Apocalypse: King of Zombies Chapter 4 The Apocalypse Game Begins
Previously on Apocalypse: King of Zombies...
Ethan made his way back to his residence.
A massive skyscraper loomed high, with his apartment situated on the 42nd floor, positioned right near the summit.
The living space gleamed with pristine cleanliness, almost astonishing in its perfection. All belongings were placed with utmost care, while the simple style imparted a fresh, orderly vibe to the entire area.
Sturdy iron bars fortified the windows, sealed tight and impossible to breach.
Such measures shielded him from the airborne mutated creatures emerging in the apocalypse, poised to strike without notice.
Solar panels were already set up on the rooftop. Despite Ethan's impending transformation into a zombie, power remained a vital necessity in his daily existence.
Although his human bodily capabilities would vanish, his intellect would stay preserved.
For entertainment, he could continue viewing television, engaging in video games, and browsing his mobile device. Via these gadgets, he might monitor external happenings and track the ongoing progression of the apocalyptic events.
All preparations were complete.
The timer for the world's conclusion had started ticking.
...
The extended darkness of night eventually faded, as dawn's rays gradually illuminated the earth.
Ethan recalled precisely that the apocalypse was set to commence at 8:00 AM. He checked the wall clock. Its pointers indicated 7:59.
Just a single minute remained.
He approached the window and peered at the roadway underneath.
Beyond, the scene appeared utterly ordinary—vehicles crowded the avenues, and individuals strolled about, conversing and chuckling, oblivious to any impending disaster.
The clock's second hand advanced steadily, inching toward the minute hand. An entirely new age stood on the verge of unfolding.
8:00 AM.
In an instant, the previously vibrant heavens were shrouded in a sinister crimson light. The sun shifted to a deep scarlet, as though the whole planet had been drenched in a foreboding tint.
Those on the street lifted their gazes, bewilderment etched across their features.
"Why's the sun turning red?"
"Is this some kind of astronomical event?"
"Hurry, take a picture and post it on Facebook!"
At that precise moment, a holographic system panel materialized before each person, transforming the real world into what felt like a digital game.
[Ding! Please choose: Join the Humans or the Zombies?]
The majority stood stunned, gazing vacantly at the selections hovering ahead, uncertain how to proceed.
Following brief uncertainty, an individual tentatively extended a hand and picked the "Human" choice.
[The apocalypse game will officially start in 30 seconds. Please make your choice quickly. If there aren't enough players in the zombie faction, the system will randomly assign participants.]
A chilling, robotic tone resounded in all ears, resembling an inexorable march toward destruction.
Terror gripped the crowd. Individuals rushed to select "Human," grasping desperately at the final glimmer of security available.
[5]
[4]
[3]
[2]
[1]
...
The timer reached zero.
Mayhem exploded outward. Folks scrambled to finalize their selections.
Yet right afterward, numerous individuals fainted abruptly, as though felled by some unseen power, plunging immediately into oblivion.
Along the thoroughfares, automobiles swerved wildly, colliding violently with each other.
"Bang! Crash!"
Glass panes exploded, shards scattering in every direction, while the roads devolved into pandemonium. Dread proliferated rapidly, with faces twisting in escalating frenzy.
"Honey! What's wrong? Wake up!"
Beside the pavement, a female urgently rattled the fellow who had toppled next to her. However, upon the man's eyelids fluttering open, his visage contorted into a hideous form. Abruptly, he pounced, clamping jaws around her throat.
"Ahhh—!!"
Her piercing wail rent the atmosphere as crimson fluid rapidly drenched her attire. Her frame spasmed fiercely, gaze inverting as vitality ebbed from her in a flash.
Identical horrors unfolded across every avenue.
"Monsters! There are monsters!"
"They're zombies! Run!"
"Mom, please wake up!"
Yells, sobs, and guttural howls reverberated across the metropolis, hurling it into absolute turmoil.
Ethan remained at the window when darkness engulfed him. Consciousness slipped away.
Upon regaining awareness, his humanity had vanished.
"Ugh—"
His lips parted, yet only a guttural, hoarse rumble emerged. The power of speech had utterly deserted him.
"Just as I thought…"
Ethan reflected inwardly. A profound alteration had reshaped his form, stripping away numerous abilities.
Even the 10-inch DICK he once cherished with pride now lay inert.
"Looks like I'll need to evolve before I can get that back," he pondered.
