letting out a pained grunt.
I pressed the assault. Summoning adrenaline, I battered the same spot again and again, bone and carapace fracturing under repeated hits. Thick fluids spewed across the pavement.
> -15% HP to Target
The beast roared.
Suddenly, George’s voice rang out from a building window above. “Duck!”
I dropped to a crouch without hesitation. A deafening BANG echoed—George had fired his revolver from the makeshift vantage. The bullet pinged off the beast’s exposed carapace, but it flinched, momentarily distracted.
A grin split my face. “That’s right, team effort.”
Bernice, panting, yanked the rebar free. “Let’s finish this!”
We both lunged. My bat slammed into the creature’s collar region. Bernice thrust the rebar into its open wound from earlier. The spiky beast convulsed, letting out a soul-rattling shriek.
Then, with a final, savage blow, I smashed the bat across its head. The beast’s skull caved in, shards of bone spraying across the cracked asphalt.
With a shudder, the monstrous body collapsed, twitching one last time before going still.
> +200 XP Major Threat Eliminated! Unlocked: Field Boss Loot
“Field Boss,” I muttered, chest heaving. “I like the sound of that.”
We watched as the creature’s corpse began melting, leaving behind a bizarre swirl of black fluids and bones. Then a glowing blue sphere appeared in the remains, along with a battered metal object.
“What in the world?” Bernice asked.
I leaned in, the system offering a prompt:
> Loot Discovered: Core of the Ravager (Uncommon), Mysterious Key Fragment (?)
A key fragment? My curiosity piqued. I mentally accepted both items, and the sphere plus the metal shard vanished into my inventory.
A system message flashed:
> Quest Update: The First Night Sub-Objective: Eliminate Major Threats (1/3) Additional Rewards Possible
George came rushing over from the barricade side, still breathing hard. “Holy—did we just kill that thing? And you… you died, Dan.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to appear nonchalant. “But I got better.”
Bernice gave me an up-and-down look. “Not sure I’ll ever get used to that. You sure you’re okay?”
I nodded, ignoring the mental echo of broken bones. “I’m good. Actually, I feel… stronger.”
The system beeped in my vision again.
> LEVEL UP! Current Level: 5 Points to Allocate: 3 New Skills Available
My grin widened. “And apparently I got a level-up.”
George blinked. “Uh, how does that… I mean, you look the same.”
I shrugged. “Must be a game mechanic. Let me see.”
And then, my first actual status screenn
DAN HANSON – LEVEL 5
* Class: None (Unique Trait: Resurrection)
* HP: 100% (Full after level-up)
* Stats:
* Strength: 11
* Agility: 6
* Vitality: 8
* Intelligence: 3
* Luck: ???
* Points to Allocate: 3
* Skills:
* Last Life (Passive): Auto-respawn on death, returns user to bound location.
* Batter Up (Lv.1): +10% damage with blunt weapons
* Inventory Slots: 1/2
* Titles:
* Undying Rookie: People are more likely to freak out (or idolize you) upon learning your ability.
----------------------------------------
I didn’t say the exact numbers out loud—I wasn’t sure if that was wise—but I told them the gist. “I can choose where to put some stat points, and apparently I have a new skill. Something called ‘Batter Up’ for blunt weapon damage.”
Bernice snorted. “That’s fitting, seeing how you smash skulls.”
George peered at me enviously. “So you really are… leveling up like in an RPG.”
I put two points into Strength and one into Vitality, feeling a rush of power. My muscles tensed, as if I’d done a week’s worth of workouts in a second. I exhaled slowly, letting the system’s change settle.
“Alright,” I said, “that’s done. We got a weird key fragment from that thing. Might come in handy. Also, it looks like we need to take out more ‘Major Threats’ if we want to finish some sub-objective of the World Quest.”
Bernice folded her arms. “That means more monsters like that?”
“Likely,” I said. “And I bet each kill makes us—and any other survivors—safer.”
George’s eyes flicked around nervously. “So you plan to keep hunting them?”
I wiped some gore from my cheek. “Yeah. But maybe let’s regroup first. We used a lot of energy here. The building’s not too far.”
Bernice nodded. “I’m all for that. I need a moment to breathe… and maybe a stiff drink. And we should see if anyone else survived around here. That ruckus might’ve drawn attention.”
We made our way back toward the makeshift barricade, stepping over dead scorpions. The fight with the spiky beast had changed something in the air. I caught sight of a few more creatures slithering away as if unnerved by our presence.
If monsters even felt fear, maybe they recognized we weren’t easy prey.
“Hey!” George yelled, waving to someone across the street. A man poked his head out from behind a crushed mailbox. He looked terrified.
We guided him behind our barricade, found out his name was Kyle. Another newly minted apocalypse buddy.
“Welcome to the safe zone, or well, somewhat safe,” I told him, forcing a smile. “We just killed a big walking spike tank. Figured we’d keep the streets a little tidier for the rest of you.”
Kyle stared at my gore-splattered gear, then at Bernice’s equally battered cane. He swallowed. “A-are you guys…like, a rescue team?”
Bernice let out a wry chuckle. “No, dear, just a few stubborn survivors.”
George leaned on a half-cracked pillar. “With Dan’s…uh…special gift, we can do a lot more than cower.”
Kyle looked at me. “Your gift?”
I waved it off. “Long story. Let’s just say I can come back from the dead. So we’re pushing back against these nightmares. You can stay here, or help. Your call.”
He nodded slowly, eyes showing the faintest glimmer of hope. “I’ll stay… help keep watch, if that’s okay.”
“Perfect,” I said, genuinely relieved. Another pair of eyes on the barricade was good news.
Bernice patted Kyle’s shoulder as we led him inside. “You can’t do worse than George was. We’ll show you how to reinforce the front.”
George rolled his eyes. “Ha-ha. I’m improving, okay?”
We settled the new arrival near the front windows, gave him some water, and updated him on the plan: we were hunting big monsters, either to reduce threats or because the system seemed to want it.
I stepped aside to check my inventory again, eyeing that Mysterious Key Fragment. A mental prompt revealed it was “1 of 3 shards.” So presumably, we needed two more to form a complete key.
Key to what?
Bernice approached, her face smudged with dust and sweat. “You okay, kid?”
I nodded. “Just thinking about how insane this is. But we’ve got an edge, and I’m not letting it go to waste.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips. “Good. Because I have a feeling that was just the opening act.”
I glanced at the battered clock behind the reception desk. We still had hours until dawn, and the World Quest. “Plenty of time for more bloodshed and rescue missions, I guess.”
She snorted. “Just don’t get cocky. Dying might be a minor inconvenience for you, but us mortals like to keep our guts on the inside.”
I cracked a grin. “Noted. Let’s take five, gear up, and see what else is out there for us to break.”
She gave me a playful smack on the shoulder. “Atta boy. Then let’s give the apocalypse something to worry about.”
I laughed, ignoring the swirl of carnage around us. Because in this messed-up new reality, we had one thing most people didn’t:
Hope.
And if that hope came in the form of an old lady, a shaky marksman, a new recruit, and a respawning lunatic with a baseball bat—well, the monsters could choke on it.