Eliel slumped into the worn couch, the greatsword leaning against his leg like a sleeping beast. The room smelled of blood and old paint. His pulse had slowed, but his mind raced faster than ever.
"Alright, Eliel," he said to himself, "step one: don't die. Step two: find Patoa before he does something dumb… which, knowing him, he already has."
He rubbed his face and exhaled. The sound of distant chaos filtered in through the broken door—car alarms, screams, something that sounded disturbingly like a lion's roar echoing from the streets.
He peeked through the peephole gap. No movement yet, but the air itself felt wrong—like the world had forgotten how to breathe properly.
"Can't stay here. Gotta move."
He glanced toward the counter where his cracked phone rested. No signal, of course. The only thing glowing was the reflection of his new greatsword under the dim ceiling bulb.
Patoa lived just two blocks down, in a dorm room so messy it deserved its own ecosystem. The man was loud, funny, and half-mad—but loyal to a fault. The kind of friend you wanted in a zombie apocalypse.
Eliel grinned faintly. "If anyone's still alive, it's definitely that stubborn Jamaican."
He pushed himself up, stretching his shoulders. The greatsword felt heavy but oddly comfortable now, like it belonged there. He opened the status screen again.
[ Level: 2 ]
[ Strength: 12 ]
[ Agility: 10 ]
[ Endurance: 11 ]
[ Willpower: 10 ]
[ Intelligence: 9 ]
[ Available Stats: 20 ]
He hesitated. "Alright, I'm not dumb enough to dump all these into strength. Let's go with… balance."
He divided them quickly—three in strength, two in agility, two in endurance.
[ Updated. ]
[ Strength: 15 ]
[ Agility: 13 ]
[ Endurance: 13 ]
[ Willpower: 12 ]
[ Available Stats: 10 ]
A mild warmth spread through his limbs. His muscles tensed, and the exhaustion from before faded slightly.
"Nice. I feel like I could carry that idiot Patoa on my back if I have to. Let me save these points dunno when it'll come in handy."
He tightened the belt on his trousers, grabbed a small backpack, and stuffed it with essentials, water bottle, flashlight, and, for some reason, two packets of ramen.
The apartment was silent now. He crept to the doorway and peeked into the hallway. The flickering lights made everything look like a haunted film set.
"Alright," Eliel whispered, "time to move."
The first few steps out were quiet. He held the sword low, ready to swing. The walls were smeared with handprints—some fresh, some dried to a dark brown. He passed a half-open door on his left; something groaned inside.
Nope. Not today.
He tiptoed past it, keeping his breathing shallow.
By the time he reached the stairwell, his nerves were on fire. The ground floor was two flights below. He could already smell the metallic stench drifting up.
Just as he took the first step down, his phone buzzed faintly in his pocket.
He froze.
The screen flickered no signal, but a message notification. From Patoa.
"Wait, what?!" He opened it immediately.
> "Yo Eliel, mi deh upstairs fi yuh. Dnt open di door widout mi voice, mi fren. Place mad crazy! P."
Eliel blinked. "He's… upstairs?"
That was odd. Patoa's room was two blocks away, not two floors. Maybe the system had warped people randomly? Or maybe—
A loud crash above interrupted his thoughts. Something or someone was running. Heavy footsteps echoed, mixed with a rhythmic metallic clang.
"Don't tell me…"
The sound grew louder, closer. Then came a voice that made Eliel exhale in relief.
"Eh Eliel, yuh still alive, mi bredren? Mi nearly chop dung two a dem creature pon di way yah!"
The accent was unmistakable.
Eliel turned toward the stairs just as a tall, dark-skinned man bounded down, dreadlocks tied back, wielding what looked like a machete fused with an iron pipe. His shirt was half-torn, but his grin was intact.
"Patoa!"
The man laughed breathlessly. "Mi seh it long time, yuh too stubborn fi dead, enuh! Look pon yuh wid dat sword like some anime boss!"
Eliel chuckled despite himself. "I could say the same about you. What's with the weapon? Did you raid a hardware store?"
Patoa waved the machete proudly. "Nah man, mi jus' pick it up from one madman weh try bite mi. Mi tell him try again after mi lick him inna him head."
They both laughed, the sound a rare piece of normalcy amid the madness.
"So what's the plan?" Patoa asked, leaning against the rail.
Eliel rubbed his chin. "We can't stay here. Too many of those things outside. My car's in the lot, but it's probably surrounded. We need to find somewhere safer to regroup. Maybe the old convenience store near campus—it's small and has metal shutters."
Patoa nodded thoughtfully. "Yea, mi know di one. But mi seh, di road full a people weh tun monster. We haffi move smart."
"Agreed."
They both fell silent for a moment, listening. The building creaked. Somewhere below, something scraped against the floor, followed by a low, guttural growl.
Patoa frowned. "Mi nuh like dat sound, Eliel."
"Neither do I."
They exchanged a quick nod—unspoken agreement forged through years of friendship.
Eliel stepped forward, checking the stairwell. Nothing yet. He looked back. "We go down together. Quietly. If one of those things gets close, aim for the head."
Patoa raised an eyebrow. "Mi head small, but mi aim perfect."
Eliel rolled his eyes. "That's not what I….never mind."
The two descended the first flight, weapons ready. Every sound, the creak of metal, the distant moans outside,felt amplified.
Halfway down, Patoa whispered, "Mi still cyaa believe dis real, yuh know. Yesterday mi worry 'bout rent, now mi fight zombie."
Eliel smirked. "Guess the world's way of saying rent's cancelled."
"Mi fine wid dat," Patoa chuckled softly.
They reached the landing. Eliel peeked over the edge—three zombies wandering below, one gnawing on what used to be a shoe.
"Three of them," Eliel whispered.
Patoa gripped his machete tighter. "Three? Easy math. Mi tek two, yuh tek one."
Eliel blinked. "You just volunteered for more."
"Mi always like di bigger share," Patoa grinned.
Before Eliel could argue, Patoa leapt over the railing with a wild yell that echoed through the stairwell. The zombies turned instantly. His machete came down on the first one's skull with a crunch, then he kicked the second backward.
Eliel cursed. "Damn it, Patoa!" He rushed down after him, greatsword raised.
The third zombie lunged at Patoa's blind side—but Eliel's blade met it mid-air, cleaving it in half with a shockwave that rattled the walls.
[ +50 EXP ]
Patoa looked at him, eyes wide. "Yo… yuh see dat? Yuh just split di man like bread!"
Eliel exhaled, adrenaline surging. "Remind me to thank the system later."
The laughter that followed was short-lived. Because from the far end of the corridor, a new sound rose, low, heavy breathing. Then a wet, thunderous roar that made the lights flicker.
Patoa's smile faded. "Mi… mi nuh tink dat one normal, Eliel."
Eliel raised his sword, eyes narrowing toward the darkness. Something massive was moving there, its silhouette scraping the ceiling.
The air grew cold.
Eliel's grip tightened. "No sudden moves," he whispered.
But the creature stepped into the light—its jaw split open unnaturally wide, eyes burning with a sickly red glow.
Patoa's voice trembled, just a little. "Mi fren… dat nuh look like any zombie mi ever see."
Eliel took a slow step forward, the greatsword glowing faintly in his hands.
"Then let's hope it bleeds like one," he said
just before the monster roared and charged