Caine moved methodically through the shadowed streets of Owasso, the hollow city echoing faintly with the rhythmic dirge of shambling undead trailing behind him. Each step was a mournful cadence marking the decline of the living world.
Ahead, his destination loomed, the ruins of the 98 Apartments. Once vibrant with life, laughter, and the ordinary routines of humanity, it now stood in desolation. Its gates, twisted and broken, bore the crusted remnants of dried, blackened blood from a long-forgotten era.
Caine halted at the entrance. Within the ruin staggered familiar figures, what little remained of them. His former neighbors, reduced to mindless husks. For a fleeting instant, a shadow of the man he once was stirred within him, only to be smothered by the cold weight of instinct.
The orange-eyed undead flanking him, his grim honor guard, sensed his resolve even before he moved. In eerie synchrony, they surged forward, tearing into the shuffling corpses with mechanical precision.
Caine joined the fray.
His claws extended, lengthening and hardening into a stone-black texture. With a single leap, he landed on an attacker, gripping its neck with both hands. The creature writhed violently, but Caine's grip was unyielding. A sharp twist, a brittle, wet crack, and the head tore free. He landed in a crouch, his boot driving into the lifeless body as it crumpled to the ground with a dull thud.
Beside him, the orange-eyed zombie once known as Sergeant Granger transformed his arm into a blade, driving it cleanly through another undead's throat. Black blood sprayed as Granger twisted sharply, severing the head and raising it aloft as a grim trophy.
Amid the carnage, Caine stood silent, his expression unreadable, a figure of quiet dominance presiding over the death he commanded.
Beyond the shattered gates lay the decaying remnants of a long-dead world. Abandoned cars were half-submerged in debris, their windows streaked with dried blood. Bleached, brittle skeletons slumped lifelessly in their seats. The air was thick with the sharp metallic tang of decay, laced with an older, darker presence that whispered of unspeakable hunger.
Caine moved forward, each step stirring clouds of ash and dust. Ahead stood the building that had once been his home, its upper floors leaning precariously against a neighboring ruin.
As he neared the stairwell, flashes of memory surfaced, laughter, arguments, the scent of coffee, late-night gaming sessions. Faces, voices, warmth. And then… nothing. The memories dissolved like ash caught in a cold wind, leaving only a hollow void.
Then it struck.
A stench so vile it clawed at his throat, rot mingled with a sickly sweetness that compelled him forward against his will. The scent led him toward the complex's swimming pool.
When he arrived, his teal eyes widened, and his body froze mid-step.
The once-clear water had turned into a thick, dark red sludge. Limbs floated aimlessly on the surface, pale and bloated. At the center, a grotesque mound of corpses rose, humans, animals, even birds and vermin, forming a macabre tower of death. The stench was overpowering, the atmosphere oppressive, almost alive in its malevolence.
For several heartbeats, Caine stood paralyzed.
Gradually, control returned to his limbs. He continued forward, his steps faltering on the blood-slicked stairs. Each tread was coated in gore and viscera, forcing him to steady himself against the wall.
On the second floor, a shrieking undead emerged from a doorway, lurching toward Caine. Unfazed, he reacted in an instant, his hand snapping upward in a blur. Razor-sharp claws slashed across the creature's face, leaving a deep gash. It crumpled to the floor, convulsing in a pool of its own dark ichor.
Without delay, Caine knelt and absorbed the corpse. The lifeless body disintegrated into black smoke, tendrils of energy weaving into his flesh.
[Biomass Assimilated]
Strength (STR): 28 → 29
Dexterity (DEX): 28 → 29
Constitution (CON): 27 → 28
"Hm…" he murmured, watching the faint glow fade from his hands. "Regular undead only boost physical stats. So, what kind of creature enhances the mind?"
His thoughts turned to the bone zombie, the one that had laid traps and commanded others. Intelligent, calculating. Something more akin to what he was becoming.
"I'll figure it out later," he muttered, heading to the third floor.
The sight that greeted him was grim. His apartment door was shattered, the frame splintered and smeared with dried, blackened blood. Inside, the faint glow of a monitor illuminated a familiar gaming chair. Seated in it was Kevin, or rather, what remained of him.
Caine froze.
Kevin's body convulsed violently, his mouth opening in a blood-soaked, guttural scream. The flickering monitor cast pale light across the room, reflecting in the lifeless, vacant eyes of his former friend, now reduced to a ravenous, mindless corpse.
Kevin's body convulsed violently, a guttural snarl ripping from his throat as the flickering monitor cast a pale, stuttering light across his disfigured face.
Caine remained motionless, staring for several moments with an unreadable expression, his teal eyes reflecting the dim glow of the screen. Slowly, he turned away.
