I noticed a beautiful woman sitting at her desk, engrossed in reviewing documents with a focused and serious expression. The intensity of her concentration only seemed to enhance her charm. She was wearing a light pink saree that made her look stunningly elegant, while a strand of her long, black hair fell across her eyes. Watching her, I felt an urge to gently tuck away that strand of hair behind her ear. She exuded the aura of an icy, poised CEO — a character straight out of the novels I've read. I have to admit, she looks even more stunning in person than in the photos I've seen on her social media.
I'm not sure if becoming a zombie emperor has made me more attracted to women, or if it's the newfound sense of security and power from my undead bloodline that's given me the courage to let go of everything that once held me back. In the past, all I could think about was seeking revenge on a world that had been cruel and unforgiving to me. But now, I realize that maybe it's time to enjoy the journey instead — to savor the freedom and embrace the changes, rather than being consumed by the bitterness of the past.
As I walked in, I was immediately struck by the room's elegance. It resembled a luxurious hotel suite, with its polished hardwood floors, soft ambient lighting, and tasteful furnishings. The space exuded a sense of refined sophistication, though oddly, there was no bed to be found. Instead, sleek, contemporary furniture was thoughtfully arranged—plush armchairs with velvet cushions, a marble-topped coffee table, and a tall, ornate bookshelf filled with leather-bound books. The walls were adorned with framed abstract art, and large windows bathed the room in natural light, offering a view of the city skyline. The overall design was meticulously curated, blending modern minimalism with a touch of opulence, creating an atmosphere that was both inviting and awe-inspiring.
As Priya walked toward Sneha, I followed closely behind. Priya approached Sneha, who was still absorbed in her documents, not even lifting her head. Without hesitation, Priya decided to introduce me to her first, then let me sit in the room and wait while Sneha finished her work before the interview could begin. I could tell this was the plan from the way Priya was subtly gesturing for me to come along with her.
Priya turned to Sneha and said, "Ma'am, let me introduce this gentleman to you. He's here to interview you." As I glanced at Priya, I couldn't help but think that she and Sneha must have a strong rapport. After all, Priya was able to bring me in without any questions or hesitation from anyone, which suggested a level of trust between them
When Priya spoke, Sneha lifted her head for the first time, her gaze shifting toward Priya before slowly drifting toward me. For a brief, telling moment, I saw the same stunned look in her eyes that I had seen in Priya's when we first met—an unguarded flicker of surprise, almost as if my presence had caught her off-guard. But just as quickly, as if it were a reflex, she masked her expression, her face slipping back into its usual impassive, aloof state. It was almost as though the moment of vulnerability had never happened. I realized then that this must be one of Sneha's finely honed skills, cultivated over years in her high-ranking government position, where maintaining control over one's emotions was essential. Her ability to mask any hint of surprise or weakness was flawless, a testament to the discipline required in her line of work.
I couldn't stop thinking about the syringe hidden under my sleeve, but with Priya still there, I held back. I decided to wait until Sneha and I were alone, then I'd make my move and inject it when the moment was right
"Good day, Madam. My name is Michael, and I am a reporter who publishes articles online. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"'Hello, Mr. Michael,' Sneha said, extending her hand toward me for a handshake, her face adorned with a polite smile."
As I held her hand, I felt an unexpected softness, a smoothness that made my fingers tingle. My heartbeat quickened, thudding in my chest as if it were alive again, suddenly more aware of everything around me. The sensation of her skin against mine was jarring in the best possible way. The truth was, even before everything had changed—before I had become what I was now—I had never experienced this kind of simple, human connection. I had never held a woman's hand before, never felt the subtle pressure of someone else's touch. My entire life had been a series of missed moments, of being on the outside looking in. And now, here I was, touching the hand of this stunning woman, a high-ranking official with a poise and elegance that seemed worlds apart from my own existence. For a moment, I almost forgot where I was, caught in the rush of emotion that came from something so small, yet so new to me.
"I smiled politely at her, gently releasing her hand, and said, 'Apologies for interrupting, Ms. Sneha. I can see you're quite busy at the moment. We can discuss the interview once you have finished with your work.'
Hearing my words, I noticed a subtle shift in her demeanor. Her posture remained rigid and professional, but there was a brief flicker of relief in her eyes as if she appreciated my respect for her time and space. I did this deliberately, hoping it would leave a positive impression and make it easier for me to approach her later. From the way she carried herself, I imagined she must have been irritated by reporters or journalists in the past, people who would rush in with a barrage of questions without considering her privacy or respecting her boundaries.
"Thank you for your understanding, Mr. Michael. Don't worry, I'll give you an exclusive interview once I finish with my work here. You can wait for me to finish, and then we can start the interview," Sneha said, gesturing for Priya to show me to the sofas in the room.
Priya came over, guided me toward the sofa, and said with a friendly smile, "Please, feel free to get comfortable."
