Sloane wiped the puke on her lips with a towel, she moved from the sidewalk and back to the front of her house.

Looking up, she saw that the sun was a quarter through setting, the time was somewhere around afternoon.

What happens when night comes? Sloane wasn't eager to find out.

She steadied the shield strapped to her arm and made her way across the yard, once again, she stood at the front of her neighbor's house, no one seemed to be inside, or if they were, they were hiding somewhere.

Sloane moreso believed that they were dead, just like the kid she chopped up and used as bait.

But that didn't mean she could become lax.

The humanoid creatures were deadly and more importantly, extremely strong.

They could take doors off their hinges and/or rip apart walls just with their grip, they were also resilient, capable of taking bodily harm to such a degree that they kept fighting even when their lower half had been cut off.

So was it really farfetched for her to assume that they also had regeneration of sorts? She hoped they didn't, but now wasn't the time for assumptions.

She still remembered how the first humanoid she killed ignored the spear she crafted. And the bullet wounds she inflicted on that thing the day before also seemed to have closed up when she encountered it again.

Sloane had been lucky to have shot that thing when she did, because it caused it to back away in fear and treat her with caution, and it only ever really showed bravery when she stabbed it with her makeshift spear.

But why?

It didn't scream then, she still remembers it grinning widely instead of screeching in pain.

When she stabbed it with her box cutter however, that was when things began to change, it writhed from such a small blade cutting its flesh. What made her box cutter different from her spear?

What made her arrows different from her spear? Her revolver?

Sloane didn't know.

She did have an inkling of an idea however; since she got mana channels before she made her bow and arrows, it made her think that it was the reason why her they were more effective than her spear even though she personally crafted both.

Then what about her revolver and her box cutter? The only thing she could think of was that she used her box cutter to slit her wrists in the past. Did that give it special properties?

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Sloane wasn't sure. But she had a feeling sentiments and beliefs weren't so powerless as they were before the apocalypse.

She refocused on the task at hand, stepping into the house with her shield raised and her finger on the trigger of her crossbow, which was prepped up atop her shield.

Sloane checked the living room from the hallway, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

After that, she went further into the house, opening a door led her to a kitchen.

She left the door open for escape and checked every nook and cranny crossbow first, when she confirmed that no monster hid inside, she locked the door to the kitchen and began opening the cup boards.

She found protein bars, flour, salt, and cans of food. Normal kitchen items really.

What was strange is that the fridge had already been opened, everything inside eaten by what she can only assume was the humanoid from the mess it left behind.

The interior walls had turned yellow from splashed yolks while egg shells, blood and pieces of bone and meat littered the floor.

Sloane closed the door, she didn't like the stench the fridge gave off.

She went back to looting.

Once her bag was filled with bars, jerkies, spices, and cans of food, Sloane checked the rest of the house.

The only remaining door in the first floor led to a spacious bathroom that was as empty as the rest of the house.

A quick search revealed that it did have a medicine cabinet though...

Sloane made some room in her bag and collected a bit of the pills, bandages, and other medicine. What she got should be enough to refill her stock.

Going upstairs, Sloane found herself checking three bedrooms, she ignored the stench the open attic was giving off as she scanned the bloodied bedsheets and opened yet oddly untouched closets.

Sloane grabbed a few sneakers she tossed out the window, she'll retrieve them later.

She found a gun, a Glock of sorts? She wasn't sure- it was of no use to her so she left it while taking the magazines. Maybe these bullets would fit in her revolver's chamber? Carrying a gun around again would be good.

Lastly, Sloane checked the attic and what she found made her hairs stood on end.

Her good mood died down the moment she laid witness to the pile of throbbing flesh on the floor and walls, the surface looked like the stomach lining of a gutted beast, their smooth textures reminded Sloane of an open wound.

Red. It was red and clearly alive, bulbs hung from the ceiling or grew from stalks on the floor. What were these?

Sloane stared at the fleshy growth, ready to jump down the stairs and run away at a moment's notice.

Nothing. It didn't react. It simply kept throbbing. Pulsating up and down like it was the chest of a breathing person.

Sloane ran down the attic and left her crossbow at the second floor, she then took out her box cutter and went back up to test something with the fleshy growth.

Slowly, she stepped onto the meaty floor, nothing.

No reaction. She didn't dare step anymore than this, fearing that if she did, the growth would collapse on her and encapsulate her like some kind carnivorous plant.

She didn't want to be digested alive, she's seen videos describing what happens inside of those things, and the smooth surface of the growth reminded her way too much like intestines for her to take the risk.

She stepped out of the fleshy carpet, now for the other test.

Slowly, Sloane bent down, she pressed the tip of her box cutter against the mystery meat, it shuddered and shrunk away from the touch.

Sloane thought twice before going any further, it could clearly move, what if it turns into a tidal wave of flesh that would capture her?

Sloane didn't want to take the risk but at the same time, this was clearly going to grow if left unattended. What happens then?

She decided to harm the fleshy growth.

Sloane raised the box cutter and tore open its surface.

She didn't react even when the thing writhed in agony, popping fleshy bulbs and releasing worm like creatures. Was this its defense mechanism? They didn't seem dangerous, they were venomous maybe?

Sloane stepped backward, she crushed the worms that crawled close enough under her heel and thought that they were easy to kill.

She only started harming the growth again when all the worms were taken care of, by then, the bulbs had all popped, releasing the worms inside of them in a futile effort to drive her away.

Sloane began cutting the flesh in an earnest manner when it no longer sent out more of the worms, she let it bleed out, eventually, results started to show, some parts had gone black and that was when she got the bright idea to poison the fleshy growth.

But how? How would she poison something like this? Regular poison? Bleach?

Sloane decided to test things out, she grabbed a bucket from one of the bathrooms as well as a bottle of bleach and vinegar from the kitchen.

Sloane brought them up the attic and mixed them together, when a pungent stench flared at her nostrils, she left the attic before sealing it.

Sloane picked up her crossbow and went back home. The sky was getting dark so she'd have to check on the results of the poison tomorrow morning.

She emptied her bag and deposited her looted items in the living room, stacking cans and putting snack bars inside tupperwares.

With this, she had an extra week of food, medicine, and even got herself bottles of drinking and sanitary alcohol to use in dressing her wounds.

She cleaned herself using a towel soaked in alcohol before patching up her wounds. Then she headed to bed.