Darkness swallowed the morgue whole.
Adrian's breath came in sharp, controlled bursts as the freezer door groaned under another impact. Beside him, Dr. Cho's fingers dug into his arm—her pulse a frantic bird against his skin.
"They'll hear us if we run," she whispered.
The System pulsed in response:
Another thud. The freezer latch bent.
Adrian didn't waste time debating, they needed to move. He grabbed Cho's wrist and moved, dragging her toward the stairwell. Behind them, metal shrieked as the first Walker forced its way through the gap.
The stairwell door was heavier than he remembered, his wounded arm screaming as he shoulder-checked it open. The fluorescent emergency lights flickered weakly, casting jagged shadows up the concrete steps.
"Go!" Adrian shoved Cho ahead of him, turning just in time to see the first Walker stumble into the hallway. It was a nurse—or had been. Her scrubs were stiff with old blood, one eye socket hollow where an autopsy probe still protruded.
The IV stand was slick in his grip. He swung aiming for the head.
Crack.
The Walker's jaw dislocated, but it didn't fall. Behind it, three more figures emerged from the morgue, their movements jerky but accelerating as they warmed.
Adrian didn't have time to adjust. He drove the stand forward like a spear, feeling cartilage give way as it punched through the lead Walker's eye.
"Adrian!" Cho's voice was raw with panic from the stairs above.
He yanked the stand free, black fluid spattering the steps as he turned to run.
Then he heard it.
A wet, ripping sound—followed by a scream.
Cho had made it to the second-floor landing when her foot caught on a discarded lab coat.
Adrian saw it happen in slow motion:
Her ankle twisted.
Her arms windmilled.
And then she was falling—tumbling—down the next flight of stairs, her body striking the concrete edges with sickening precision. The bone saw clattered away, skittering into the darkness below.
By the time Adrian reached her, Cho's neck was bent at an impossible angle. Her breath came in wet, choking gasps, her fingers twitching against the railing, a grotesque parody of the human she had been less than a minute ago.
» MEDICAL ANALYSIS
» CERVICAL FRACTURE (C1-C3)
» SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 0.3%
» TIME TO DEATH: 02:17 MINUTES
Adrian's hands hovered uselessly, he felt helpless. He knew those numbers. Knew what they meant.
Cho's lips moved, forming silent words. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth.
Above them, the stairwell door burst open.
The Walkers had reached the stairs.
Adrian's fingers curled into fists.
» PRIORITY ALERT
» ESCAPE ROUTE: THIRD FLOOR LOUNGE (82% SAFETY RATING)
He took one last look at Cho—at the woman who could have been an ally in this damned world—and ran.
Her screams seemed to follow him until they stopped, and the only sound remaining was his footsteps as he ran.
The lounge door was locked.
Adrian didn't hesitate. He kicked it just below the handle, feeling the wood splinter on the third impact. The room beyond was blessedly empty—a staff break area with couches, a kitchenette, and most importantly, no windows.
He barricaded the door with a heavy conference table, then collapsed against the nearest wall, his bitten arm throbbing in time with his heartbeat.
» SYSTEM ALERT
» PATHOGEN SUPPRESSION AT 61%
» ANTIBIOTIC REQUIREMENT: CRITICAL
No time to rest, Adrian forced himself upright, scanning the room. The lounge was a time capsule—abandoned mid-shift. A half-eaten sandwich sat on the counter, now moldy. Coffee cups lined the sink.
And then he saw it.
A first-aid cabinet, its glass front smashed but contents mostly intact.
Adrian fell to his knees in front of it, hands shaking as he grabbed packets of antibiotics, antiseptic wipes, and—thank god—a suture kit.
» MEDICAL SUPPLIES ACQUIRED
» TREATMENT OPTIONS:
BROAD-SPECTRUM ANTIBIOTICS (EFFICACY: 89%)
TOPICAL DISINFECTANT (INFECTION RISK REDUCTION: 43%)
SUTURE APPLICATION (BLOOD LOSS MITIGATION: 76%)
Adrian didn't wait. He tore open the antibiotic packet with his teeth and dry-swallowed the pills. Antiseptic burned into the bite wound, bleaching his vision white—then pain lanced through him, like a red-hot brand searing his forearm, but he held steady, stitching the torn flesh with hands that grew steadier with each loop.
