New Skin
1467 Words
[Velmorra Federation – Gravepoint City]
Pain hit him first.
It felt like a spear of white-hot fire stabbing into his gut, twisting with the cruel sharpness of molten glass. Elias’s spine bent; every nerve flared simultaneously. He wanted to curl over, throw up everything inside, scream till his throat gave out.
Then…
‘Breathe.’
Deep, sharp, automatic—like surfacing after drowning in pitch-black water. His lungs filled with air that tasted like dust and burnt incense.
His eyes snapped open.
Above him, the sky wasn’t the ash-choked nightmare of the Red Zone. No choking smoke or flickering orange fires. Just a huge, impossible dome of golden light… a sunset bleeding across high wispy clouds, casting molten amber over the ruins.
The air was clean, sharp. No smell of burning metal, no rotting flesh, no cordite—just a faint mineral scent, and the ghost of long-dead flowers.
“Where the f**k am I?”
He tried to sit up but stopped immediately.
His body…
Wasn’t his.
The weight felt off. The power was different. Muscles shifted under his skin like thick steel cables coiled tight around bone, every fibre humming with some hidden strength. His hands looked bigger, rough-knuckled, steady as stone... slowly rising into view. Veins ran jagged and visible beneath pale skin that almost glinted like metal.
He staggered to his feet. The world wobbled, then steadied with a sharp, deadly clarity.
The place was wrecked.
Broken pews lay scattered like shattered ribs over cracked marble, streaked with dried black ichor. Candelabras, once gold, now green with verdigris, had toppled; wax hung down like stalactites. A crucifix the size of a man hung crooked on the far wall, Christ’s face eroded into a screaming skull.
A smashed mirror clung to the opposite wall, glass cracked into dagger shards that caught the dying light in splinters of blood red.
Elias lurched toward it, legs crunching over shattered stained glass that sparkled like frozen flames.
He caught his reflection—and the world stopped.
‘Holy fuck.’
The face staring back was a monster hiding behind human skin.
He was tall—at least six-foot-five, maybe taller. His broad shoulders cut off by the frame. His chest felt solid as granite, rising and falling with each breath. Arms thick with muscle, veins standing out like battle scars beneath pale, almost metallic skin that shimmered strangely in the light.
His hand touched his square, brutal jaw.
The kind of face that could either kiss you breathless or break your jaw—depending on its mood. A long, jagged scar slashed down the left side of his throat, disappearing under the torn collar of a black ripped combat shirt stretched tight over his body.
His hair—black as sin—fell in messy, sweat-damped waves around his temples, framing his burning eyes glowing deep, unholy red. He was clearly not human. Not anymore.
And holy mother of f**k…
He shifted and felt something thick and heavy pressing between his legs, pushing against his ripped combat pants like a loaded weapon.
“Jesus,” Elias muttered, his voice deeper now—a rumble vibrating in his chest. He grabbed himself through the fabric, fingers barely stretching around it. The size was obscene—like a fever dream or a dirty magazine hidden under a barracks mattress.
“Well… f**k. This body’s built for trouble,” he thought, lips pulling back into a wolfish grin, revealing teeth sharper than any human’s.
As the smirk formed, a clear chime echoed inside his head.
—
[System Online.]
[Host: Elias Kael Uploaded Successfully.]
[Current Vessel: Vark Draven — Sovereign-Class Zombie.]
[Initiating Status Screen...]
Words appeared across his vision in glowing crimson letters, floating like the HUD from some pre-Collapse VR rig.
Name: Elias Kael (Vark Draven)
Race: Sovereign-Class Zombie
Level: 1
Tier: Reaver (Unique Variant) ‘Evolvable’
Health: 1500/1500
Strength: 300
Agility: 250
Intelligence: 220
Endurance: 350
Libido: 500
Corruption: 0%
Morality Sync: -2%
Abilities:
- Devour Core (Active)
- Regeneration (Passive)
- Sovereign’s Presence (Passive)
Elias blinked, stunned. The numbers throbbed like heartbeats.
A system? A vessel? Vark Draven?
He clenched his fists; knuckles cracked like gunshots. Power thrummed raw through his limbs, begging to be unleashed.
