Apocalypse: King of Zombies

With a casual flick of his wrist, Ethan tossed out a few slabs of raw steak, still streaked with blood.

The zombie from earlier froze, his expression shifting to one of stunned disbelief.

"Wait… is that really steak?"

They were all starving, their bloodlust barely contained. A few zombies immediately lunged forward, tearing into the meat and devouring it in seconds.

But of course, that tiny bit of flesh wasn't nearly enough to satisfy them.

The same zombie turned to Ethan with a sycophantic grin. "Boss, from now on, I'm all yours. Whatever you say goes."

"What's your name?" Ethan asked.

The zombie blinked, scratching his head awkwardly. "I… I don't have one."

"Oh." Ethan gave him a quick once-over, then said offhandedly, "Alright, from now on, you're Slick."

"Yes! Yes! Slick! That's a great name! Boss, you're a genius—so cultured, so creative! Just one word from you and bam! Instant class! That name's got style, it's got flair—"

Slick's mouth ran like a machine gun, laying it on thick with the flattery.

Jerky rolled his eyes. "Ugh, I liked you better when you were all tough and rebellious."

And just like that, Ethan kept recruiting more zombies to help him search for the stone tablets. Word spread fast—one told ten, ten told a hundred—and before long, the whole city of Albuquerque was buzzing with it.

Soon, he had a horde of over a hundred zombies under his command.

They split into small groups, wandering the streets, scouring every corner for any sign of the tablets.

Unfortunately, they kept coming up empty. It was becoming clear: the tablets weren't in Albuquerque.

Then, just as things were settling into a rhythm—

The city trembled again.

Dark figures began appearing on the outskirts, slipping back into the urban sprawl. They moved with eerie grace, fast and agile, their pitch-black skin twisted into snarling, feral expressions.

The Black-Skin Zombies were back.

"Boss! It's the Black-Skin Zombies… they're back!" Jerky's face went pale with fear.

"Yeah," Ethan nodded calmly.

Judging by the timing, Mia and the others must've shaken them off, causing the Black-Skins to lose their trail and return to Albuquerque.

But since it was clear the tablets weren't here, Ethan figured it was time to regroup with Mia.

"Let's go. We'll check out the desert."

"Uh… okay." Jerky nodded quickly.

Sure, the desert was crawling with mutated monsters, but if Ethan said go, they went. No questions asked.

Still, in the back of their minds, they couldn't help but think—those Black-Skin Zombies were no joke.

Even the boss didn't want to mess with them lightly…

The zombie horde drifted out of the city, spilling into the endless desert. They scanned the horizon—nothing but sand in every direction.

Wind howled in the distance, kicking up clouds of dust.

Ethan stood still, quietly tuning into the world around him. Beneath the sand, he could sense life—mutated bugs, scorpions, snakes. All of them lurking, waiting for the right moment to strike.

This place was crawling with danger. Definitely not friendly territory.

"Let's see what kind of new flavors we've got out here…"

…

Meanwhile, deep in the pitch-black underground ruins, four people huddled against a wall.

Chris's stomach growled loudly, his face pale and drawn with hunger. He looked miserable, his brows furrowed in pain.

Sean stared at him.

"Uncle Chris… I gotta poop."

"Then go poop! Why are you telling me?" Chris snapped, clearly at the end of his rope.

"Oh…" Sean thought for a second. "Maybe I'll hold it a little longer."

"…" Chris was speechless. He was starting to think the kid was messing with him on purpose.

Brandon stared into the darkness ahead, thinking aloud. "Uncle Chris, do you think there's anything edible in these ruins?"

"How the hell would I know?"

"Well, maybe we should go look?" Brandon suggested.

Chris shook his head immediately. "Forget it. I'm so hungry my stomach's touching my spine. If we run into something dangerous, we're screwed."

"If you wait until you've got zero energy left, it'll be even worse. Might as well use what little strength we've got to try and find food. We've gotta take our fate into our own hands," Brandon said, trying to sound inspiring.

"Nope. I don't trust myself—I trust my teammates. If you wanna go, be my guest," Chris said flatly.

"Fine…" Brandon muttered, pouting.

But before they could argue more, a faint rustling echoed from deep within the corridor—like something was crawling along the walls in the dark.

"What was that noise? You guys hear that?" Chris snapped to attention, eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, I heard it," Brandon said, staring into the pitch-black corridor. "Something's out there… and it's getting closer."

Chris sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit… must've caught our scent."

"Guess sitting here starving isn't exactly the safest option either," he muttered.

All four of them stared toward the source of the sound, tension thick in the air. Whatever it was, it was definitely moving closer.

But it was so damn dark. Even with the enhanced vision of an Awakener, it was hard to make anything out.

Then—suddenly—the crawling stopped.

"It's not moving anymore," Chris said, voice low and uneasy. "You think it got scared off by my badass aura or something? Brandon… did you see what it was?"

Brandon shook his head. "Nope. Too dark."

Chris frowned, clearly unsettled. "Sean, you—ah, never mind."

One look at Sean's "wise and thoughtful" expression, and Chris gave up on that line of questioning.

Whatever was out there, it wasn't some mindless beast. It was watching them, waiting. Calculating.

"Maybe it's just waiting for me to starve to death so it can snack on my corpse," Chris muttered under his breath.

The tension was unbearable. Something was out there, and it was smart.

Brandon squinted into the darkness, his brow furrowed. "Uncle Chris… I think I saw something hanging from the ceiling."

Chris swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Alright… fine." He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

With a flick of his hand, flames sparked to life in his palm, casting a warm glow that pushed back the shadows.

He hurled the fireball down the corridor. It shot forward like a meteor, lighting up the walls as it flew.

"ROOOAAARR—!"

A guttural shriek tore through the silence. Whatever was hiding in the dark recoiled violently, clearly terrified of the fire. It scrambled backward, vanishing again as the flames flickered out.

Brandon's eyes went wide, his face pale. "I… I think I saw a human face."

"What? No way," Chris said, shaken. He hadn't gotten a good look—just a blur, a shadow darting away.

Oliver chimed in, voice low. "I saw it too. It had a human head."

Chris felt a chill crawl up his spine. That thing had been hanging upside down from the ceiling… and it had a human face?

Yeah. That was nightmare fuel.

Goosebumps prickled his skin. This underground ruin was way more dangerous than they'd thought.

He glanced over at Sean, who still looked completely unfazed.

"Sean, seriously—don't you have any thoughts about this?" Chris asked, mostly just to break the tension.

"Yeah," Sean nodded solemnly. "I told you. I still really need to poop."

…