» SKILL PROGRESS
» BASIC MEDICINE: LVL 1 → LVL 2 (27/200 XP)
Food came next. The staff fridge yielded expired yogurt, a block of cheese (questionable), and—jackpot—a six-pack of Ensure. He drank two in rapid succession, feeling the calories hit his system like a jumpstart.
» CALORIC INTAKE: 720/1200
» METABOLIC PROCESSING…
The System hummed as his body absorbed the nutrients, diverting energy to the infection fight. His veins darkened momentarily—a visible ripple beneath his skin—before fading.
With the immediate threats handled, Adrian finally had time to think.
He sat cross-legged on a couch, his IV stand across his knees, and focused inward.
» SYSTEM STATUS: STABLE
» USER CONDITION: CRITICAL BUT IMPROVING
» CURRENT OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE NIGHT 1
The golden text flickered, but now Adrian noticed layers to it. Submenus. Options. He concentrated, and new information unfolded:
STAT DISTRIBUTION LOG
STR 3.1 (+0.1 from melee combat)
END 3.0 (Degrading -0.05 from blood loss)
PER 4.0 (+0.2 from environmental awareness)
SKILL CATALOG
Improvised Weapons Lv.1 (34/100 XP)
Blunt Weapons Lv.1 (11/100 XP)
Basic Medicine Lv.2 (27/200 XP)
HIDDEN METRICS
Caloric Reserve: 58%
Sleep Debt: Critical
Stress Level: 89% (Near Breakdown)
Adrian exhaled slowly. The System wasn't just tracking him—it was adapting to him.
Which meant he could adapt right back.
He needed a plan—anything to keep him occupied, a goal to strive toward.
He grabbed a marker from the counter and began writing on the lounge's whiteboard:
PHASE 1: IMMEDIATE SURVIVAL (NEXT 24 HOURS)
Secure real weapons (the IV stand won't cut it)
Raise STR to 4 (minimum for sustained combat)
Boost Medicine to Lv.3 (suture proficiency)
PHASE 2: LOOTING PRIORITIES
Antibiotics
Firearm + ammo
Durable clothing
PHASE 3: LONG-TERM DEVELOPMENT
Locate safe zone (hospital roof?)
Scout for survivors (carefully)
Unlock Stealth or Tactics skills
The System pinged in approval:
» TACTICAL PLANNING RECOGNIZED
» INT +0.1 (ANALYTICAL PROCESSING)
Adrian smirked. "So it rewards strategy."
He tested a theory, visualizing a combat scenario. Immediately, the System projected:
» SIMULATED ENGAGEMENT
» VS. 3 WALKERS (FRESH)
» SUCCESS RATE: 41% (IMPROVE AGI FOR DODGE EFFICIENCY)
"Good to know."
Exhaustion hit like a truck.
Adrian dragged another couch against the barricaded door for safety, then set up a makeshift bed in the corner—lines of sight on all entry points, IV stand within reach.
He forced himself to eat the rest of the cheese (risking food poisoning beat starvation) and drank another Ensure.
» CALORIC INTAKE: 1240/1200
» UPGRADES RESUMING…
Pain lanced through his muscles as STR ticked to 3.2. His bones felt heavier, denser. The System's cold voice kept him grounded:
» PHYSICAL REINFORCEMENT: 12% COMPLETE
» ESTIMATED DURATION: 6 HOURS
Adrian lay back, gripping his IV stand like a lifeline. Beyond the barricade, the hospital groaned—a living thing digesting its dead.
Somewhere, Cho's reanimated corpse shambled through the halls.
Somewhere, the morgue Walkers still hunted.
But for now—for tonight—he was safe.
Adrian closed his eyes, letting the System's hum lull him into the first true sleep since waking in this nightmare.
Tomorrow, the real work began.