Damien was surrounded. He quickly entered the car he came out from. Zombies pressed in from all sides, their guttural groans filling the air as they clawed at the car he had taken refuge in. He slammed the doors shut and locked them, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. Sweat dripped down his face, mixing with the grime of battle. The sword lay uselessly across his lap—his arms too weak to lift it after hours of relentless fighting.
He slumped back against the seat, his breath ragged. The frustration in his chest burned, but he didn't regret his choice to face the horde. "I just wasn't ready for this…" he muttered under his breath.
A sharp bang shattered his thoughts—glass splintered as a zombie's rotting hand smashed through the window. Its grotesque, bloodied claws latched onto his shirt, pulling him toward its snapping jaws.
"WTF! Leave me, you motherf**ker!" Damien yelled, panic flooding his veins. Grabbing the sword with trembling hands, he swung it with all the strength he could muster, slicing clean through the zombie's wrist. The severed hand fell limply onto his lap, but the relentless horde outside only grew more frenzied.
He kicked his legs out in frustration, his heel pounding against the car floor. The sound of metal creaking echoed beneath him. Frowning, he struck the same spot again, harder this time. With a loud clang, the floor beneath his feet shifted, swinging open like a trapdoor.
Damien froze. Beneath the car was a tunnel—a dark, narrow passage that seemed to lead somewhere out of the zombies' reach. His heart raced as he realized the car must have been parked intentionally to hide the entrance.
"Guess I don't have a choice," he muttered, grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He shoved the tunnel door fully open and lowered himself into the darkness.
What he didn't anticipate was how deep it was.
The ground rushed up to meet him as he dropped, landing heavily on his feet. Pain exploded through his right ankle, shooting up his leg and into his brain like lightning. He screamed in agony before collapsing to the ground, clutching at his leg. The world spun, his vision dimming as waves of pain overtook him.
And then—darkness.
---
When Damien woke, his first thought was confusion. The air was cold, and the tunnel around him was pitch black. He blinked, his body still lying on the hard floor, trying to recall where he was and what had happened. Slowly, the events of the night before flooded back—zombies, the car, the tunnel... the fall.
His hand instinctively went to his ankle. But the pain he expected wasn't there. He flexed his foot cautiously, only to realize there was no injury at all.
"What the...?" Damien muttered, sitting up. His mind reeled as he pressed his hands against his leg, expecting to find swelling or tenderness. But there was nothing. His ankle had completely healed.
Grabbing his bag, he fumbled inside until his fingers found his flashlight. The beam of light cut through the darkness, revealing the rough stone walls of the tunnel around him.
That's when it hit him.
Aria's words echoed in his mind. "You'll grow stronger every time you survive."
Was this it? Was this what she meant? He didn't feel stronger exactly, but there was something... different. The bone-deep exhaustion that had plagued him earlier was gone. His muscles no longer ached, and his mind felt sharper, more focused.
Damien pushed himself to his feet with ease. "So this is what she was talking about..." he murmured. "But why don't I feel stronger? I just feel... recharged."
Shaking his head, he aimed the flashlight ahead of him, taking in the tunnel that stretched endlessly into the darkness. It seemed like whoever had designed this place had meant for it to be a refuge—or maybe a trap.
"Well, no point standing around," he said, gripping his sword tightly. "Let's see where this leads."
Damien took his first step into the unknown, his shadow stretching out before him as the beam of his flashlight guided the way. Whatever awaited him in the depths of this tunnel, he was ready to face it