Damien trudged through the tunnel, his flashlight the only source of illumination in the oppressive darkness. Each step echoed faintly, swallowed by the walls as though the tunnel itself was alive and listening. He had been walking for what felt like hours, the monotony of stone and shadow stretching endlessly before him.
His grip on the sword tightened. Fatigue gnawed at him again, not in his body, but in his spirit. The overwhelming quiet was maddening, and the weight of solitude pressed heavily on his mind.
"How much farther can this thing go?" Damien muttered to himself, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silence.
Just as he was ready to give in to the oppressive bleakness, a faint light glimmered in the distance. His breath hitched, and a surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. Was it an exit? Hope flared within him as he quickened his pace, sword raised and ready for anything that might lie ahead.
When Damien reached the source of the light, he froze. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes adjusted to the scene before him.
It wasn't an exit.
The space opened up into what looked like an abandoned laboratory, the faint glow emanating from flickering overhead lights. Broken tables and shattered glass littered the floor, but that wasn't what made his stomach churn.
Blood.
It was everywhere.
Fresh pools of it stained the floor and walls, its metallic scent heavy in the air. Damien crouched down, his hand hovering over one particularly large pool of crimson. He dipped his fingers into the liquid and inspected it carefully.
"This just happened..." he murmured.
His eyes darted to the patterns within the blood. Footprints—many of them. He noted the size and shape of the impressions: small ones, big ones, all human. No signs of dragging or shuffling like a zombie would leave.
"Humans," he whispered. "But what the hell were they running from?"
Standing up, Damien scanned the room. His flashlight revealed even more unsettling details: bullet holes riddling the walls and a scattering of spent ammo casings littering the floor. He crouched again, picking up one of the casings and wiping the blood off it. Holding it up to the flickering light, he examined its markings.
But before he could discern anything useful, a chill ran down his spine.
That unease. The sensation of being watched.
Slowly, Damien lowered the casing and tilted his flashlight upward.
His blood ran cold.
Hanging from the ceiling, its grotesque form blending into the shadows, was an evolved zombie. Its elongated limbs clung to the ceiling beams, its unnaturally large eyes glinting faintly in the light. Saliva dripped from its open mouth, filled with jagged, predatory teeth.
Damien's heart pounded violently in his chest as the realization hit him: it has been watching him this entire time. Waiting.
The creature shifted slightly, it's body tensing slightly like a coiled spring. Damien gripped his sword tightly. His breathing shallow as he prepared himself for what was about to happen next.
The evolved zombie sprang from the ceiling with lightning speed, claws extended toward Damien's head. He barely had time to sidestep, the creature's talons grazing his shoulder as it landed with a guttural screech.
Damien stumbled back, gripping his sword tightly as he adjusted his stance. The adrenaline coursing through him sharpened his senses, and he felt a strange clarity. This thing wasn't just another mindless zombie—it was fast, calculated, and far more dangerous than anything he had faced before.
It lunged at him again, claws slashing wildly. Damien ducked, narrowly avoiding the attack, and swung his sword upward in retaliation. The blade sliced through the creature's arm, severing it at the elbow. Blackened blood sprayed across the floor as the limb fell with a sickening thud.
The evolved shrieked, a sound that echoed painfully through the lab, and recoiled, clutching its stump. Damien steadied himself, his chest heaving as he assessed the situation.
But something was different.
He wasn't panicking.
In fact, Damien felt... exhilarated. His movements were fluid, his reactions lightning-fast. The fatigue that had weighed him down earlier seemed like a distant memory.
This is what Aria meant...
The thought crossed his mind as the zombie charged at him once more, its remaining claw swiping toward his chest. This time, Damien didn't retreat. He leaned into the attack, sidestepping at the last second and slashing across its torso with brutal precision.
The creature roared in pain as another torrent of black blood spilled onto the floor. Damien pressed the advantage, pivoting on his heel and slicing through one of its legs. The limb gave way, and the evolved stumbled, collapsing to one knee.
"Not so tough now, are you?" Damien growled, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin.
The evolved lashed out with its remaining leg, aiming to knock Damien off balance, but he anticipated the move. Jumping back, he avoided the strike and brought his sword down with all his might, cleaving through the creature's shoulder and halfway into its chest.
The zombie howled, its movements becoming frantic and desperate. Damien pulled his sword free with a grunt, sending a spray of dark ichor across his face. He wiped his cheek with his sleeve and readied himself for the next strike.
The fight dragged on, each clash of blade against flesh a testament to Damien's newfound strength. The evolved leaped onto a nearby lab table, using the higher ground to launch itself at him. But Damien was faster. He ducked under its attack, spinning on his heels and slicing across its midsection as it passed.
The creature hit the ground hard, its torso nearly split in two. It thrashed wildly, clawing at the floor as Damien circled it.
"Come on," he taunted, his voice filled with newfound confidence. "Is that all you've got?"
The evolved turned to face him, its glowing eyes filled with primal rage. It lunged again, but its movements were sluggish now. Damien sidestepped easily and swung his blade with unrelenting force, severing its other leg at the knee.
The zombie collapsed, a pitiful heap of limbs and fury, its body writhing as it struggled to move.
Finally, Damien stood over it, his chest heaving as he raised his sword for the final blow. With a shout, he brought the blade down, slicing through the creature's neck and separating its head from its body.
Silence filled the lab.
Damien staggered back, his sword dripping with black blood as he slumped against a nearby table. His arms trembled from exertion, and his breathing was ragged.
He glanced at the lifeless corpse of the evolved, its limbs strewn across the floor in a grisly display. A sense of triumph washed over him, and for the first time since this nightmare began, he allowed himself a small smile.
"I did it..." he muttered, sinking to the floor.
The adrenaline began to fade, replaced by a dull ache in his muscles. He closed his eyes, letting himself bask in the moment of victory.
But the moment didn't last.
A sound shattered the silence—a low, wet, wobbling noise that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Damien's eyes snapped open, and he turned toward the source of the sound. His heart stopped.
The evolved zombie, the one he had just painstakingly dismembered, was rising to its feet. Its severed limbs were regenerating before his eyes, muscles and sinew knitting together as though nothing had happened.
Within moments, it stood there, whole and unscathed, its glowing eyes fixed on Damien with renewed hunger.
Damien's mouth went dry as he scrambled backward, his sword slipping from his grasp.
"No... no, no, no," he stammered, his voice trembling.
The creature let out a low, guttural growl, taking a step toward him.
"Are you fucking kidding me!!!"
****
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