The name Vark Draven sparked something ugly and deep in his mind—a flicker of memory that wasn’t his: blood-slick thrones, screaming brides, cities burning beneath a red moon.
The name tasted like danger. Like conquest.
“What the f**k did I wake up into…?” he muttered.
Another notification blinked into view, colder this time.
[Special Trait Detected: Berserk Potential (Locked).]
[Warning: Berserk Mode may trigger upon high Corruption or Morality Desync.]
[Recommendation: Stabilise Corruption to prevent loss of control.]
Elias narrowed his eyes at the text. He wasn’t stupid.
The world ended because of monsters like what he’d just become.
But even so… even trapped in a dead warlord’s body… half-zombie, half-something else…
He was still Elias.
And he wasn’t about to let this world swallow him whole.
Gritting his teeth, he stepped back from the mirror. The marble cracked under his feet. He scanned the ruined sanctuary.
First step: survive.
Second step: figure out what this body could do.
Third step… find others.
And maybe… save whoever was left to save.
But first…
Another chime, softer and almost amused.
[Warning: Vessel carries lingering instincts and urges. High Libido detected.]
[Advised: Seek regular release to avoid Berserk status.]
Elias coughed out a laugh—short, sharp, disbelieving.
“Regular release, huh? f*****g hell, even the system wants me to f**k now.”
He clenched his hands.
This body was a weapon. A machine built for war. For survival. And judging by the heat pooling low in his gut… for other very sinful things.
And it was miles away from where he’d died.
He stepped through a crumbling arch into the open air. The ruins of the sanctuary stretched across a hillside.
This was definitely not the Red Zone. Not anywhere near Haven Base.
He was alone.
No military. No friends. No Lira.
Just him… and a whole lot of unknown.
“This is fucked.”
A shuffling noise made him snap his head around.
He wasn’t alone after all.
Three figures shuffled through the overgrown cloister toward him.
Zombies. But not the mindless, rotted husks he remembered.
These wore armour patched together from old SWAT gear—cracked ceramic plates, duct-taped kneepads, riot helmets with shattered visors. Their eyes glowed a sickly yellow instead of dead white. Their movements were jerky, twitchy—half instinct, half muscle memory.
Evolved.
Ghoulspawn.
Tier-1. Faintly pulsing dull grey cores beneath their sternums. Not strong…
But hungry.
Elias’s lips curled into a nasty, predatory grin. His fingers curled into fists.
The system chimed again.
—
[New Objective: Prove Dominance.]
[Optional: Devour Zombie Cores to Increase Power.]
—
Elias cracked his knuckles.
“Time to see what this new d**k-swinging body can really do.”
He charged.
Fast.
Faster than any human should be able to move.
The first zombie barely lifted its rusted machete when Elias’s hands closed around its skull—fingers digging in like steel vices. He crushed it.
Bone snapped with a wet pop.
Black blood sprayed out, steaming where it hit the ground.
The second swung a rusty piece of rebar. Elias ducked just in time, feeling air whistle over his head, then kicked hard, sweeping the creature’s legs out from under it. Before it hit, his boot slammed down—CRUNCH—driving its chest into broken concrete. Ribs shattered.
The third, smarter, tried to run.
Elias grinned wider, baring teeth.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
He closed the distance in a blur, one hand snaking out to grab it by the back of the neck—fingers sinking into cold, rubbery flesh. With a savage twist, he tore its head off.
Spinal cord dangled like a wet rope.
Standing over the twitching corpses, blood steaming on cracked ground, his chest heaving… his heart—if it was still a heart—pounded like war drums.
The system chimed again, satisfied.
[Core Fragments Detected.]
[Would you like to Devour? Y/N]
“Hell yes,” Elias growled.
He knelt, pressing his palm flat against the closest corpse's chest.
A black, swirling mist rose—oily, writhing, alive. It sank into his skin like ice water shot into his veins. He felt it crawl up his arm, along his spine, settling behind his eyes with a click.
[Core Devoured.]
[Strength +10]
[Agility +5]
[Endurance +5]
[Corruption +1%]
“f**k yeah,” he muttered, flexing fingers as the new strength pulsed through him like a second heartbeat.
He did it two more times.
Each core made the hunger stronger. Each one pulled him a little further from man and closer
- Writer
