“Can you believe that most of the hill used to be submerged in sea? Terra’s landscape must have looked so different millions and millions of years ago!”
Introducing in awe, the old man led the two groups down a flight of steep iron stairs few meters ahead of the markings. Moisture in the dampening air offset the suffocating atmosphere of the cave tunnels behind their backs as they approached a blinding light that increased its radiance with every step they took.
And with every stride Jericho ran, the mellow moonlight filtering through the shyness of trees dwindled as his elongated shadow merged into the darkness of the cave system. Devoid of light, Jericho was blind as a bat. He could only select the passages guided by the uneven surface of the rocky walls, uncertain of where his decisions would take him.
The anarchic footsteps of zombies never ceased. Their sheer number swept through every nook and cranny, demonstrating their ability to leave only carnage behind. Brittler stalagmite rising from the floors were pounded into pieces, crumbling under the weight of hundreds of zombies.
Guiding himself blindly through the twisted sprawl of caves and tunnels, Jericho knew his luck had finally run out after the texture of inward curving grew more and more noticeable. In the final few moments, he has been following a concaving wall that brought him into an circular enclosure where the entrance and exit shared the same meter-wide path. He could sense the sole pathway being crowded by packs of hungry zombies as their unencumbered clamour drew nearer.
There was literally no turning back now. Fighting has become his only option. Steeling himself for his inevitable doom, Jericho was prepared to put up the best fight of his life. All the unethical training; all the demented torture; all the dulling pain. It has come down to this very moment.
‘After all the ups and downs, I guess my life was pretty fucked up.’ Jericho supposed in defeat.
But his heart did not feel resigned.
A broken childhood. A tragic journey. A dramatic apocalypse.
How the fuck is his life so fucked up?
HOW THE FUCK IS HIS LIFE SO DAMN FUCKED UP!
Deliriousness overcame the 13 year old boy. The young assassin finally shed off the facade that masked his aggressive nature— the characteristic developed by Jericho’s severely defected upbringing.
He withdrew two of many knives hidden within the innumerable customizable pockets sewn across his outerwear, wielding one each on both hands.
Jericho’s golden blonde hair, soaked from crippling exhaustion, cascaded messily across his forehead. Through the narrow spacing between the dangling strands of hair, his predatory gaze emitted gleams of hysteria.
THERE IS NO WAY HE WAS GOING OUT MISERABLY!
BZZZZZZZZT—
In a frenzied state, Jericho jammed his weapon into the solid wall, forcefully dragging iron alloy across the carbonate and sulfate rocks surrounding this enclosed and suffocating colosseum as it induced a long, irking screech. Striking hard metal against the dense materials, sparks set the cave ablaze, exposing his position to the endless sea of mindless undead cramming the only passageway leading towards freedom.
His reckless actions were no longer propelled by his consciousness. Jericho’s killing machine of a husk was powered by his tempestuous emotions and the fervent desire to slaughter.
Having given up his position, Jericho could finally perform what he does best — killing.
“LET’S FIND OUT WHO THE REAL MONSTER IS!” Jericho unleashed a beastly roar as a murderous smile cracked open from ear to ear.
The unrelenting undead took on Jericho’s taunts as a challenge, surging into the chamber.
Striking away at the cave walls, loitering flashes of light illuminated the dead-end cave incessantly, embellishing the walls with humanoid shadows. Mesmerizing sparks ricocheted off the cave walls and Jericho’s blade as they banish the waves of murky darkness intermittently.
The strobing humanoid shadows of Jericho and the undead adorned the craggy walls like ancient hand-painted motifs.
With every strobe of light, the flickering projections on the walls changed its patterns like moving images, depicting the intense battle occurring in the background.
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Jericho danced across the cavern elegantly, the blades of his weapons sinking into physical flesh with every swivel. He has blocked all forms of distractions from his senses, concentrating solely on the rhythm of his battle. His outwear was tormented with claw marks and bite marks, but his vulnerable skin remains untouched, sanctioned from any infection.
Jericho doesn’t even know how long he has been engaging with his rhythm. The exertion on himself has robbed his tongue of all moisture.
His lips were chapped, his breathing was heavy and his hysteria has alleviated.
Jericho has already switched onto his last exclusive pair of daggers, every other pair either too dull or too chipped to remain effective against the never-ending army of undead.
It was the consequence of grinding metal against the dense materials embedded into the walls, which he could no longer perform without damaging his only surviving daggers. Without the reassuring sparks produced from striking the walls, his temporary solution has concluded its work.
If he were to be completely submerged in darkness, there was no possible way he could detect zombies sweeping him from below, or in fact, from any other direction.
Fatigue had caught up to him.
His consciousness couldn’t even tell apart the bright hue of pulsating brain matter and the flickering sparks of collision.
“I guess this is the end for me.”
Feeling the vibrations and resistance deriving from his daggers scraping against the craggy surface, as well as the crunching of tough human skulls, Jericho heaved a bitter sigh of repose and liberation.
“Damn…”
Millions of memories flashed across his brain as he recollected his lifetimes as a human. Undeniably, his life on Terra was full of shit, while his childhood on Earth was plentiful. But at least on planet Terra, his tragic life begun with the warmth of friends at the orphanage and would soon end heroically whilst protecting that funny man, Jay, and every other human on Kujil Island.
