Part 1: Zombies

Head throbbing Milo opened his eyes and then quickly shut them again. The small candle on the desk next to him was blinding. Opening his eyes slowly again, he looked around and quickly saw that he was in a very small room that looked like it was from the Middle Ages, with only a candle and something that wasn’t Middle Ages, that looked like a mirror. Standing up he tried to walk to the mirror but promptly fell, after trying to stand up again he made it to the mirror.

When he looked in the mirror he almost fell again.

What the F*** Am I wearing!?

Reaching down he felt the black and silver suit, it felt like skin over him.

Weird.

Suddenly a memory flashed through him. Isaiah, him, and the rest of their D&D party playing Delta Green.

This is a Combat Suit! Why the hell am I wearing a combat suit?

Milo heard footsteps approaching and he walked to the door and waited to see if they would come inside or if they would continue to a different room.

Hell, I don't even know if there are other rooms.

Suddenly he sheepishly remembered about Isaiah and Zoë.

Damn it, pull it together, where are they? Did they each get their own room? Are they dead…

The footsteps stopped right outside his door and he heard keys rattling as they unlocked the door.

Milo, you forgot to check the door, what a great D&D player you are!

Two cloaked figures swung open the door, one was as big as Isaiah the other was average-sized. The smaller one spoke, “Milo you’re gonna need to come with us.”

Where had he heard the voice before? “Why should I?” Then the smaller one took off her hood and said “It’s your turn.”

“Zoe! What the fuck! Isaiah?”

Milo pointed at the large cloaked figure holding a torch.

“Yup, it’s me.” Said the large cloaked figure said in Isaiah’s voice as it took off its hood.

Milo looked from Isaiah and back to Zoë.

“So where are we going? What's going on?”

“You’ll see.” That was all she said before walking out, Milo close on her heels and Isaiah behind him.

“Hey why am I in a combat suit?” Milo asked no one in particular. Silence. Milo looked along the walls. Old paintings on the walls with a doorway every once and a while; Zoë turned down a hallway while Isaiah turned the other way.

“Wait! Which way do I go?” Milo hollered after them, “Really guys what’s going on?” The door in front of him swung open revealing a wide-open room. He slowly walked in looking around the whole time, there was a room off to the side and a pedestal in the center with four large doors. The door slammed shut and he heard a voice,

“Milo Phillips, you have been chosen for The Shift. In the room adjacent to this are all the weapons and armor you will need. You will choose a foe from the pedestal and fight. Ten minutes in the armory, to begin with, then go in and out as you please between fights. Go!” Milo freaked out, What the, um, just breath, he took three deep breaths before walking into the room. Swords, shields, bows and arrows, spears, axes, but no guns. He thought hard, no armor it would only slow me down ooh, he reached for a bow on his right which he slung over his shoulder. The quivers were all different but he saw one with tar on the end of the arrows and grabbed it. The swords were all different shapes and sizes, he grabbed a small scimitar and buckled the sheath around his waist “Five minutes.” The voice spoke again from nowhere. Milo saw a spear and picked it up, lightweight and easy to throw. Finally, he grabbed a shield and walked out.

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The pedestal in front of him had a button for each door, one with a vampire's teeth, one with a pentagram, one with a wolf, and then one with a skull. Umm, he clicked the one with the skull and the door started to open, once again the smell hit worse than ever. Bodies surged forward at least twenty in all slow and decayed, one walked forward and snapped at Milo who jumped back, Zombies! He pulled out his scimitar and sliced at its head, his aim was off but was still good. The head flopped to the ground with the body and the gazes of the undead shifted downward. The cold lifeless eyes spotted the body, their eyes rose until Milo was in sight. Without warning the other nineteen charged their speed astonishing for half a second. The legs of the hoard breaking and decaying slowed them to a halt. Milo sprinted off to put some distance between them when he saw a torch, unslinging his bow and nocking an arrow he stuck the end into the fire. He turned his now flaming arrow at the Zombies he pulled, aimed, and released. The arrow soared and hit one square in the chest. To Milo’s amazement it caught on fire before falling, the one behind it caught on fire behind it and fell too. The blaze engulfed ten of the smaller zombies leaving only ten remaining. They rushed him, as fast as zombies could at least. Milo backed up, sword held slightly out from him. As the zombies began reaching him he stepped in and swung diagonally at two zombies. He decapitated one, cutting the second in half. He quickly stepped back to avoid the rest of the zombies, but they didn’t react at all to his movements, they just kept walking toward him. Wait, they're not reacting to what I do! They just follow me. Milo stepped to the side, the zombies turning with him. He smiled to himself. He began methodically cutting the zombies down, running in and out of the crowd of zombies. In a few minutes, the zombies lay around him dead. The voice spoke again “Well done Mr. Philips, now meet the deviants.”

Three more “zombies” stepped out from the zombie enclosure. The first stood hunched over flames dancing around it, but not daring to touch it. The creature’s arms and legs were unnaturally long, its bones pushing against its thin layer of skin, and its jaw was partially detached from the rest of its face. The second was very bloated, its arms and legs bulging out at weird angles. It seemed as if no decay had taken place in the body, matted hair covered its eyes and grotesque tentacles protruded from its abdomen. The tentacles surrounded a gaping hole, which seemed to shift ever so slightly. When it spotted Milo, it turned toward him, seeming to giggle. The third was slightly smaller than an average child, its skin was hanging off of its limbs, and he could see the fire glowing through it lighting up its bones. Milo let an arrow loose, it swam through the air towards the third. The first deviant let out a terrifying groan as it stood up, its bones creaking and popping as it rose. Faster than he expected it moved next to the small deviant, its hand a blur it snatched the arrow from the air. The fat one began to lumber forward, as the little one climbed up the tall one's leg onto its head where it perched and watched him. Milo dropped his bow and grabbed his ax and shield off his back. The fat one walked in front of Milo, its strange tentacles reaching out toward him. The ax swung at its fatty mass, but the tentacles wrapped around his hand ripping the ax from his hand. It then slowly began dragging him in toward the hole in its abdomen. Milo began tugging back to save himself, to no avail. As he was dragged closer to the deviant an eyeball emerged from the hole. It was connected by a pulsing vein that ran back into the deviant. It peered at him as if it was studying him. Milo then realized the deviant hadn’t grabbed his shield arm. He swung it as hard as he could towards the eyeball popping it. It burst apart similarly to a water balloon spray fluid over both of them. The deviant let out a terrifying screech as it fell back into the fire, Its hair quickly caught fire burning the zombie “alive”. The mini-deviant let out a scream and pointed at Milo. The first deviant began loping towards him very quickly.

“Shit shit shit shit” Milo yelled as he stumbled to his feet and ran away toward his ax. The last few feet he dropped and slid across the ground grabbing the ax. He then spun back around toward the deviant and threw the ax. The ax somehow flew true, hitting the deviant's knee cap and shattering it bringing the beast down. Milo stood up and tentatively approached the tall deviant. As he walked over the small one sprang up, scaring him. Once it spotted him it screeched threateningly at him before running away. Milo reached for his bow, drew an arrow, and shot it in the head. The arrowhead sprouted from its forehead covered in bits of brain matter and skull chunks. The tall deviant groaned and moved its arms. Milo let out a terrified scream and then started hitting the deviant with his bow repeatedly until it stopped moving. Milo then fell and puked what was left of his lunch. Okay, Milo, time to get up, you're not done yet. He unsteadily rose to his feet, leaving the bow in the mush leftovers of the deviant’s head.