Darkness enveloped Liam, a suffocating void where the echoes of his last moments flickered like dying stars. He remembered the flames, the screams, and the weight of despair that finally pulled him under. He had been driving home from work, the night sky a swirl of deep blue, when everything went wrong. A car swerved into his lane, a blaring horn followed by the sickening crunch of metal. In an instant, everything faded to black, and then…nothing.
Abruptly, a voice pierced the quiet, cold and mechanical, resonating through his mind.
"Subject L-005: Awakening in Progress."
Liam blinked against the sudden brightness flooding his vision, instinctively reaching for his glasses. His fingers brushed against the empty space where they should have rested on his face, and a wave of confusion washed over him. To his surprise, he could see more clearly than he expected.
He sat up, panic igniting in his chest as he surveyed his surroundings. He was sprawled on the ground of a dilapidated warehouse. Sunlight streamed through the cracked, dusty windows, casting long shadows across the uneven floor. Rusted beams loomed overhead like skeletal fingers, and the air was thick with the scent of mildew mingling with something far more sinister—death. In the dim light, he caught sight of remnants of forgotten machinery, their once bright colors now muted by layers of grime, creating an unsettling contrast against the decay. Each breath filled his lungs with a heavy, oppressive atmosphere, amplifying the sense of dread that gripped him.
"Who—what the hell are you?" he croaked, rubbing his eyes as if it might somehow bring clarity.
'You have been selected to join the world of Horror Realities. Your previous life has come to an end. You are now a participant in the Multiverse Survival Program.'
Liam's heart raced as he tried to process the information. "Multiverse? Survival Program? What are you talking about?" He could almost feel the remnants of his last life slipping away, like sand through his fingers. Just moments ago, he had been a regular guy, stuck in a rut, living paycheck to paycheck, and now he was…where exactly?
'Your goal is to survive within designated horror-themed worlds. Each world presents unique challenges and threats. You will be transported upon completion of each scenario..'
"Are you serious?" Liam echoed, his voice barely a whisper. The absurdity of the situation was almost comical, but the tension in his chest kept him from laughing. "I believe I just died! I can't handle this again!"
'Affirmative. You must avoid death at all costs. Your survival is paramount. '
Liam took a deep breath, fighting to rein in the rising panic. "Okay, okay, let's backtrack a moment," he said, his tone laced with skepticism. "You say I died, and now I'm stuck in a—what was it again? A horror reality?" He let out a short, humorless laugh, his gaze narrowing as he looked around the dark, sterile room. "Is this supposed to be comforting? Because if so, you're doing a bang-up job."
He rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "I mean, come on. I was finally coming to terms with being dead," he muttered, voice thick with sarcasm. "And now I'm… what? Some contestant in a sick version of 'Survivor' where the prize is apparently my sanity?" He squinted into the dim shadows, as if trying to catch a glimpse of the hidden cameras he was now convinced were somewhere around him.
"Nice try, government," he scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. "This is just some elaborate psychological experiment, isn't it? A new method of interrogation, or population control? What did I do to end up on your list, anyway?"
The voice, cold and clinical, remained silent, offering no rebuttal to his accusation. That silence only fueled his frustration. "I know how this works—implant a few nightmares, disorient your subject until they break. But I'm not breaking, got it? I know none of this is real."
He took a few steps back, eyes darting around the room. Every shadow seemed to shift under his scrutiny, as if harboring secrets. "Let me guess," he continued with a sneer. "You're about to send some lab-coat lackey in here, tell me this is 'for the good of society' or whatever, and that I just need to comply to make it stop, right?"
The voice finally responded, a chilling monotone.
'This is not a government simulation. You are no longer alive, and your reality is no longer bound by the world you knew.'
Liam's fists clenched, his heart pounding as paranoia settled in. "You can keep saying that," he snarled, "but I'm not buying it. You'll need to try harder than a creepy voice and a couple of cheap tricks."
As if undeterred, the voice persisted, its tone unsettlingly mechanical and hollow, without even a trace of humanity. Liam stiffened, his eyes darting around the dark room, yet no matter where he looked, there was no source, no speaker—nothing to explain where the voice was coming from. It felt like it was right beside his ear, or worse, lodged deep within his own head.
'You will navigate various horror realities,' the voice intoned, emotionless and unwavering, 'each with its own set of rules and dangers.'
Liam swallowed, feeling a chill snake down his spine. His heart hammered as he scanned the empty room again, half expecting to find a figure looming over him, or hidden cameras blinking in the shadows. But there was only the voice, echoing as though it were crawling through his mind, its cold monotone amplifying his growing sense of dread.
'Your first world will commence shortly,'it continued, entirely unbothered by his rising panic. 'Please state your name.'
Liam hesitated, clutching his head as if he could somehow shake the voice out. "Wh…who are you? Where are you?" His own voice sounded weak, frail against the blank indifference of the mechanical tone.
The silence that followed felt suffocating, leaving him more unnerved than he'd been seconds before.
Swallowing hard, Liam finally gave in. "L-Liam," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "My name is Liam."
For a moment, there was nothing but a chilling silence, stretching on until he wondered if he'd imagined the whole encounter. But then the voice returned, colder and more hollow than before, echoing in his skull with that same mechanical detachment.
'Name registered: Liam,' it intoned, each word slow and unnervingly precise. 'Your first world will begin imminently. Good luck, Liam.'
