***

"Get your head out of the f**king clouds, soldier, and pass me those goddamn grenades!" General Zach's voice cut through the chaos of gunfire and explosions as he yelled to a soldier besides him.

The soldier was not moving, his pupils had shrunk, and he was paralyzed with fear but strangely he heard the commanding voice even through the booming sound of the firing guns, and the blasting sounds of the bombs that were being set off.

Buildings had collapsed and the streets were covered with debris, an explosion had just come off causing part of a building to fall and as the dust cleared off, the body of a young man in uniform was seen, laying under the fallen debris and he was unconscious.

Zach glanced at the fallen soldier but he didn't have the time to grieve as he reloaded another round of bullets into his gun.

Under the dust of the debris, the body of the fallen soldier moved.

There was a loud ringing going off in his ear, with darkness enveloping his vision, Flint could feel a nauseous feeling at the pit of his stomach, his head felt awful. Someone was yelling his name but he couldn't recognize who.

Why did it sound so chaotic in this place, what the f**k was going on?

"Flint! Flint! Run!"

Flint couldn't quite picture what was happening to him at the moment, but the annoying voice kept telling him to run.

The question now was, where was he meant to run to? Why was he running?

Soon enough, his vision cleared up, and his senses became a bit clearer as he was regaining his consciousness, there was a mix of the smell of dust, and decay but what made him come to his senses immediately was the distinct and metallic scent in the air, assaulting his senses, particularly his nose—It was the unmistakable odour of blood.

Flint sharply opened his eyes, his head throbbed with a slight ache and as he reached up to touch his head, a searing pain caused him to recoil, he brought his hand down and saw it was covered in blood, he had been wounded.

"What the heck is happening?" Flint mentally screamed, his surrounding was filled with smoke and debris, he was still struggling to regain his senses, when he heard someone shouting at him to run, the words sounded muffled at first, and then it became clearer as the young boy's hearing sharpened.

"F**k! GET YOUR ASS UP KID, AND RUN!" Flint could still feel soreness in his body, as he stood up, his muscles were fighting against every movement.

He looked forward and he saw people signalling to him but he couldn't understand what they were saying, the sounds of gunshots became louder by the minute, he looked at them and saw that they were firing in his direction but they weren't shooting at him, so what were they firing the bullets at?

He turned to look behind him and immediately a horrible sight came into his view.

He stumbled back in fear and his heart rate came up, he was face to face with a creature he never thought could exist, one that he had seen only in the movies and the games he played—A zombie.

He was face to face with a freaking Zombie, an actual Zombie. A

s a gamer, he would have been excited to see an actual zombie but seeing one so close could only mean one thing—Imminent Death!

Now there was no other emotion he could feel except fear.

Flint immediately felt his heart in his throat as his gaze locked on to the creature in front of him, and everything—The sounds of gunshots, the yelling, the explosions going off around him, they all seemed to disappear and fade into the background, the air seemed to grow heavy as he struggled to breathe.

A guttural growl emanated from the creature's throat as its face twisted into a grimacing snarl, its lips or what looked like they were lips peeled back to reveal crooked, sharp teeth stained with dried up blood.

Its flesh, putrid, was attached loosely to its skeletal frame, the torn, tattered, and dirty dress it had on was a sign of its once previous humanity.

Its eyes, empty of life, were filled with a sickly greenish hue highlighting the horror in its appearance. Its decaying scent gave off the feeling of death.

Strings of saliva, and blood dripped slowly from its mouth showing the intensity of its craving for human flesh as it locked eyes with the being in front of it.

It stretched its hands forward as if to grab the shivering boy in front of him, the limbs twisted, and broken looked like they were previously removed and, re-attached back in a strange way.

Flint could feel himself hyperventilating, his every instinct telling him to flee and, find a way to get away from such danger but he couldn't move an inch, it was like his muscles were paralyzed.

Then a bullet flew above his head, instantly piercing the skull of the zombie in front of him causing its head to explode and the brain matter spilled all over the ground.

