I can't believe how quickly things escalated in the hospital. I had hoped to discuss with Sheen and Ryo what was happening, but now I find myself hiding from numerous zombies. The reality of the situation has taken a turn beyond anything I could have anticipated.
As a gamer, I should know better than to venture into crowded places during a zombie outbreak. It's a basic survival strategy. Yet, here I am, in the heart of the hospital, realizing that I've failed to follow the very rules I've often abided by in virtual worlds.
"I just want to leave, but I can't abandon those two. I know they can make it, but just how am I gonna find them in here?" I muttered, my thoughts reflecting the internal struggle of wanting to escape the chaos yet feeling a responsibility to ensure the safety of my friends.
If I remember correctly, Sheen is always assigned to the ER, so heading there might lead me to find him. But what about Ryo? I have a feeling he's already inside the ER as well. The decision to make my way to the Emergency Room becomes more certain as I consider the likelihood of finding both Sheen and Ryo in that crucial area of the hospital.
"But first, I must pass the zombies here in the lobby. I don't have any weapon I can use, so I need to be sneaky with it or else I'm dead," I said, my nerves and fear palpable in my words. The daunting task of navigating the zombie-infested lobby without a weapon intensified the sense of urgency and danger.
"Okay, I can do this. If I ever turn into a zombie and you guys see me, just know that I'm still as loyal as your friend," I added, injecting a touch of dark humor into the tense situation.
I quickly assessed the distance between me and the emergency room entrance, realizing it was not that far. The proximity fueled a surge of determination, pushing me to navigate the lobby and reach the safety of the ER as swiftly and discreetly as possible.
Taking a deep breath, I carefully studied the movements of the zombies in the lobby, identifying gaps and potential hiding spots. With a plan forming in my mind, I moved stealthily, hugging the shadows, and inching closer to the emergency room entrance. Every step was calculated to avoid attracting the attention of the lurking undead in the vicinity.
As I approached the emergency room entrance, the tension in the air became palpable. The moans and shuffles of the nearby zombies created an unsettling soundtrack to my stealthy journey. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead as I neared the entrance, my heart pounding in my chest. With each step, the gravity of the situation intensified, and the need to reach the safety of the ER became more pressing.
Just a few more steps, and I'd be at the emergency room entrance. The adrenaline coursing through my veins heightened my awareness, every creak and shuffle of the undead echoing in the lobby seemed magnified. I carefully peeked around a corner, ensuring the coast was clear, and then made a final dash to the entrance.
I thought I could finally breathe a sigh of relief upon entering the ER, but my hopes were dashed. There were still zombies lurking around, albeit not as numerous as in the lobby. The hallway was a gruesome scene, filled with blood and littered with lifeless bodies, painting a horrifying picture of the chaos that had unfolded within the supposedly safe confines of the hospital.
"Damn it, of course, the people brought here are from the traffic accident. Here in the ER is where it all started happening right now," I muttered to myself, the grim reality sinking in as I navigated the hallway.
"I know I like playing survival games, especially zombie ones, but gaming and reality are two different things," I said, reflecting on the vast distinction between the virtual challenges I enjoyed in games and the harsh, unpredictable nature of the current reality I was facing.
I walked through the hallway, and my gaze fell upon the lifeless body of a policeman. The uniform and insignia marked him as one of the law enforcement officers who had likely responded to the initial accident.
"I should check his body; he might have something I can use," I reasoned, recognizing the necessity of scavenging for resources in this dire situation. Approaching the fallen policeman cautiously, I searched for anything that could aid me in the perilous journey through the infested hospital.
As I checked his clothes, my hands stumbled upon a baton and a handgun. A mix of relief and trepidation washed over me, knowing that these weapons could potentially be crucial for my survival in the hazardous environment of the hospital.
"But I can't use a gun in here; it could attract the zombies. I might use it sooner or later," I mused, acknowledging the risks associated with the firearm. The delicate balance between the potential benefits of having a weapon and the dangers it posed in this confined space weighed heavily on my decision-making.
Inspecting the gun, I discovered that it held 10 bullets. It seemed the police officer had opted not to use his firearm, possibly relying on brute force to subdue the threats.
