Chapter 2: Baptism by Blood
The city was screaming.
Not in voices though there were plenty of those—but in everything. The buildings groaned like they felt the shift in reality. Alarms howled. Glass shattered from heatless pulses of energy as new monsters emerged from the sky like broken dreams made real.
Charles ran.
He didn't know where he was going, only that staying still meant death. His breath came in short, painful bursts as he vaulted a toppled scooter and ducked into the alley behind the lecture hall. His backpack bounced wildly until the strap snapped, spilling books across the pavement. He didn't stop for them. Knowledge wasn't going to save him now, at least not of that kind.
A roar echoed through the air—different from the first one. This one was higher-pitched, wet and shrill, like nails dragging through bone. He pressed his back against the alley wall, knuckles white around a rusted metal pipe he'd grabbed in blind panic. It was heavier than expected, slick with oil. Useless. But better than nothing.
Something skittered past the alley entrance. It wasn't human nor animal. It legs were too many, its body too low. It hissed, sniffed the air, then moved on.
Charles exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the way his arms trembled. His whole body buzzed—not just from adrenaline, but from that same wrongness in the air. The pressure. The weight. Like gravity had gained a mind and wanted to crush him.
The system windows hadn't come back. Not since they first appeared.
But the world hadn't gone back to normal either.
He moved again, slower now, ducking beneath a collapsed fence into what used to be the campus quad. Bodies were everywhere—some whole, some not. Students, security guards, professors. Most had died running. A few had died fighting. He forced himself to look away.
Near the center, someone was still alive. A girl—long black hair, uniform stained red—crawling toward him with one arm. Her other was gone. Torn off, not cleanly. Her eyes locked on his, full of fear and begging.
He ran toward her. "Hold on! I've got you—!"
A blur. A wet sound. Her lips parted, a gurgling breath escaping as her eyes rolled back.
[1]Behind her, another creature landed—smaller than the first monster, but faster. Its head was wide, mouth split vertically down the center, eyes like glossy pearls.
It looked like a spider. But wrong. Its legs were too long, joints bending in ways that made Charles' stomach churn. Its carapace shimmered darkly, like oil on water, and those eyes—too many of them—blinked in erratic rhythms.
Charles froze.
The thing sniffed the air. It hadn't seen him yet.
His fingers tightened on the pipe. Heart pounding. Thoughts screaming.
Move.
He bolted.
The creature reacted instantly, shrieking as it lunged—legs snapping open like scissor joints, mouth peeling into a vertical maw lined with twitching red tendrils.
Charles barely raised the pipe in time. The creature's claws raked across his forearm, slicing through his hoodie and biting shallow into skin. Blood welled up. He hissed and stumbled back, the pain sharp and burning.
It didn't let up. It struck again—this time from the side.
He twisted his body, letting the claws miss his throat by inches, but they tore across his ribs instead. He cried out and slammed the pipe blindly. It connected with a crunch against the thing's shoulder, but it barely flinched.
Why is a spider so damn tough?!
The Creature circled its prey, slinking low, eyes glowing faintly purple. It hissed, tongue flicking as it gauged his wounds. It was playing with him now.
Charles's breath came in gasps. Sweat stung his eyes. His grip on the pipe tightened.
"You're not killing me," he growled. "Not today." He yelled with determination in his voice.
The creature pounced.
This time, he didn't retreat. He ducked low, just barely and drove his shoulder forward, catching the creature off guard. They both went down, rolling across broken pavement. The pipe flew from his hand, clattering out of reach.
It shrieked, claws thrashing. One sliced across his cheek another caught his leg. He screamed, punched it in the jaw with a bloody fist, and scrambled forward.
His hand found the pipe.
He turned.
And with every ounce of rage, fear, and desperation he had, he drove it straight through the thing's mouth.
There was a sickening crack, a gush of black, steaming blood, and the Creature stopped moving.
Twitch.
Shudder.
Still.
An orb of light left the things body and flew towards Charles, I was too fast to even notice, he only noticed after the light got absorbed into his chest. He panicked, he started to check himself for any changes on his body, he checked his teeth, nails and even behind for a tail, but other than feeling slightly more refreshed and strangely stronger, he didn't feel any different.
After confirming no changes to himself, Charles, exhausted, collapsed backward, lungs on fire, arms shaking, vision swimming.
Ding.
A window appeared.
[You have slain Level 1Vinyling]
[Stamina +2, Health +2]
The system chimed, indifferent to the blood soaking his arm or the gash on his chest.
"What did this mean?" He didn't know but he decided to push this for when he found somewhere more hidden.
He stared at the screens as blood dripped from his chin. His arms were scratched. His hoodie was torn. His pipe was slightly bent.
But he was alive.
"Barely," he muttered, spitting blood onto the pavement.
Charles stared at the limp, broken form. He'd killed something. He hadn't thought it possible—not really. But his hands were shaking proof.
He needed more information. A Shelter, a weapon.. Anything. The quad was no longer safe.
Somewhere, a building exploded. Screams carried on the wind. The world was unravelling.
He climbed onto the lip of the ruined fountain, just high enough to see the edge of the city. Fires burned in the distance. Monsters crawled over overturned buses. Sirens wailed—some mechanical, some not.
People weren't just dying.
They were losing.
His hand gripped the pipe tighter.
He had survived, even managed to kill something.
But he wasn't a hero.
He wasn't a soldier.
He was a university student covered in blood, his and that of the creature he had just slain.
And something told him... this was only the beginning.
"She didn't even have a chance to scream. I did. And that makes me dangerous—or just lucky prey at the start of a new food chain."