Dark Apocalypse

Episode 11

The head is actually quite similar to a watermelon



Gasping for breath, Adam clutched the steel pipe that had thoroughly shattered the creature's skull, the jagged end embedded deeply.

It was his first time taking a life. No, perhaps that wasn't quite accurate—what he'd just destroyed could hardly be called human anymore. It was a corpse, a lifeless husk animated only to kill and consume.

Of course, this corpse could still move, attack, and even feast on human flesh.

"Killed one zombie. Awarded 1 point..." The mechanical notification resounded in his mind, jolting Adam from his daze.

He had never even slaughtered a chicken, let alone a sentient being. Sure, he'd unintentionally stepped on countless ants, but that was nothing like this. The intensity of what he'd done nearly made him collapse.

"Urgh... ugh..." He couldn't suppress the dry heaves, his hand clamped over his mouth.

The scene was too visceral. Seeing a corpse was manageable, but smashing a zombie's head until the black and white matter spattered everywhere, even onto his own clothes, was gut-wrenching.

He had swung repeatedly, pulverizing its skull to ensure it wouldn't move again. The adrenaline had carried him through, but now that it had faded, a wave of revulsion and terror overwhelmed him.

The first time was always unforgettable, no matter the experience. And while he retched, nothing came up; his stomach was long empty, leaving only bitter bile.

Adam dared not make a sound, fearing to draw more of the undead. He had attacked quietly, and even his heaving was subdued to avoid attracting any attention.

After resting for a couple of minutes, though still feeling queasy, he knew he had to move. The sun was setting; there was no time to waste. The tactic had worked. Zombies died when their brains were destroyed, but he had to remain vigilant to avoid bites or scratches. Even contact with their fluids could be fatal.

He covered his mouth and donned swimming goggles he'd scavenged, protecting his face as best he could. Readying himself, he prepared to lure and ambush the remaining zombies.

Methodically and patiently, he eliminated the four zombies he could see over the next half hour. By then, he had accumulated 4 points.

"Two more to go..." Though still terrified, Adam was beginning to adapt. His heart still raced, but he noticed a strange thrill in the act of destroying the undead—an unsettling, fleeting exhilaration he dismissed as mere imagination.

He cleaned his steel pipe with strips of discarded cloth, then used 3 points to exchange for a multifunctional military combat uniform. Clad in his new gear, he ventured deeper down the winding path.

The way led to the prison's main gate, but the square before it teemed with more zombies. This was the final hurdle to his escape.

Earlier, he had climbed the watchtower to reassess. With four zombies down, he saw only three remaining figures shuffling around. He couldn't be sure if the corpses sprawled on the ground were truly inert, but the reduced numbers calmed him slightly.

From his prior encounters, Adam had learned their movements were sluggish, only marginally faster than a child's pace—roughly half the speed of an average person's walk. Their reactions, however, were disturbingly swift. If one got too close, it would grab with inhuman strength. One misstep could mean doom.

"Three of them..." Adam frowned.

He could handle one zombie alone, but three? He wasn't confident. The best course was to lure them one at a time, but they were clustered in a corner, rendering his earlier strategy useless.

He had to choose: risk rushing past them toward the gate or confront all three in a life-or-death battle.

"No, I can't leave them at my back. Better to take the risk..." Deciding to eliminate the threat first, he reasoned that attempting escape without knowing if the gate was locked would be reckless.

He gripped the steel pipe tighter, his sole weapon and lifeline. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the impending fight. A simple, untrained man about to face three zombies. One wrong move, and his hundred-some pounds of flesh would be torn apart.

"Zombies are nearly blind... their hearing acute... slow-moving but with lightning-fast reflexes... and strength three times that of a human... I must strike decisively!"

Repeating the facts to himself, Adam prepared, loosening his tense muscles. Agility was key; one trembling hand or misstep could spell his end.

The steel pipe was solid. His uniform intact. His body, reasonably nimble. Ready, he crept forward, footsteps light as a whisper, hoping to remain unnoticed until the last possible moment.

Three zombies. The closest one wore a police uniform, the very creature that had devoured the female officer. The other two also wore uniforms, unlike the prison garb of the previous four.

Fortune favored him. All three had their backs to him, standing meters apart, an ideal formation for a stealth attack.

Moving silently, he approached the nearest one and swung the pipe with all his strength, smashing its skull like a burst watermelon. The familiar notification confirmed another point earned, but the noise had alerted the remaining two.

Now, the real fight began. Adrenaline surged through Adam as he raised his bloodied, gore-splattered weapon, unsure whether he was driven by terror or exhilaration...