"Okay, Ryo and Sheen, where are you? Your daddy's here," I joked to myself, a feeble attempt at lightening the heavy atmosphere as I continued my search through the eerily silent and blood-stained corridors of the hospital.
***
"Good thing I have a golf club right now, but why the heck are there 4 zombies lurking around in front of me?" I exclaimed to myself, a mix of relief and concern as I observed the undead obstacles that now stood in my path.
"It's stupid enough to fight four of them without a plan," I reasoned with myself, acknowledging the need for a strategic approach to dealing with the looming threat.
Spotting a water bottle on the floor, I seized the opportunity. I reached for it, planning to use it as a distraction. My strategy formed quickly: throw the bottle to divert their attention, and while they were distracted, I would swiftly move in with the golf club to incapacitate them by aiming for their heads. It was a risky move, but in a situation like this, improvisation was key.
I took a deep breath, my grip on the golf club firm. With the water bottle in hand, I steadied myself for the impending encounter. The zombies, their hollow eyes fixated on me, lurched forward with unsettling determination.
I hurled the water bottle in a calculated trajectory, creating a distraction that momentarily drew the attention of two zombies. As they stumbled towards the source of the noise, I swiftly moved in, aiming the golf club at the first zombie's head. The impact was visceral, the sound of the club connecting with its skull echoing through the eerily quiet hallway.
However, the other zombie had caught wind of my presence. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I pivoted to face the second threat. The golf club arced through the air, connecting with a sickening thud as it struck the zombie's temple, sending it sprawling to the ground.
Two were down, but the remaining pair closed in, their moans reverberating in the confined space. I sidestepped a clumsy lunge, narrowly avoiding the grasping hands of one zombie, and countered with a forceful swing of the golf club. The satisfying crunch of bone meeting metal resonated as the club connected with the zombie's jaw.
"I'm not sick in the head, but aside from swinging for a ball in a baseball bat, it's quite refreshing to crack the head of a zombie," I muttered to myself, the macabre humor a coping mechanism in the face of the grim circumstances.
Breathing heavily, I surveyed the aftermath of the skirmish. The hallway now lay quiet, the only sounds being my labored breaths.
"Okay, zombies, here I come. I'm confident now; I can bust your heads," Ryo declared with newfound determination, positioning the golf club on his shoulder.
***
While surveying the surroundings, I could only find tools for surgery, disposable aprons, and gloves. While unconventional, I reasoned that it was better than having no protection at all. Grabbing a few disposable aprons, I devised a makeshift armor, wrapping them around my arms and legs. The gloves were donned next, serving as an additional layer of defense against potential bites. It was a desperate attempt to minimize the risk of infection in this dire situation.
"Are you going out, Sheen? It's not just one or two zombies; there are a lot of them," someone cautioned, their tone reflecting the gravity of the perilous situation outside the relative safety of the surgery room.
"Yeah, I bet my friends are looking for me. I don't want to wait here and do nothing," I said with conviction.
I observed the group, a mix of tearful faces and those resigned to their fate, seemingly prepared to await their demise in the perceived safety of the surgery room. Taking a deep breath, I addressed them one last time, a flicker of hope in my eyes.
"Are you guys not coming with me?" I asked the urgency in my voice echoing the critical decision that each of them faced in that dire moment.
As I looked at them, it was evident they couldn't fathom the idea of stepping outside amidst the chaos. Regardless, I stood firm, and resolute in my decision.
With a sigh, I acknowledged their reluctance, understanding the paralyzing fear that gripped their hearts. The weight of the situation bore down on me as I realized the isolation that awaited me beyond the confines of the surgery room.
"Alright, I'll go alone. Stay safe, and if help comes, don't hesitate to leave this room," I advised, offering a final glance at the group. Their eyes held a mix of gratitude and fear, a silent acknowledgment of the harsh reality they were collectively enduring.
As I stepped out of the surgery room, the door creaked closed behind me, leaving the group within its relative safety. The hallway stretched ahead, and I could see zombies lurking around, their movements erratic and unsettling. Thankfully, the immediate vicinity outside the room appeared clear of the undead, providing a momentary reprieve from the immediate threat.
"I guess our plan to play a survival game got real," I muttered to myself, a bitter irony lacing the acknowledgment of the stark shift from the initially lighthearted plans for a gaming session with friends.