Sid leaned back, his phone weighed heavy in his hand, every new buzz tightening his chest. He didn't know if he wanted to block her, call her bluff, or throw the damn thing across the room.
The phone buzzed again in his palm.
Anna: "I know you're looking at the picture. I can see you online."
Attached was another photo, this time a close-up of her breasts, her fingers teasingly circling one hardened nipple. Sid felt nothing, his cock remaining flaccid despite the explicit content.
"Fuck."
He muttered, running a hand through his hair. He didn't understand why he wasn't reacting physically to Anna's nudes. Any other guy would be jumping at the chance to sexting with a famous influencer.
Anna: "You're so quiet. Cat got your tongue? Or maybe you're too busy imagining what else I can do with my tongue…"
A third photo arrived, showcasing Anna on her knees, biting her lower lip suggestively.
Anna: "You really not gonna say anything?"
"Did I break you?"
"Or… is it true what people are saying?"
"Is it the zombies that do it for you?"
Sid's breath caught in his throat. He sat up sharply, the phone clenched tight in his hand. His jaw ticked, eyes locked on her words like they were flashing in neon.
"That's not funny…"
But it was everywhere now. People joking. People theorizing. People assuming. Memes. Tweets. Videos. And now this, Anna teasing like she believed it too.
Sid's eyes stinging as he read Anna's messages. His lack of arousal was starting to frustrate him. He set his phone down and leaned back, closing his eyes.
"You testing me, huh? I swear, when this cock finally loads in, it's gonna be like equipping a legendary weapon. Nine inches, maxed stats, full durability. You better be high-level to handle this."
His fingers trembled. He didn't know if it was anger, curiosity, or something darker that guided him, but his thumbs moved before he could think.
The message delivered.
Sid: "Your place?"
The three little dots appeared almost instantly. She was typing.
The reply came instantly.
Anna: [Address Attached]
Sid stared at the screen, his lips parting just slightly. No hesitation. No teasing. Just her address, right there, like she'd been waiting for him to ask all along.
He didn't give himself time to second-guess. He yanked his jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. The hood came up over his head, shadowing his face, cutting him off from the light of his monitor.
He reached for the dark bottle sitting on the corner of his desk. His fingers hesitated on it for only a second before twisting the cap. A handful of tablets rattled into his palm. Without counting, without even grabbing water, he threw them back into his mouth. His throat burned as he forced them down dry, his jaw clenching until he swallowed the last bitter taste.
The bottle went into his cargo pants' pocket. He patted it once as if making sure the weight was really there.
"Alright, no turning back now."
He grabbed his kit from the shelf, chalk for his hands, gloves with half-torn palms, knee wraps, and an old pair of lightweight sneakers worn thin. Stuff that any other person would see as junk, but to him, it was survival gear. He strapped them on quickly, adjusting and tugging until every piece felt snug.
"Let's see how bad this fucks me up."
The apartment door slammed behind him, and the echo trailed through the empty hallways as he sprinted toward the stairs.
Sid hit the streets fast, his sneakers barely touching the ground before he vaulted over a rusted railing.
The city was alive under the neon lights. Cars crawled below, horns cutting through the night, while giant billboards flickered over empty rooftops. Sid didn't stop to breathe.
He sprinted, climbed, and jumped, desperate to burn away the thought that people were calling him something he couldn't accept.
"No girl alive is making my heart beat."
"#SidTheNecrophilia"
The words looped in his head, louder with every step.
Anna: "Or… is it true what people are saying?"
"Is it the zombies that do it for you?"
His voice broke as he pushed forward, scaling another rooftop like it could save him. But the harder he ran, the sharper the truth cut back.
"Fuck… no. I'm not—"
But every time his hand shook. Every time his heart raced. Every time he couldn't look away. From every time he froze from the zombie bride he met up close in the game.
"What the hell is happening to me?"
His body moved on instinct, each step intense, faster. He vaulted walls, scaled ledge, gripped rooftops until his fingers ached.
His shadow flew over the skyline as if the city itself was a playground. The wind hit his face, sweat stung his eyes, and yet he kept going.
For Sid, speed was survival, and every leap made him feel like he was proving something to the world, to himself, and most of all, to Anna.
Halfway there, the pain slammed into him. His right knee gave out mid-step, forcing him to crash hard against a rooftop.
He groaned, clutching his leg as the throb pulsed deep, hot, and sharp. The memory came uninvited, like a cruel echo… sitting in a clinic, the doctor shaking his head with cold finality.
"If you don't quit now, you won't be walking in a few years. That knee's finished. Parkour is finished."
Sid gritted his teeth and shoved the flashback away.
"Not finished. Not yet."
He fumbled in his cargo pants, pulling out the bottle. The faint label caught the neon light… Painkillers. Without thinking, he twisted the cap, dumped more into his palm, and swallowed them dry.
His throat burned again, but the fire in his chest burned hotter. He forced himself up, leg screaming, but his body obeyed.
He pushed harder than before, climbing faster, ignoring the grind of bone with every jump. The world below blurred, headlights smearing like paint. Sirens wailed far off, a rhythm under his pounding heart.
The city glowed around him, so alive, so mercilessly bright, and all he could think was that he couldn't stop, not now. Not when Anna had sent the address like a challenge.
"They think I'm broken. They think I'm sick. That doctor thinks he's figured me out. The haters think they know me. And Anna? She thinks she can call me out like the rest. But I'll show her. I'll show all of them."
Finally, he landed on the rooftop across from her apartment. His chest rose and fell, the ache in his knee threatening to collapse him. He pulled his phone out, thumbs trembling as he typed.
Sid: "I'm here."