She swung.
The first zombie's skull cracked with a sickening thud as she connected, the impact reverberating up her arms. It staggered back, but before she could land another blow, another figure lurched from the darkness. Its fingers scraped against her shoulder, a split-second too close.
Killa swore under her breath and twisted away, her body barely dodging the rotting hand reaching for her neck. Her knife came up with a practiced motion, slashing across the zombie's throat in one clean arc. The creature's body went limp almost instantly, its decayed flesh falling away in chunks as it crumpled to the ground.
But there was no time to celebrate the kill.
More footsteps. More dragging, rasping, unnatural sounds. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself forward, toward the apartment door.
It creaked open just as another zombie lunged at her side. She reacted on instinct, twisting her body to avoid the full force of the attack, but its teeth still grazed her coat, leaving a disgusting trail of slime in its wake.
Shit!
She jammed her elbow into its chest, using the momentum to shove it backward into the hallway. Another two zombies rounded the corner, claws outstretched, their low growls becoming louder.
The apartment door—barely cracked open—was now in front of her.
With a burst of adrenaline, Killa slammed her body into it, forcing it wide enough for her to slip through. She didn't look back, didn't wait to see how many were following. Her hand slammed against the door frame, yanking it shut just in time as the first of the zombies thudded against it.
Inside, the apartment was dim. A lone light flickered from a lamp near the hallway. The air was stale, thick with the metallic tang of blood, the same scent she'd been breathing all day. She spun around to catch her breath, finally letting the weight of the fight settle on her.
But the apartment wasn't empty.
A pair of wide eyes stared at her from the shadows of the living room.
A woman, probably in her early thirties, was crouched in the corner, clutching her knees to her chest. Her eyes were frantic, but there was no scream. No immediate reaction. Just fear.
Killa didn't move at first. She took a steadying breath, hands still trembling from the battle outside. Then, cautiously, she let her bat rest against the wall.
"Are you... alone?" Killa asked, voice hoarse.
The woman blinked rapidly as if waking from a daze. Her lips parted, but no words came out at first. Then she nodded weakly, her face pale under the dim light.
Killa's eyes flickered toward the door she'd just slammed shut. She could hear the zombies outside, relentless and hammering against it.
The woman's gaze drifted to Killa's weapons, the bat, the knife, the bloodstained coat. Then she looked at Killa, as though seeing her for the first time. A flash of recognition flickered in her eyes, followed by hesitation.
"You... you're not like them," the woman whispered.
Killa didn't bother responding. She slumped against the wall, her bat still gripped tightly in her hands, but her arms trembling with exhaustion.
Call it whatever you want but for some reason the woman–Lily Brown,as she had introduced herself had began recounting her life story to Killa who by the way didn't ask a thing. She of course was forced to listen and from what she could gather the woman had nothing to cry about.
I mean yeah,we get it. You were happy,had a family,a stable job. Then all of a sudden,your husband cheated and you got divorced. Now you're left with the responsibility of your two kids,whom you left with your grandparents. Just as you were trying to get the hang of things—baam,Apocalypse; and now you're scared and worried.
"I don't know what to do," Lily murmured, her voice thick with tears. She wiped her eyes, trying to catch her breath. "I'm so scared. I just— I don't know what's happening. My kids... my family..."
Killa couldn't take the whole thing anymore so she stretched out towards Lily,she handed out a black ring. Lily sniffed as she took it.
"What's this?" She asked as she took a look at the ring,engraved in it were the words 'Void High'.
"Take it as a thank you gift",Killa began as she stretched against the door and closed her eyes as she continued, "It's a portal that leads to my school. If you ever want to learn how to protect and defend yourself, use it. It can also come in handy when you are in trouble."
Vee had told her that the system would randomly produce portals for people to come in,but as the Owner she could hand out 'invites' as well.
Lily stared at the black ring on her finger, turning it slightly so the etched words caught the dim light: Void High. The metal was warm against her skin.
"A school…?" she murmured under her breath, glancing toward Killa again.
But the girl wasn't looking at her. She had leaned back against the door, arms folded, eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell steadily, like she was sleeping—though Lily doubted she actually was.
Lily hesitated. The weight of the ring on her finger was oddly reassuring, like it recognized her fear and offered something in return. But what exactly? A portal? A school that taught people to survive this new, broken world? Was this girl… mad? Or worse—was she speaking the truth?
She opened her mouth to ask—to say please, to say take me with you, or help me find my kids—but the words never made it out. One look at Killa's face, serene and unreadable, and she swallowed them down.
Instead, Lily shifted her eyes back to the ring and whispered, more to herself than anyone else, "Thank you."
Killa didn't respond. Her eyes remained shut, body unmoving.
Lily exhaled slowly and stood, careful not to disturb the quiet that now hung between them. She walked back into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water with steady hands, her thoughts spinning. She would hang on for a few more days,then she would use it,by then no matter the result,she would readily accept it.
An hour passed. The apartment had fallen into silence, broken only by the faint ticking of a wall clock and Lily's occasional movements in the kitchen. Killa hadn't spoken another word. She sat by the door, head tilted back against the wood, eyes closed but never truly asleep. Her ears stayed sharp, counting the footsteps outside until there were none.
When she finally stirred, it was with a quiet breath and a fluid motion. She rose to her feet, bat in hand, knives strapped at her sides. The exhaustion still lingered in her limbs, but it was dulled now—pushed aside by instinct and necessity.