He pivoted toward the living room mirror. The image staring back differed little, save for his complexion, now ashen like parchment, stripped of hue, lending a ghastly, unwell aura.
In his zombie state, his appendages felt rigid, motions sluggish, and pain sensation nearly absent.
Currently, his pace lagged behind that of a typical person.
Drawing from classifications in his past existence, he ranked as a mere D-class zombie— a novice.
Nevertheless, certain perceptions had intensified. Auditory and olfactory faculties sharpened remarkably, claws toughened into razor-sharp, metallic edges, and fangs gained the might to rend meat effortlessly.
Ethan grasped an apple off the surface and nibbled tentatively.
The prior delightful tang and crunch had dulled to nothing, akin to gnawing bland, arid tallow.
"Disgusting…" he grumbled softly, brow creasing faintly.
Even more troubling, the fruit failed to quell his appetite. Rather, it amplified the void within. His gut twisted, yearning for something raw and instinctual—flesh.
Ethan lumbered gradually to the eating area. Though his gait was inflexible, he retained an air of refined poise.
He lifted a spotless white cloth and fastened it neatly about his collar, mimicking the setup for an upscale feast.
From the spatial storage ring, he drew forth a chunk of fresh, uncooked beef and set it upon a dish.
Next, he took hold of cutlery, slicing the beef into tidy portions with exacting care, replicating the finesse of a gourmet venue.
Every cut was measured and intentional, as if he remained the sophisticated diner in opulence.
With the fork, he impaled a morsel of uncooked beef and raised it leisurely to his lips.
Fangs shredded the flesh without effort, and vital fluid erupted across his tongue, bearing an unprecedented nectar-like flavor.
"This… this is what I need," Ethan contemplated. The flavor of uncooked meat proved surprisingly divine, eclipsing all prepared dishes he had sampled previously.
Beyond, turmoil still raged. Avenues brimmed with shrieks, wails, and zombie snarls.
Yet Ethan ignored the din entirely.
His attention fixed on the repast ahead, relishing every morsel of uncooked beef.
With ongoing consumption, vitality accumulated within, and his physique subtly evolved.
The greater his intake, the nimbler his extremities grew, power mounting progressively.
The metal utensils gripped in his palms, formerly solid and resistant, seemed brittle now. A mere squeeze sufficed to warp them.
Still, he persisted. Serving after serving vanished into him, his belly an endless void impossible to sate.
Moments elapsed unnoticed, and the outer lanes hushed progressively. Human laments diminished, supplanted by zombie murmurs and snaps.
The urban center had succumbed. Scant few endured, tenaciously holding onto survival.
Ethan, though, remained immersed in his realm, devoted wholly to the savory feast at hand.
Fifteen dishes of beef passed his lips before a sense of partial satiety arrived.
Yet his hunger lingered, demanding further.
Zombie advancement proved staggeringly swift, particularly amid abundant meat supplies.
Ethan sensed the shift—his frame mended swiftly through feeding. Motions flowed smoother, vigor surpassing normal human limits.
He laid aside the utensils, loosened the cloth from his throat, and glided with fluid elegance. Post such hearty intake, rigidity had fled, appendages outperforming his pre-zombie suppleness.
"Looks like I've leveled up…" Ethan reflected.
He gauged his status as a C-class zombie now. Though distant from the zenith, he dwarfed his initial D-class mutation.
Rising, he strolled to the pane, surveying the vista beneath.
Roads lay in ruins, strewn with fractured shards, gore marks, and strewn appendages. Undead wandered the paths, hunting fresh quarry.
Certain undead clustered modestly, hunkering over cadavers, squabbling over scraps like feral beasts, snarling while guarding their spoils.
From time to time, he spotted holdouts leaping from lofty structures, fleeing the doomsday horror.
However, the throng below swiftly consumed their forms, erasing all traces—skeletons included.
The firmament lingered under that uncanny crimson veil, solar orb bloodied, projecting a barren gleam upon the wasteland remnants.
Ethan observed the spectacle impassively.
This turmoil held no sway over him. He reclined casually on the ledge, savoring the wind while lifting a goblet of crimson vintage, twirling its contents softly.
The rich scarlet elixir circled within the vessel, echoing the vermilion heavens exterior.
He sampled a draught, then seized a pale cloth to daintily cleanse his lip edges.
Regardless of worldly upheavals, sophistication endured eternally.