Just as Jericho was prepared to accept his demise, a beam of light suddenly illuminated the chamber he was trapped in.
“Hang on! Rescue is on the way!” A husky voice that evoked a sense of security echoed into the dead-end cave.
Young Jericho panicked at the life-saving light and the sense of security that enveloped him.
What was this feeling?
Jericho leaped upwards, scarcely retracting his leg before a crawling zombie could sink its teeth into his juicy flesh.
I’ve never felt this before…
Jericho had the clearest view of his enemies under the stable and increasing intensity of lights. With the undead scattered across the complicated cave system, the number of zombies tailing him has decreased significantly, yet it was still virtually impossible for any ordinary human being to handle, let alone walk out unscathed.
“Fend them off for a few more seconds!” Voices grew closer as Jericho heard the satisfying sound of bats and pipes bashing against bones, arousing hope.
“What is this smell?” A figure set foot into the chamber. The meter-wide passageway has been cleared of zombies, unlocking freedom and the circulation of air.
“Holy shit… what the fuck happened here?”
A few more figures entered the chamber, many of them vomiting at the horrifying scene they have never witnessed before.
The enclosed chamber they had set foot on was no bigger than the size of an average classroom, spacious enough to fit a bus load of people. Yet despite the generous amount of area present, every inch of ground was completely covered in deranged corpses and crimson blood of the undead. It was as if the entire cave chamber had been elevated, the base material being flesh and mangled body parts.
Ignoring the pungent metallic taste of blood pervading in the air, the rescuers moved their flashlights away from the corpses, shining into the end of the chamber.
There, they saw a young boy.
His scruffy hair was stained in red, barely revealing streaks of golden.
His upper body was bare, his shirt missing, clearly lost amongst the carnage sprawling across the floor.
His lean body, though patently underdeveloped, was garnished in ghastly scars that foretold many brutal stories. Amongst the many scars terrorizing his body, none of them were fresh. Only a few droplets of blood trickled down his skin, exhibiting lines of stitches still visible over his healed wounds.
His short stature, though seemingly underwhelming, demonstrated the obstinate confidence of a towering giant.
His lonesome figure, though emanating fatigue, stood upright, exuding the domineering presence of a thousand soldiers.
Witnessing the dumbstruck expressions of the people in front of him, Jericho smiled.
As if he had used his last bit of strength to concoct that smile, Jericho leaned against the wall behind him, sliding down slowly as he curled into a fetal position.
“Out of my way!” Shoving the people aside, Jay dashed towards Jericho, checking his pulse.
“Does he need medical attention?”
“No. He’s… he’s fine.” Feeling Jericho’s healthy and normal pulse, Jay waved the offer away, carrying the snoring young boy in his arms like a defenseless infant.
“Did he… did he do all of this?”
“It’s astonishing! There’s roughly about eighty or so monsters in here… maybe even more…”
“Unbelievable…”
Encircling the young boy deep in a slumber, no one was brash enough to speak loudly. Any of the corpses lying on the floor were larger than the little boy, yet this little boy somehow managed to accomplish the impossible.
Recognizable faces that Jay had saved on the plane earlier were amongst the group of rescuers. The remaining unfamiliar faces were from the other unguided group of survivors, also seeking for the docking area to escape Kujil Island.
The new group of survivors, consisting of 10 adults, three children and two elderly, integrated into Jay’s group willingly, acknowledging that Jay was one of the few people who orchestrated the landing of their plane, ultimately saving their lives.
“Do you guys see those deep cuts surrounding the walls?” Someone in the group whispered softly. The whisper belonged to the previous leader of the newly integrated group, a young athlete named Zhehai.
Pointing at Jericho, he asked, carrying hints of respect. “Did he cause that?”
“Most likely. Brainless zombies wouldn’t attack random materials without a good reason.” A young woman answered Zhehai’s obvious question, stepping onto the squishy platform of flesh as if it were rubber, rather than fresh corpses that were still bleeding out.
She was in her mid twenties, dressed in loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, with her luscious hair tied into a high ponytail.
“Fascinating.” Entranced by Jericho’s magnificent work, the young woman pushed up her violet glasses, observing the destruction through her thick lenses. “So these lovely minerals are the production of erosion hundreds of thousands of years… or, or even millions of years ago!”
“But what’s the purpose of these markings?”
Pressing her small nose against the jagged edges like a maniac, the young woman took a gentle sniff.
“Smoke? Something was burning in here. But… but none of the materials here can produce flare?”
The young woman contemplated, so engrossed in her thinking that she didn’t even notice her friends exiting the chamber to hide from the unbearable stench of corpses.
“No. It’s not fire. The smell kinda reminds of the little experiments I did as a kid. What was it again? Was it the concentration of light?”
“Lisa! It’s time to get out! Zombies are still wandering in this unpredictable environment!” A suppressed voice called out to her in a hurry, informing the young woman that it was time to leave. “We should be heading back to the city soon enough!”
“Fine, I understand! As a geologists, I was just a little curious!” Answering back, Lisa jumped off the corpses she stood on and ran towards the rest of Jay’s group.
Leaving the chamber with her unfinished thoughts, one supernatural question remained unanswered that day.
Where did the sparks and lights originate from?