Adrian's bare feet stuck to the blood-slick hospital floor as he crept down the hallway. The IV stand trembled in his grip—not from fear, but from the lingering aftershocks of whatever the System had done to his muscles.
*"STR 3.1 my ass,"* he thought, rolling his newly thickened shoulders. The pain had faded, replaced by a strange, buzzing energy. Like his body wasn't entirely his anymore.
The moans grew louder.
Around the corner, three Walkers shuffled through broken glass, their heads snapping up at his scent. Fresh ones—still plump with rotting fat, their movements less jerky than the skeletal nurse.
Adrian's lips peeled back from his teeth. He smashed a fire extinguisher off the wall. The clatter drew the closest Walker—a janitor with half its face missing.
The IV stand whistled through the air.
*CRACK.*
The janitor's knee buckled backward. As it fell, Adrian drove the stand through its ear. Black ooze sprayed across his hospital gown.
» BLUNT WEAPONS: LVL 1 (5/100 → 11/100 XP)
» KILL CONFIRMED.
The other two lunged.
Adrian backpedaled, his bare heel landing on a syringe. It shattered under his weight, plastic biting into flesh. He barely felt it—not with the adrenaline screaming through his veins.
A Walker's teeth sank into his forearm.
Pain exploded—white-hot and electric. Adrian roared, slamming the creature against the wall. Its teeth tore free, taking a chunk of his flesh with it.
» WOUND DETECTED: DEEP LACERATION (LEFT FOREARM)
» INFECTION RISK: 89% | BLOOD LOSS: MODERATE
The remaining Walker grabbed his throat.
Adrian's vision tunneled. He barely registered his own hand snatching up the broken syringe, jamming it into the thing's eyeball. It screeched, fingers loosening just enough—
*THUNK.*
The IV stand caved its skull in.
Silence.
Adrian collapsed against the wall, clutching his bleeding arm. His weapon slipped from his fingers with a metallic clatter, barely audible over the ragged sound of his own breathing. Blood seeped between his fingers, hot and insistent, each pulse sending a fresh wave of pain up his shoulder.. The System pulsed relentlessly:
» CALORIC DEFICIT CRITICAL (REMAINING: 387/1200)
» RECOMMENDED ACTION: LOCATE FOOD STORAGE (EST. 82 YARDS NW)
"Dammit," he hissed through gritted teeth. The system flickered in his vision, mocking him. His endurance was shit, and now he was paying for it.
But he pushed himself up anyway.
Because the alternative was dying.
And Adrian Black refused to die in a hospital gown.
Adrian's breath was coming in ragged gasps. The bite on his forearm pulsed with sickening heat, tendrils of fire crawling up his veins. He pressed a torn strip of hospital gown against it, watching the fabric darken with blood.
With his good arm, he fumbled for the torn remains of his shirt, ripping a strip of fabric to bind the wound. It wouldn't hold long, but it would have to be enough.
» WOUND ANALYSIS COMPLETE
» PATHOGEN DETECTED: STRAIN TWD-47
» SYSTEM COUNTERMEASURES ENGAGED
A new sensation flooded his arm - not pain, but something colder. Like liquid nitrogen pumping through his bloodstream, fighting the infection inch by inch.
*"You're... fighting it?"*
The System didn't answer.
Shoving himself upright, Adrian stumbled toward the nurses' station. His vision swam with every step, the hallway stretching and warping like a funhouse mirror. The moans of more Walkers echoed from adjacent wings, but they sounded distant now. Muffled.
The break room door hung crooked on its hinges. Inside, vending machines stood like gutted corpses, their glass fronts smashed. But behind the microwave -
*"Jackpot."*
A mini-fridge, still humming weakly on backup power. Inside: three diet cokes, a yogurt cup (expired yesterday), and a wrapped turkey sandwich.
Adrian's stomach clenched as he ripped open the plastic wrap, the scent of processed turkey hitting him like a drug. The first bite was a paradox—dry bread, limp lettuce, and factory-seasoned meat that somehow tasted like the best thing he'd ever eaten. The preservative aftertaste burned like gasoline, but he didn't care.
He devoured half the sandwich in four ravenous bites before forcing himself to slow down. The yogurt was next—slightly sour, but still edible. He scraped the cup clean with his finger, then cracked open a Diet Coke. The fizz stung his cracked lips, the artificial sweetness felt like heaven.
» CALORIC INTAKE: 420kcal
» METABOLIC BOOST INITIATED
Energy flooded his limbs. The fog in his brain lifted just enough for him to notice the clipboard hanging by the door.
**QUARANTINE NOTICE**
*Test Subjects #14-22 exhibiting abnormal aggression*
*Morgue lockdown protocol initiated*
*Dr. L. Simmons - 10/31/2010*
The dates didn't make sense. This outbreak started weeks ago. Unless...
A scream ripped through the hospital.
Human.
Alive.
And coming from the direction of the morgue.
Backup power won't last forever.
He stuffed the remaining food into his pockets, chugged the soda. The sugar hit his system like a spark, sharpening the world for a few precious seconds.
Adrian's fingers tightened around his weapon. The System pulsed in his skull like a second heartbeat:
» PRIMARY DIRECTIVE UPDATED
» LOCATE SURVIVOR (SURVIVAL SYNERGY POTENTIAL: 87%)
"Time to move."
He took a shuddering breath and stepped into the hallway. The lights flickered once, twice, then died completely.