Bobby's companions were covered in wounds from the zombies' bites, their clothes torn to shreds. Chris sat in the back of the car, letting the zombies gnaw at him. He knew that no matter how strong he was, there was no escaping the horde of nearly a hundred zombies.
"Help, help me!!!!" a companion's desperate scream came from nearby.
Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed Chris's neck, the nails digging into his flesh. It was the same comrade who had fought the zombies alongside Chris. Once trusting, now filled with hatred.
"It's all your fault! If you hadn't insisted on saving that woman, we would have escaped! We wouldn't be dying like this!" the man screamed, his rage palpable.
Chris couldn't argue. All the blame lay on him. If he hadn't insisted on saving the woman, they would have already escaped. How did it come to this? And now, the woman he went through so much to save had turned into a zombie. She was at the car window, mouth agape, driven by the zombie's instinct to tear off a piece of Chris's flesh and chew on it.
"It's my fault. Please forgive me..." Chris's face showed acceptance. He had come to terms with his fate. Even if he turned into a zombie, he no longer feared it.
The next moment, the man who had grabbed Chris's neck turned into a zombie. He opened his mouth wide and bit down hard on Chris's face.
"Crunch!"
A large chunk of flesh was torn from Chris's face by the zombie. His face was now a horrific sight.
"Ahhh!!!"
His nasal bone was exposed, and his face was left with a massive, bloody hole.
The excruciating pain spread through Chris's entire body instantly. In that moment, he felt he understood what death was.
"No, don't kill me, don't kill me..." Chris's face contorted in agony, blood streaming down. The acceptance he once had vanished completely.
"Hissss—!"
The zombies, oblivious to his pleas, continued to gnaw at his body, bite after bite.
"I don't want to die, I don't want to die... Someone save me, please, someone save me!"
Desperation for survival drove Chris to struggle out of the sunroof. As he climbed out, he looked up and saw two people standing on the third-floor balcony of the apartment—one man and one woman.
Chris's eyes met Stel's.
Why do they look so well-off? Why don't they seem hungry? Why are they watching me get torn apart without doing anything?
"Why... why won't you help us?" Chris gasped. "When I went to save that woman, I passed by your room. If you had just helped us, we could have all gotten out safely..."
If Stel had been willing to help, maybe everyone could have escaped.
"You're right. If I had been willing to help, you all might have escaped," Stel said, meeting Chris's gaze. He then revealed his weapons—a customized crossbow, several steel knives, and even a bulletproof vest.
"I do have the weapons that could help you. But why should I lend them to you? Even if you die, it's your fate. It has nothing to do with us."
Stel laughed loudly. By now, Chris's remaining eye had turned red—the zombie transformation had begun.
"You! You can't do this. Don't you have any conscience?"
Chris roared at Stel in anger, almost making Stel laugh. Conscience? How much does it weigh?
"Alright, you talk about conscience, yet you got your companions and the woman you saved killed. People like you deserve to die in the mouths of zombies," Stel sneered. "But don't worry, once you turn into a zombie, I'll find a way to kill you, so you won't have a chance to live even as a zombie."
Chris's face was mostly torn off, revealing the bone and muscle beneath.
"You... you can't do this, you can't..."
"Swish!"
Chris's eyes turned completely red, fully transforming into a zombie. Stel raised his crossbow, aiming at Chris's head.
"Bang!"
A steel pellet shot out, hitting Chris square in the forehead, piercing through his skull. Chris died on the car roof.
"Ah..." Elsie, terrified, hugged her head, sitting on the balcony, trembling uncontrollably.
Stel glanced at her with disdain and let out a cold laugh. "What a useless creature..."
After killing Chris, Stel put away the crossbow, packing it back into his bag.
"Master..." Elsie was petrified, her body cold and rigid. The image of Chris being bitten by zombies left a deep psychological scar in her mind.
As Stel started packing his backpack, Elsie asked, trembling, "Master, if I turn into a zombie, will I look like that too?"
"Depends. You might end up looking even uglier," Stel replied coldly.
"Then... will you kill me like you did him?"
"Yes."
"Master..." Hearing Stel's unwavering response, Elsie's heart sank, filling with deep fear.
Because Stel had never lied and had no reason to lie to her. In his eyes, Elsie was nothing more than a convenient tool. If she turned into a zombie, it meant she had lost her value. At that point, he would abandon her without hesitation.
However, to Elsie, Stel was her only hope for survival in this zombie-infested world.
"Master, please don't abandon me. I will be the most loyal dog under your command. I can fulfill any condition you set for me. I don't fear pain and am easy to sustain. Even if you make me eat on the floor or in the bathroom, I am willing..." Elsie prostrated herself before Stel, adopting a pitiful expression like a dog begging for mercy.
"Master..."
Stel turned and looked at Elsie, then suddenly walked over to her, grabbed her hair, and yanked her head up.
"Are you that afraid of death?"
"Yes, yes..." Elsie nodded frantically.
It was ironic. Just half a month ago, when Stel had first appeared before Elsie, she had wanted nothing more than to kill him. But now, she was like a parasite clinging to him, unable to survive without him.
"If you want to live, show me your worth. A worthless piece of trash is better off being fed to the zombies."
"Woof! Master, please give me time."