I hastily pick up the scattered bullets and reload my gun. I walk over to the Mystery Machine™. Remembering my earlier brush with danger, I purchase two extra magazines and a hatchet. I also buy a basic first aid kit, and a standard backpack. I also find some neat things I might want to buy after saving up. I consider buying a bigger gun, but decide against it because I'd probably just hurt myself.

I stuff the first aid kit into the backpack and set the hatchet next to me, in case a zombie gets too close. I put the magazines in either of the pockets of my jeans for easy access.

Feeling thoroughly prepared, I wait behind my fort idly for the next wave. Rather than relaxing me, the extra time gives rise to anxiety.

Final Wave!

Objective: Survive until all undead are slain

"Final wave?" My anxiety is replaced with surprise. "That's it? After this I win?"

I grin excitedly at the news... until a cynical thought creeps its way into my head.

I frown with concern. "There's no way it's that easy."

The echoes of a bone chilling wail can be heard outside the door, followed by a cacophony of much closer groans and gurgles. A half dozen pair of red eyes stare at me from the shade of the open doorway.

Staring at all those eyes, all I can think about is how I should have bought that bigger gun.

I hastily pull out and aim the gun at the closest zombie, firing as steadily as I can. Pop! Pop! Pop!

Two bullets go wide, while the third hits its shoulder, only serving to disrupt its balance for a moment.

I continue firing, managing to fell the zombie at the cost of two more rounds. I fire the final round into the crowd of approaching zombies without checking the result and quickly drop the spent magazine, replacing it for the one in my pocket. With a click-click! I cock the gun and continue firing.

By the time I finish the final magazine, there's only one zombie left. I set the spent gun on the desk and pull out my hatchet. I scoot the pile of desks and chairs away and run at the zombie. I swing widly, letting my fear pump my body with adrenaline induced strength and guide my crazy swings.

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Under the brutal swings of my hatchet, the dismembered zombies red eyes go dim.

I catch my breath while staring at the gory mess of blood on the floor. Now that I think about it, these zombies are rather fragile. I hadn't noticed with my mind clouded by fear, but the only reason that zombie from the last wave managed to get so close was because my fear tripped me up. Ignoring their appearance, these zombies are just weak and slow humans.

I wait for awhile, but the "Objective Complete!" notification never comes. I scratch my head. "I killed all of the zombies. Was there something I missed?"

A sudden thought strikes me. I bolt back to the desk to grab my gun. Before I can reach my gun, a grating wail comes from behind me. I whip my head around, hugging my hatchet close to my face with two hands.

Crouching in the doorway is an eyeless husk of flesh and bones, with an odd skeletal shape and an impossibly gaping mouth filled with shark-like teeth. It screams a high pitched, dry shriek. The sound freezes me in place, my instincts screaming "RUN!".

It rushes at me on all fours, showing a scary amount of agility for a shriveled corpse.

It leaps at me, serrated teeth inches from my face. I snap out of my mental paralysis and my arms move faster than they ever have in my entire life. With a disgusting crack, the flat of the hatchet connects with the side of its face and sends it flying backwards. It quickly reorients itself in mid air, lands like a cat, and rushes at me again.

I again smack it in the side of the face with my hatchet, like a baseball player hitting a homerun.

Landing gracefully, it sprints at me savagely, letting out a soul piercing scream. I freeze in place for a split second.

The hollow monstrosity takes advantage of the moment and topples me to the ground. Like a rabid beast it lashes at my face while its long pointy nails dig into my chest.

My eyes bulge and my teeth clench as I fend its wicked teeth off with the handle of my hatchet. It breathes in a frenzy, blowing the smell of rancid meat in my face.

I scream in defiance and rage as I adjust my weight and fling the frenzied monster off me. I roll to my feet and savagely meet its next charge. With the force of both my arms behind it, the hatchet bites deeply into its shoulder. With the flat of my foot I cave its dehydrated face in until the vile thing quits moving. Even after it falls to the ground lifelessly, I swing my hatchet at it while screaming incoherently. I shriek profanities as I chop up its body into an unrecognizable heap of trash. I don't stop until my arms wont swing anymore. For a moment I just stare at the mass of flesh that use to be a monster. At some point I collapse onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Objective Complete!

Granted 1,000 tokens

I barely even notice the notification. I scream at the air, at the bastard who threw me into this hell with a delighted smile on his face calling it a "fun game".