The final word lingered, like a ghostly taunt, mocking the notion that luck would be of any use. Shadows began to close in around him, folding like curtains across the room. And as the last traces of light dimmed, the voice faded, leaving him alone with only his pounding heartbeat and the terror of whatever lay ahead.
As the darkness deepened around him, the voice returned, colder yet unbothered. 'Your first world will be in a setting centered around a… zombie apocalypse.'
Liam's eyes widened, his expression shifting through several shades of disbelief. His jaw dropped, and he threw a glance over his shoulder as if expecting some hidden camera to catch his reaction. A zombie apocalypse? The wordless shock radiated from him, his shoulders sagging slightly, the grim realization setting in that he had no choice in this twisted game.
He raised a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes in exaggerated horror, as if trying to process the absurdity of it all. His lips twisted in a silent, bitter laugh, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. Of course, his expression seemed to say, of course I'd be sent to a zombie-infested nightmare right out the gate.
He took a deep breath, his hands briefly pressed together in a silent plea to whatever forces had decided this fate for him. The thought of stumbling around, fighting off undead hordes while barely surviving, stretched before him like a sick joke he wasn't quite ready to face. He didn't have to say a word—the look of resigned dread, mixed with a faint glimmer of sarcastic amusement, said everything.
Liam squinted up at the ceiling, or maybe just the void, his eyebrows raised in a look of sheer exasperation. He let out a shaky, almost sarcastic laugh, then threw his hands up in a silent plea.
"Is this—do you… do you hate me?" he asked, his voice a blend of disbelief and grudging humor, as though he were talking to a particularly spiteful friend.
Nothing. No response, no whisper, no click of some unseen machine processing his question. Just silence, the kind that seemed to mock him in its total indifference.
Liam looked around, half-expecting some signal, some flashing light to show him it was all just a bad prank. But the emptiness held steady, and he let out a long, defeated sigh, crossing his arms with a look that could've curdled milk. So this is how it's gonna be? his expression said, almost daring the system to respond.
Of course, it didn't.
Liam let out a long, resigned sigh, muttering under his breath, "Alright, I get it. This is the universe's big 'gotcha' moment, huh? Punishment for my sins?" He gave a dry, humorless laugh, then looked around the empty room as if hoping the system—or the universe itself—might find this funny too.
He rubbed his temples, flashing a bitter grin. "Maybe this is what I get for ghosting Emily sophomore year. Or for telling Kate I was 'just too busy with work' when really, I just couldn't commit." He winced, memories of awkward breakups and carefully rehearsed excuses flashing across his mind like an ironic slideshow.
"And then there was the whole corporate side," he added, folding his arms with a shrug that seemed to say, Yeah, I probably deserve it. "That merger in '22? I might have fudged a few numbers. Oh, and that one time I got my assistant to cancel the charity gala just so I could squeeze in a poker night with my buddies." He let out another laugh, shaking his head. "Class act, right?"
For a moment, he gazed at the shadows around him, his face shifting into a look of wary acceptance. A zombie apocalypse, his expression seemed to say. Of all the ways the universe could throw him under the bus, it had gone for a literal end-of-days punishment.
"Alright, universe, lesson learned," he muttered. He let his head drop back, a look of sarcastic surrender in his eyes, as he whispered, "Let the zombie carnage begin."
Just as Liam finished muttering, the darkness around him rippled, shifting like fog pulling back to reveal a scene that felt all too real. The sterile void gave way to bloodied city streets, recently ravaged by chaos, smeared with grime and littered with overturned cars and abandoned belongings.
A harsh, sickly-yellow light flickered from a cracked street lamp, casting eerie shadows across shattered storefronts and alleyways piled high with debris, remnants of a life disrupted only days before. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, a haunting reminder of the frantic escape from the recent outbreak that had turned the city into a nightmare.
The system's cold, disembodied voice returned, unbothered by Liam's obvious discomfort. 'Prepare for immediate threat. Your new reality begins now.'
Liam's eyes went wide, and he took a startled step back, his mind scrambling to process the abrupt change. "Wait, wait, immediate threat?" he spat, his heart hammering. "Are you serious right now? You're just throwing me in here like it's some kind of…of haunted theme park ride?"
He whipped his head around, frantically scanning for any signs of life—or un-life, as it was. The eerie silence only stretched his nerves tighter, as if every shadow held something waiting to lunge.
"Listen!" he shouted into the air, his voice tinged with growing desperation. "A little prep time would've been nice! A flashlight, maybe? Or, I don't know, a weapon?" He let out a nervous, humorless laugh, realizing he was talking to himself more than anything, the system as indifferent as ever.
Just then, a low, guttural groan echoed from somewhere nearby. His entire body went rigid, dread pooling in his stomach. Liam spun around, his eyes wide as he caught sight of a shambling figure emerging from the shadows—its skin pallid, torn, and eyes that stared, empty and lifeless, straight at him.
"Oh, hell no," he whispered, cursing under his breath. He backed up a step, only to hear another groan from behind him. Panic surged as he glanced over his shoulder, spotting another figure dragging itself toward him, and another from across the street.
"Seriously?" he hissed, fighting to keep his voice steady. He shot another glare at the sky, half-expecting the system to be watching. "I haven't even been here for a minute, and you're already trying to get me killed?"