The rasping sound of Kevin's breath followed him as he entered his own room. It was mostly intact, scattered belongings, overturned furniture, a cracked mirror, silent remnants of the life he once lived. His gaze lingered briefly on the unmade bed and the photos scattered across the desk before practicality took over.
He knelt down, sifting through the chaos to gather what little he could still use: a dark shirt bearing the faded, illegible logo of a heavy metal band; a black and grey hoodie with frayed sleeves; and a pair of worn black pants.
Piece by piece, he dressed, his movements mechanical, not out of vanity, but instinct. Black absorbed the night. Black concealed.
Zipping the hoodie halfway, he flexed his hands, the faint sheen of dried blood catching in the dim light. He sought not comfort, but camouflage.
Outside, Kevin's hoarse snarls weakened, fading into a low, wet rasp. Caine's eyes flicked briefly toward the sound. "I can't leave him like this," he thought, approaching his former roommate from behind.
Caine gripped Kevin's skull and applied pressure until the sickening crunch of bone collapsing echoed. With an expression of guilt, he began to assimilate the corpse.
[Biomass Assimilated]
Strength (STR): 29 → 30
Dexterity (DEX): 29 → 30
Constitution (CON): 28 → 29
As subtle changes coursed through his body, Caine felt a growing curiosity about the extent of his newfound strength.
CRASH!
The silence was shattered.
A deep, guttural bang reverberated from the second bedroom door, wood splintering under a surge of brute force. The hinges shrieked as the frame burst outward, fragments scattering across the hallway like jagged shrapnel.
Caine's gaze shot up, his instincts firing a split second before the figure emerged.
"Stetson…" he exhaled, the name escaping in disbelief.
His second roommate loomed in the doorway, or what was left of him. Stetson had always been an imposing figure, towering, broad-shouldered, a living fortress of muscle even before the world fell apart. But now… he was grotesque.
His flesh was a grotesque patchwork of ruin. Sections of skin had transformed into jagged, white bone plates that protruded from his arms, chest, and jawline, creating a crude, calcified armor. One eye was entirely gone, the socket hollow and oozing black ichor. The remaining eye smoldered with a dull orange glow, flickering like an ember buried beneath ash.
"Stetson…" Caine repeated, his voice quieter now, the name foreign and hollow, belonging to someone who no longer existed.
The creature that had once been his friend let out a feral snarl, a low, guttural sound that reverberated through the hallway.
Caine instinctively stepped back, his claws flexing. "Damn it."
The infected behemoth charged.
The collision was immense. Stetson's massive shoulder slammed into Caine, hurling him backward through the wall and into the living room. Plaster dust rained from above as Caine scrambled to his feet, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
He barely had a moment to steady himself before Stetson crashed through the gaping hole, his sheer bulk splintering the floorboards beneath him.
Bone scraped against concrete as Stetson lunged forward again, his massive form displaying an unnerving speed for something so heavy. His fist, encased in a sheath of bony growths, smashed through a coffee table, sending shards of wood scattering across the room.
Caine ducked low, rolling just in time to avoid the second strike that cratered the wall where his head had been moments before. The apartment groaned under the strain of their battle, the air thick with the dry scent of crumbling drywall and decay.
"Still strong as ever," Caine muttered, sliding into a low stance, his claws catching the dim light and glinting ominously.
Stetson roared again, this time deeper, resonating with an unnatural, almost otherworldly vibration. The bone plating on his arms shifted and reconfigured, locking together like jagged scales. Then, with a sudden thrust, his arm shot forward, not in a punch, but as a piercing attack.
Caine twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the blade-like bone that grazed his ribs, leaving a thin trail of black blood. The pain flared briefly before fading as his body began its rapid process of self-repair.
He retaliated with precision, landing a swift slash across Stetson's side. Sparks erupted upon impact, but the bone armor remained unbroken.
"Of course," Caine hissed, propelling himself backward with a quick flip just as Stetson brought his arm down in a hammering motion. The floor shattered under the force of the blow.
Stetson straightened, his single glowing eye fixed intently on Caine. The sound that rumbled from his throat was a distorted amalgamation of a growl and a laugh, a haunting echo of the man he once was, now twisted by the undead infection.
Caine's gaze steeled. "You're still in there, aren't you? Then… I'll make it quick."
He lunged forward.
The two clashed in the center of the room with a resounding impact. Claws raked, bone blades swung, and the room echoed with the sounds of tearing flesh and guttural growls. Caine fought like a predator, swift, calculating, slicing at the weak points where bone plating met flesh, searching for an opening.
