Chapter 1: The World Has Ended
Zealot Awoken groggily as sunlight streamed through the curtains of his apartment.
The warm rays landed directly on his face, forcing him to squint.
"Why is it so bright?"
His voice was hoarse.
Reaching toward his bedside table, he searched for his phone.
The familiar electronic alarm that normally woke him every morning was absent.
His fingers touched the cold screen of his phone.
Picking it up, he glanced at the display.
9:47 AM.
His eyes widened.
"What?!"
He nearly fell out of bed.
"I'M LATE!"
His manager was already looking for reasons to fire employees. Being almost two hours late was practically handing the man an excuse.
Zealot jumped from the bed and rushed toward the bathroom.
As he reached for the light switch, nothing happened.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The bathroom remained dark.
"Huh?"
He frowned.
A power outage?
That was strange.
His apartment complex rarely lost electricity.
Pushing the thought aside, he turned the shower handle.
Nothing.
No hot water.
Only a few weak drops emerged before stopping completely.
"This has to be a joke."
After several failed attempts, he gave up.
Fortunately, there was still a little water stored in the emergency tank above the building.
Using what remained, he quickly washed himself.
Ten minutes later, he emerged dressed in a plain white shirt, black trousers, and polished shoes.
After grabbing his work bag, he stepped into the hallway.
The corridor felt unusually silent.
Normally, neighbors would be leaving for work or chatting while waiting for the elevator.
Today, there was nothing.
No voices.
No footsteps.
No movement.
Only silence.
A strange feeling crept into his chest.
He walked toward the elevator.
The display was dead.
The power outage had affected the entire building.
"Wonderful."
Twelve floors.
He would have to take the stairs.
By the time he reached the stairwell, he was already sweating.
"At least I won't need a gym membership today."
The joke sounded hollow.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
As he descended floor after floor, the silence became more noticeable.
No residents.
No maintenance workers.
No children.
Nothing.
Even the distant traffic noise from outside seemed absent.
By the time he reached the ground floor, a thin layer of unease had settled over his mind.
The lobby was empty.
Completely empty.
The receptionist's desk stood abandoned.
A half-finished cup of coffee rested beside a computer that had gone dark.
A chair lay overturned nearby.
Zealot stopped walking.
The hairs on his neck stood up.
His instincts screamed that something was wrong.
Slowly, he approached the building's glass entrance.
Outside, the city appeared strangely deserted.
Several vehicles had collided in the middle of the road.
One car sat atop the sidewalk.
Another had crashed through a convenience store window.
Debris littered the streets.
His heartbeat accelerated.
"What happened?"
He pushed open the door slightly.
A foul smell entered immediately.
Blood.
The metallic scent nearly made him gag.
His eyes drifted downward.
Dark red stains covered the pavement.
Pieces of flesh were scattered across the road.
A severed arm rested near an abandoned motorcycle.
Zealot froze.
His mind refused to process what he was seeing.
Suddenly—
A growl echoed in the distance.
His head snapped upward.
Several hundred meters away, a figure staggered between abandoned vehicles.
The figure moved strangely.
Its clothes were torn.
Its skin looked pale.
Blood covered its face.
Then it turned.
Their eyes met.
The creature's mouth opened.
A horrifying scream erupted.
The figure began sprinting directly toward him.
Not running.
Sprinting.
Fast.
Far too fast.
Adrenaline exploded through Zealot's body.
Every instinct screamed at him.
Run.
NOW.
Without hesitation, he slammed the glass door shut.
BANG!
The creature continued charging.
Zealot didn't stay to watch.
He spun around and ran.
His footsteps thundered through the lobby.
The stairwell door burst open as he practically threw himself inside.
His heart pounded violently.
His lungs burned.
The image of that thing replayed endlessly inside his head.
"No..."
"No..."
"This can't be happening..."
He climbed the stairs two at a time.
Floor after floor.
His breathing became ragged.
His legs screamed in protest.
But he didn't stop.
Behind him, distant impacts echoed from the lower floors.
The creature had reached the building.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Something was slamming against the entrance.
Zealot continued climbing.
When he finally reached the twelfth floor, he nearly collapsed.
His apartment stood only a few meters away.
Safety.
He just needed to reach safety.
As he stumbled forward, a faint scratching sound echoed from the opposite end of the hallway.
Scrrrt...
Zealot froze.
The noise came again.
Scrrrt...
Slowly, he turned his head.
A door near the far end of the corridor stood partially open.
A blood-covered hand emerged from the darkness.
Then another.
A pale figure crawled into the hallway.
Its movements were jerky and unnatural.
Its eyes were cloudy white.
Its jaw hung loose.
Fresh blood dripped from its mouth.
The thing lifted its head.
It looked directly at him.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then the creature smiled.
A grotesque smile.
And charged.
Zealot's face lost all color.
"OH HELL NO!"
He fumbled with his keys as the monster rushed toward him.
The distance closed rapidly.
Twenty meters.
Fifteen.
Ten.
His trembling hands finally found the correct key.
The apartment door opened.
He threw himself inside.
SLAM!
The creature struck the door a second later.
BANG!
The impact shook the entire frame.
Zealot backed away.
BANG!
Another impact.
The wood groaned.
His breathing became erratic.
Outside, the creature continued slamming itself against the door.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Zealot slid down the wall.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
His mind replayed everything he had seen.
The blood.
The corpses.
The monsters.
The empty city.
Only one explanation remained.
One impossible explanation.
The world had ended.
And he was trapped in the middle of it.