"I'll head out now," Killa said softly.
Lily looked up from where she was seated by the table, nursing the same half-empty glass of water. Her eyes flickered with concern, but she nodded. "Be careful."
Killa gave the smallest of nods and stepped toward the door. Her hand paused on the handle for a moment—then she turned slightly, just enough to glance back at Lily.
"Just throw the ring," she whispered.
Lily blinked. "What?"
Killa didn't repeat herself. She simply turned the knob and slipped out into the corridor, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
The hallway was quiet now. The scent of rotting flesh still clung to the air, but the floor had stilled—no more dragging feet, no low groans.
Twenty-five floors stood between her and the ground level, each potentially infested. That was fine.
The system's voice echoed in her mind as if on cue.
[Current Points: 1,100 / 3,000]
She needed more.
The stairwell ahead was shrouded in dim light, some emergency bulbs flickering overhead. Blood coated the railing. Her boots crunched faintly on shards of glass as she moved downward to the twenty-fourth floor. She paused at the landing. A heavy dragging noise echoed beyond the stairwell door.
One breath.
She pushed it open.
There were five of them this time—two hunched figures near the elevators, one slumped against a vending machine, and two more limping down the hallway.
She didn't hesitate.
Killa rushed the nearest one, her bat arcing with brutal precision. Bone cracked. The zombie's head snapped back violently before it collapsed. The one beside it turned too late—she drove a knife through its temple before yanking it free with practiced force.
The other three had taken notice now. They came at her in a clumsy, lumbering gait—but numbers could overwhelm, even with their slow pace.
She shifted backward, leading them into a narrow hallway between two apartments. One tried to lunge. She ducked low and slammed her shoulder into its torso, knocking it off balance. Her bat followed immediately, crushing its head with a sickening crunch.
The remaining two came from either side now. She spun between them, the hem of her coat whipping through the air, and landed a sharp strike to one's kneecap—then slit its throat before whirling on the last.
It swiped at her wildly.
Killa stepped into its space, took the hit to her shoulder, and buried her knife in its eye.
The hunt continued,the more she killed the more faster she became. This time around she ignored whoever she saw staring out their windows or doors.
Finally the system chimed
Points [ 3000/3000]
Even at that she kept moving on,some extra points wouldn't hurt either way. After spending few more hours at it she had Vee take her back to the school.
_________
Lucian paced the length of his suite, fingers curled tightly around his phone. No signal. Again. He'd been trying to reach Killa for days, but every call ended in silence. The moment he'd landed in Johannesburg, he knew something was wrong. The news was already flooded with footage from Los Angeles—streets overrun, buildings burning, emergency broadcasts looping chaos. His heart had dropped the instant he saw it.
He hadn't even left the airport before trying to call her. Nothing.
Now, a week later, the storm outside had reached South Africa. The city was beginning to unravel. Not completely—not yet—but the panic had started creeping in like smoke under a door. People whispered in corners. Food runs were more frantic. Law enforcement was stretched thin. And inside his family's hotel, things were teetering.
The Mokoena Hotel wasn't flashy, but it was elegant in its own right. Built like a fortress and nestled between the hills of Johannesburg, it had always been a safe haven for travelers. It could host nearly a thousand guests at full capacity. But right now, it was on lockdown.
Lucian's parents, both retired military, had tried to control the situation with his younger sister's help, but the guests hadn't listened—at least not until he arrived.
He immediately took over, Doors were barred. Windows reinforced. Common areas cleared. No one came in or out unless Lucian allowed it. Anyone who had problems with his rules could glady leave.
Some used the 'you can't treat customers Like this' amd Lucian didn't hesitate to throw the money to their faces and send them packing. One or two examples were enough to keep the others quiet.
The most important thing right now was food. Water and electricity were still available,he wasn't that worried about water since the hotel was by the sea. Yes,not really safe to drink but it was better than nothing.
Lucian stood by the large window of his family's hotel, staring out at the calm sea brushing against the shore.
The government had contacted him three days ago.
"Major General Lucian Mokoena," the official had said, tone clipped and professional. "Your discharge was premature. Under the circumstances, we're reopening files. The country needs its tacticians. Your record... speaks volumes."
Lucian had remained silent,he knew what they were asking of him but he had made the decision two years ago and it will be the same even now,despite the circumstances. Still he let the official continue.
"You know what's out there. We're offering full reinstatement, access to resources, command over a joint unit."
He sighed. "I'm not going back into the chain. I'm staying here. I'll run this place like a base. You can send supplies and men, but this is where I draw my line."
The line went quiet for a beat. Then the officer spoke again. "Location checks out. Hidden enough. If you're serious, you'll have troops in three days."
The call ended. Lucian turned from the window and sat down, rubbing his temples. His mind wandered again to her.
Killa.
He'd sent message after message, desperate for any sign that she was still alive. All unanswered. Until now.
His phone vibrated on the table.
He snatched it up, expecting another status update or call from the military, but the name on the screen made his breath catch.
Killa.
One message.
Don't. I will find you.
Four words.No context. But they hit harder than any reassurance.
Lucian stared at the screen, then slowly leaned back into the chair, exhaling for the first time in hours. That was her.She might not have had combat training, but if there was one thing Killa had—it was willpower and imagination.
And in a world falling apart, maybe that was enough.