I thought Priya must have been happy with the way I addressed Sneha, as she seemed to be a friend of hers.
As I sat down, Priya walked over to the coffee machine and began preparing a cup of coffee. After a while, she returned with the mug and offered it to me. I accepted it with a simple nod and thanked her.
After handing me the coffee, Priya walked over to Sneha's desk and took a seat in the chair beside it. She began helping Sneha sort through some documents, quietly assisting her without interrupting the flow of work.
I glanced at Sneha and Priya, noticing that both of them kept sneaking glances in my direction. I couldn't tell if it was intentional or just a coincidence, but their furtive looks caught my attention nonetheless.
As I looked at both of them, I found myself momentarily lost in the intensity of the moment. I had never been treated with such respect, admiration, and even a touch of warmth by anyone—especially not by women as poised and powerful as Priya and Sneha. The way they regarded me, with genuine attention and an almost unspoken understanding, stirred something deep within me. I wasn't sure what to call it—was it love? Care? For the first time, I felt something other than the cold emptiness I had grown used to. It was as if, in this room with them, something was awakening inside me, something I hadn't known I was capable of feeling.
I didn't fully understand the emotions churning within me, but one thing was certain: I knew I couldn't just let go of these feelings. There was a weight to this newfound sense of connection, and I felt an undeniable urge to protect it. No matter what I would become in the future—whether a monster or something else entirely—
I promised myself that I would protect those who showed me care and respect—the ones who had given me kindness when I needed it most. I would safeguard their smiles and return the love they had shown me, especially after I set my zombie plan into motion. Once the attack began, I wouldn't care who lived or died in the chaos. But those who had earned my trust, I would shield them from harm. After all, in a world torn apart by a zombie apocalypse, humans could become far more terrifying than the undead.
Now that they had given me something precious, I knew I would protect it at any cost.
But that doesn't mean I'm willing to give up on my ultimate goal of becoming the "one above all," the power I've always sought. Now, with the system in place and a main task centered on world domination, everything is falling into place. It aligns perfectly with my vision of transcending humanity and gaining control over every situation.
Time seemed to fly as I got lost in my thoughts. Suddenly, I saw Priya stand up and walk out of the room. I knew my opportunity had come, and I had to act quickly—if I hesitated, she would be back before I could make my move.
I glanced around and noticed a stack of 100ml water bottles on the desk. My eyes then drifted to Sneha, who was still deeply focused on her work. It struck me that she hadn't eaten or drunk anything for a while, her attention completely absorbed in what she was doing.
I quickly formulated a plan to offer her a water bottle containing my blood, and without delay, I stood up and walked over to the desk, where water bottles and some snacks were scattered.
I picked up a water bottle and carefully injected the syringe into the cap, making sure not to empty the entire contents. I kept some of the syringe's contents as a backup, just in case she didn't drink the water. I wanted to be prepared for any scenario, ensuring that my plan would succeed no matter what.
As I injected the syringe into the water bottle, I made sure to keep my back turned to Sneha, knowing she wouldn't be able to see anything. My movements were deliberate and careful, ensuring that everything was done discreetly.
After injecting my blood into the bottle, I examined the water, hoping to notice any visible change. The bottle was transparent plastic, so I could clearly see the contents. To my relief, I saw that my blood had quickly diluted and blended with the water, leaving no trace of its presence. It was exactly what I had hoped for — discreet and undetectable.
After securing the bottle, I turned around and walked up to Sneha's desk. As I approached, she turned her head to look at me, a silent question in her gaze, as if asking what had happened.
I quickly unscrewed the cap, feeling the slight resistance as it came off, and placed it gently on her desk. My eyes lingered on the bottle for a moment before I looked up at her, my voice carrying an unexpected softness
"Perhaps you could take a moment to rest... and drink some water to hydrate yourself. You're working so hard for others, but you need to look after yourself as well." I said, my voice carrying a note of genuine concern. My words felt almost foreign, yet I meant them with an unexpected sincerity. I had been so focused on the task at hand, but now, looking at her—at Sneha—I couldn't help but notice how weary she seemed beneath her composed exterior.
She had been working non-stop, her sharp gaze never wavering, always attentive, always in control. I knew she was strong, but I also knew no one could keep that up forever. As I spoke, I gestured toward the bottle of water on the desk, hoping it would be an invitation for her to pause, even if just for a moment.
Sneha's expression shifted slightly as if surprised by the softness in my tone. There was a brief flicker of something in her eyes—appreciation, perhaps, or something deeper—before her usual poise took over. But I saw it, that brief, human moment. For a second, I wondered if she would take the water bottle or not.
"Thank you," she said, her voice steady but softer than usual, a quiet acknowledgment of my offer. It was small, but in that instant, it felt like progress.
After she said thank you she picked up the water and started drinking the water.