A brutal backhand from Stetson struck him across the jaw, hurling him into the wall. He crashed to the floor, dazed, his vision blurring.
The massive undead closed the distance, each step groaning against the strained floorboards. Caine's head lifted sharply, teal eyes blazing with newfound determination.
Stetson's partially bone-armored form lunged once more at Caine, who ducked into a spin, narrowly avoiding the grasp of the charging behemoth. Using the momentum from his spin, Caine delivered a powerful uppercut to Stetson's abdomen, shattering the bone armor and forcing blood to seep through the cracks under the impact's intensity.
The force of the punch sent Stetson crashing backward into Kevin's computer station, triggering a cascade of electrical sparks that sprayed outward. Writhing in pain, Stetson thrashed wildly amidst the dazzling but chaotic light display.
As Caine approached his fallen roommate, his fallen friend, his arm began to emit a silver-black substance. The liquid swiftly formed into a gauntlet, encasing his hand in a shell designed as much for offense as it was for defense.
Reaching toward Stetson's zombified face, partially shielded by thick bone plating, Caine used the sharp, pointed edges of his fingers to press into his roommate's eyes. With precision, he pierced through to the brain, abruptly halting Stetson's thrashing as blood streamed from his nostrils.
SQUELCH!
When Caine withdrew his fingers, the sickening suction sound was accompanied by a ribbon of blood trailing after. Stetson's body slumped to the ground, lifeless.
Caine stood motionless over Stetson's lifeless body, the acrid stench of charred flesh and shattered bone saturating the air. Smoke spiraled upward from the wreckage of a broken monitor, twisting like a vanishing specter and casting an eerie glow over the remnants of what had once been a home.
For a long moment, he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the grotesque remains of the friend he had lost.
"You always were hard to put down," Caine murmured, his voice low and edged with somber respect.
He knelt beside the corpse, resting a hand on the fractured remnants of Stetson's chest. The skin beneath his palm was cold and rigid, partially transformed into jagged, calcified plates. As his hand settled, faint tendrils of black mist began to seep from his own flesh, weaving through Stetson's remains like ink spreading through water.
The nanites responded.
A faint vibration hummed through the air as the assimilation commenced. Stetson's body convulsed violently, bones splintering and flesh dissolving into swirling streams of gray and black vapor. The process dragged on, slower than usual, resistant, as if the calcified plating itself were fighting against the transformation.
But resistance was futile.
Within moments, the vapor coalesced, drawn into Caine's form as though sucked into a void. His eyes flickered between shades of teal and black, his muscles tightening as volatile, unfamiliar energy surged through him. It was heavier than before, potent yet incomplete.
A translucent interface flickered to life across his vision:
[Biomass Assimilated]
Subject: Immature Bone-Type Variant
Assimilation efficiency: 52%
Strength (STR): 28 → 31
Dexterity (DEX): 28 → 31
Constitution (CON): 27 → 30
Intelligence (INT): 21 → 23
Wisdom (WIS): 22 → 24
Charisma (CHA): 21 → 23
Caine's breath caught as the surge of power coursed through him. This time, it wasn't as overwhelming as before, but it felt cleaner, more refined. His senses sharpened dramatically, he could discern vibrations in the floor, the faint hum of decaying power lines outside, and even the dull, persistent heartbeat of his undead thralls still waiting below.
He flexed his hands, watching veins of silver-black fluid retreat beneath his skin. "Half as strong," he murmured, "but denser… steadier."
A creeping realization tightened his chest with unease. His body wasn't just adapting; it was evolving, learning to absorb and refine biomass with growing efficiency. Each assimilation drew him further from humanity, reshaping him into something else entirely.
His gaze drifted to what remained of Stetson, a faint shadow etched into the floor where the body had lain. A flicker of guilt crossed his face, a fleeting reminder of the man who had once shared beers and late-night debates with him in this very apartment.
Caine exhaled slowly and rose to his feet. "Rest easy, big man," he said softly. "I'll carry it from here."
The ruined apartment fell silent again, save for the faint moaning of the wind through shattered windows.
With resolve etched into his exhausted features, Caine turned toward the door. As he stepped into the night, his undead honor guard stirred from their vigil, silent, orange-eyed sentinels awaiting their master's command.
Without a word, they fell into formation, following him into the shadowed streets of Owasso.
Moonlight glinted off Caine's teal eyes as he advanced, the rhythmic cadence of their footsteps resonating through the empty city, a somber march of death beneath a decaying sky.
Yet deep within, ever since he had laid eyes on that towering mound of corpses, a heavy and foreboding sensation had taken root, a feeling so persistent and ominous that no distraction could dispel it, no matter how hard he tried.