As Flint looked at the creature collapsing into a heap of bones and meat, he took a moment to understand the reality of where he had found himself in, but that was not the worst part, the other zombies were instantly attracted by the sound of the gun shot and they immediately ran, crawled, and limped to that direction.

"Flint, get the f**k out of there now!"

Commander Zach yelled at the boy, he wondered why the young man wasn't quick on his feet anymore, he was one of his best soldiers too, had the blast affected him way too much?

Flint didn't wait for a second warning before he ran for his life.

Why was he in a totally different place? Why was he faced with such danger? He had remembered playing a game and finally completing a boss round in the game before going to bed, he was meant to collect the reward tomorrow, but now he was waking up to this?

It had to be a dream but he knew that what he felt from the contact with that zombie was too damn real.

Why was he here? What had happened?

Hearing the scent of a free lunch moving farther away from them, the zombies ran after him with all their might.

They snarled at each other competing for who would get the first bite.

Flint ran for his life; emotions began to pile up in his head, but strangely he felt excited.

He also didn't want this to happen, why couldn't he just a die a normal death, being eaten by zombies was the worst kind of death.

It was a slow torture and, becoming one of them was equally horrifying; he couldn't stand the thought of feasting on human flesh or enduring days without bathing

Why was he being punished like this? Was it because of that old lady he refused to help cross the street?

F**k! it was definitely her, or was it because he yelled at his mother, but still his mother would never wish such cruel thing for him, she was way too nice.

It had to be the old woman but how??

"Run faster, Kid." The commander yelled at him while firing tons of bullet at the zombies chasing him.

Flint didn't have to be told twice as he bolted through the streets that were filled with debris heading straight for the safety behind the barricade in front of him.

He knew it was the only way for his survival.

He had no time to think about how he got to where-ever he was because he had to think about to ensure the safety of his life, no matter what he had to survive.

His legs ached as he ran and the zombies were getting closer, the soldiers behind the barricade were doing everything to make sure that they lessened the weight of the zombie horde after Flint's life.

The sound of gunshots was deafening and it made his eardrums ache, he was getting closer to the barricade, just as the zombies were getting closer to him.

With the sound of each heartbeat, he could feel desperation flow through him increasing the amount of fear in his body.

His hand suddenly brushed something familiar at the side of his jacket, the feeling of a hard, and rough case, drawing his attention and causing him to look down—A f**king grenade, a lifesaver, it was dangling, attached to a hook in the side pocket of his trousers.

As the adrenaline coursed through his veins, without hesitation, he instinctively reached for the grenade tucked away in his side pocket, his fingers closing around its cold metal surface.

In one swift motion, Flint yanked the pin free, feeling the tension release as the mechanism disengaged.

Without a moment's hesitation, he summoned every ounce of strength within him and hurled the explosive projectile with all his might.

Flint knew this was his only chance of escape, he counted as he ran forward and towards the barricade.

1—2—3

Time seemed to slow down as the grenade hit the ground focusing on that single area.

The screeching, snarling, and sounds of gunshots seemed to fade into the background as deafening sound erupted along with explosion.

The explosion ripped through the air, a thunderous shockwave scattering debris and shrouding the scene in billowing smoke and chaos.

The horde of zombies, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught, was thrown into disarray.

Flint kept on running but the shockwave pushed through his very being sending him forward and over the barricade into the safety of his comrades.

The reverberating force tore through the horde, sending zombies flying into different directions.

The ones that were sent over the barricade were immediately met with a bombardment of bullets and reduced to minced meat, while those caught in the heart of the blast were torn into pieces of limbs and scattered bodies.

The blast had left the horde in shock, and the scary number of zombies had been shattered. Limbs flew and bodies crumbled, their relentless advance abruptly halted.

As the aftermath of the blast settled, Flint cautiously pulled his aching body behind the barricade, and shuffled closer to the soldiers who were reloading their bullets.

Then a screen appeared in his head

[Congratulation Flint Reynolds.]

[You have eliminated a hundred Zombies]

[You have awakened the System]

"What the actual…."