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June 2, 2026 at 4:02 PM
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He ran out of ammo, and had to resort to using a sword he'd stolen from some collector, whom it hadn't helped.
Alphen reacted tensely to every slightest rustle. But there were too many small sounds in the dead city: drawn-out breathing merged with the hissing of pipes; the quiet clicking of claws mingled with drops falling into a puddle, with crackling of electricity from torn wires; the crash of fallen signs or cornices; explosions echoed every now and then. Less often, they were military ones, more often, domestic ones…
'I'll go crazy before they eat me…'
With a careless step, Alphen accidentally kicked a tin can. The clicking accelerated— Alphen barely had time to jump aside before something like a spear cut through the air next to him and immediately returned.
'What the…?'
Alphen had never seen such a monster. There were countless human zombie and animals. But this… He couldn't even fathom what it originally was. A long, bloody tongue writhed between sharp teeth, a massive brain literally protruding, no eyes, and it moved on four widely spaced limbs with long, sharp claws capable of clinging even to stone. It was as if it had no skin, or at least too thin for the human eye to perceive. Its appearance was numbing—as if time stood still.
However, the monster wasn't going to give him time to process what he'd seen. Since his tongue attack hadn't been effective, the creature quickly closed in to attack with its claws, then with its tongue again.
Agility and practiced reflexes allowed Alphen to dodge and counterattack. First, he cut off the tongue, then plunged the sword into the brain. Just a moment. But in that moment, Alphen endured more than he had in several years of his life.
'I need to get out of this city!'
And Alphen would have been glad to, but it wasn't so easy: many roads were blocked, the sewers were clogged, and monsters roamed the streets in droves. The notorious quarantine with the order to stay at home took away the chance for salvation when the city was still predominantly populated by living people. And humans were less of a problem! Their zombies were clumsy and could only catch their victim off guard by surprise or in a crowd. Dogs and crows were a far greater threat! And that recent creature…
'What the hell was that?'
Moving around the city became more frightening and dangerous. Although Alphen maintained a visible calm, his soul was far from calm. At one point, his anxiety even made him dizzy. Fatigue and lack of sleep didn't add to his optimism. But Alphen would have preferred a cup of hot coffee to sleep—an unimaginable luxury at that moment. But he could very well open the canned food he'd brought from home: there was no point in rummaging through the stores, since panic-mongers had already stolen everything at the beginning of the quarantine. The only problem was finding a relatively safe place to at least cover his back.
To avoid wasting time, Alphen continued toward the city's exit, searching for a place to settle down for a while. Surprisingly, he soon found one. Fortunately… Alphen was feeling completely exhausted, his head was starting to spin. But what was letting him down was his stomach. Or had the canned food gone bad after all? The hungry Alphen couldn't tell, having emptied his stomach, where the precious canned food hadn't lasted long.
'If this continues, it won't be from monsters that I die…'
His concentration was no longer sufficient to adequately defend himself, so Alphen chose his path with particular care. He couldn't allow himself to sleep: he was too afraid he'd never wake up. He couldn't stomach food either: the mere thought of it made him sick. With the last of his strength, he shuffled along, searching for the road with a hazy gaze, until he heard the click of a magazine being changed.
"Stop!" he hastily raised his hands. "I'm a human!"
"For how long?" a stern female voice rang out.
Squinting, trying to make out the stranger, Alphen took in her general features: tall, wearing a white dress, her long, pinkish-blond hair pulled back into a ponytail so it wouldn't interfere with the rifle aimed at his face.
"I'm just tired. I haven't eaten or slept in a while, so I'm not in the best of shape."
"Have you always had blisters and signs of infection on your body, or is that also a sign of lack of sleep?"
'Blisters?'
Alphen looked at his arm—nothing. He had to roll up his sleeve to see the blisters and sores—signs of an advanced infection.
'But when…?'
He never allowed a single zombie to come closer than sword-point, which he wielded flawlessly. Even when he was ill, he successfully avoided all the creatures.
'Tongue!'
Realization struck instantly. The only thing that could have wounded him could have done so from afar, even before he'd even noticed it. Alphen looked back at his legs. A hole was visible in one of his shins. It wasn't deep, so the bleeding had stopped on its own over time. But even a small scratch was enough to cause infection. Alphen hadn't even noticed that he'd literally been dead for a couple of hours…
Alphen looked at the rifle barrel. The girl held it confidently, not allowing the sight to waver, using her surroundings to her advantage. It was no wonder she'd survived so far. But her survival depended, among other things, on her ammunition—Alphen reached for his sword.
"Don't waste bullets…" he muttered, fighting the lump in his throat. He stared intently at the sword, his faithful partner.
Die while still human? Or fight to the last, ultimately becoming an obstacle to others who wished to survive?
Alphen didn't want to die… Even though his life was useless anymore. He was barely holding on to consciousness. He had almost turned into a flesh-eating monster. He couldn't even eat human food…
A rumble sounded off to the side—a crowd of zombies had broken through another barrier. That path could lead to freedom. As could another one, but…
"You're heading for the exit too, aren't you?" asked Alphen. "So, there's no way through there?" he suggested, guessing where the girl might have come from. He was heading in that direction, hoping to find salvation.
"Yes," she answered curtly.
"Then there’s only one way left."
Alphen looked at the slowly shuffling crowd filling the street. He wouldn't have gotten close to that crowd; the creatures would have overwhelmed him not by speed or ability, but by sheer numbers. But that was no longer important.
"I'll clear the way for you. You still have a chance to survive."
"You're condemning yourself to a painful death…" The girl felt uneasy at the thought. However, she lowered her weapon, uncertain. "It would be more merciful if I killed you quickly."
Alphen couldn't help but grin.
"Don't worry about the torment," his voice even took on a bit of liveliness, so ironically funny and bitter was it. His curse at the end of his life could have turned out to be a gift. "I've felt no pain since birth. So go and don't look back, don't pity me. I'm already dead, aren't I?" he smiled weakly, trying to look the stranger in the eyes.
"What's your name? I'll remember."
"Alphen."
"Shionne. I'm both glad and sorry I didn't become your executioner."
"At least now there'll be someone to engrave my name on the mass grave."
Alphen went first. His movements were as clumsy as those of the zombies, but his trusty sword still cut reliably. Alphen no longer feared being bitten, so sometimes, for convenience, he even exposed himself to the teeth, plunging the blade into softened heads or chopping necks.
He and Shionne advanced confidently toward the relatively safe zone. But just in front of it, a particularly dense crowd formed. His bitten hands could no longer hold weapon—the creatures had managed to gnaw through a nerve—so there was only one solution. Alphen lured them all toward him: the zombies eagerly followed the scent of fresh blood, not yet fully tainted with the stench of carrion. By clearing the way for Shionne, Alphen had driven himself into a trap from which he had no plans to escape.
The zombies overwhelmed him. He didn't feel the teeth tearing chunks from his body. He felt more fear, having spent the last part of the journey almost in darkness. At some point, his consciousness simply blacked out. Was it from his wounds or had he managed to transform into a monster? It didn't matter anymore. Even if he rose, no longer of interest to the walking corpses, Shionne was already far away. He'd already given her a significant chance to survive. That's why, in his final seconds, the smile never left his face.
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