Chereads / Apocalypse respawn / Chapter 5 - Magic!

Chapter 5 - Magic!

Rargnes woke up, his mouth reeking of alcohol. He glanced around at the mostly still-sleeping figures and asked the person standing nearby, "They haven't returned?"

"No."

"And did they leave a message?"

"I can't pick up anything anymore. Nobody can.," the person replied, shaking their head as they checked their phone. "Nothing."

The group gradually woke up. The taste of alcohol in his mouth disgusted him, and almost instinctively, he avoided speaking or making eye contact, as if others could smell or see the alcohol in his gaze.

An hour passed, then another. With each passing hour, the group grew more impatient with the absence of those who had gone exploring. The supplies wouldn't last much longer.

By the third day, hunger gnawed at everyone's stomachs.

"This can't go on like this!" exclaimed a man. "We need to venture out or we'll starve to death!"

People either looked away or criticized his arguments, knowing them to be true. However, after a few hours of heated discussion with others, he managed to convince a few people. It was somewhat like his alcohol. Trying to forget. Except, they were doing it for something useful, he thought. When someone criticized him, they regained control. Or perhaps it was just the strength of the group that the goblin had talked about.

Rargnes volunteered and became one of the nine who set out for exploration armed with small knives and bags. He slung his bag over his shoulder and remained silent at the departure. He saw the eyes of people who didn't understand or who wanted to use him as a tool, he thought. That's why people didn't like their loss. Their useful toys disappeared then.

They removed the blockade and opened the doors. The street ahead was deserted. They approached cautiously, crouching and brushing against the shops, ensuring a secure rear and avoiding detection. Each had their direction to watch. Rargnes looked to the right. Nothing. Not a human, not a goblin.

The city seemed exactly the same as they had known it, but without anyone. No sound seemed to exist, only their footsteps.

They continued on to the supermarket. The one who had proposed the expedition went ahead and inspected the place.

"And it's clear!" he called out to them with a signal. They hurried to join him.

"So?"

"There's nobody and plenty of food. Let's quickly grab the bags and get out."

Inside, they stayed close, went for the first food they saw, put them in the bags, and filled them up. In a matter of seconds, the bags were full. They closed them, slung them back on their backs, and left.

Until the bar, they saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Hey!" they exclaimed upon arriving at the bar's windows, once again barricaded. "It's us, open up!"

They opened with caution upon seeing their bags filled with food, then rushed to inquire about the news. They explained the situation to them.

"And the group? Haven't you seen them?"

"Nobody."

A gunshot was heard in the distance. Everyone turned around, then exchanged incredulous looks before frantically barricading the place again.

Days passed, and nobody came to disturb them. The networks were down, the water still running. It was very boring, a stressful boredom and a great stench. Suddenly, loud noises were heard at the door level, as if someone was hitting it with a large trunk. An even louder sound followed. The door gave way.

Everyone had gathered in the kitchens when they heard the door being smashed, flying towards them before returning to its normal position.

"Don't come near!" someone shouted, to which they heard a strange dialect in response, an unknown language.

The stress mounted, someone whispered to disarm, Rargnes tightly gripped his knife between his fingers, praying inwardly, his heart pounding.

'Please,' he thought, 'I don't want to die.'

A kick fractured the door in the middle, and a few others made the top and bottom of the door fly. Men armed with medieval weapons and armor entered the room. Someone attacked them, his knife clashing against their armor, causing no harm.

The man seemed to laugh and struck him violently, followed by a dozen other men, beating them until they lost consciousness.