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Chapter 2: Into the Horror
Lisa's eyes snapped open to a gray light seeping through the shattered windows of the magical building. Her muscles screamed in protest as she tried to rise, her limbs stiff, her hands trembling. The nightmare from the night before still clung to her: grotesque faces, gaping mouths, limbs twisted unnaturally, groans echoing through endless corridors. She shivered, clutching her jacket tightly, wishing she could simply wake back in her dorm room, the hum of the air conditioner and the distant chatter of college students comforting her.
"Lisa, wake up," Ryen's voice sliced through her panic. Calm, commanding, yet with a subtle edge of urgency. "We're moving out. You coming?"
Her throat tightened. Moving outside? Into the world she had barely begun to understand? Her stomach twisted violently. She hadn't even seen blood before today, let alone the horror that awaited beyond the building. But the whispers—persistent, guiding, almost insistent—nudged her forward. Survive… adapt… move. She nodded, swallowing her fear, her voice catching in her throat. "I… I'll try."
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The survivors assembled in tense silence. Sera darted through the corridors like a shadow, checking barricades and scanning for threats. Kaito's quiet hands reloaded his crossbow, a practiced rhythm, while Minah carried a satchel of supplies, her eyes flicking constantly to every corner. Lisa followed, her own hands trembling, energy coiling beneath her skin, a restless fire she barely controlled.
As they stepped out into the streets, the full scale of the apocalypse hit her. The city—once alive with noise and motion—was dead. Cars lay overturned, some melted into strange, twisted shapes from fire; glass crunched underfoot. Smoke rose from smoldering ruins, curling in eerie, choking tendrils. The smell—decay, burnt flesh, and something acidic—assaulted her senses. She gagged, her stomach twisting violently, forcing herself to breathe through her nose.
The streets were littered with corpses, some frozen mid-stride, others sprawled grotesquely over broken pavement. Veins and sinews protruded from torn limbs. Heads were tilted at unnatural angles, eyes wide and empty, lips pulled back in silent screams. Lisa recoiled, her stomach heaving. She had never seen anything like this in her peaceful, modern life. Her hands shook uncontrollably.
"Stay close. Quiet," Ryen whispered, his hand brushing hers in a steadying gesture.
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They moved carefully, the weight of the silence pressing down on her. Every step was measured, calculated. A sudden moan split the air—low, wet, inhuman—and Lisa froze. Her pulse thudded in her ears. Shadows shifted along the edges of the street, and a figure lurched into view. Pale skin clung to skeletal limbs, eyes voids of hunger, teeth jagged and slick with rot.
Lisa's breath caught. She wanted to scream, to run back inside, but her legs felt leaden. Before she could react, the zombie lunged at Kaito, its hands grasping, tearing flesh in a grotesque flurry. Lisa flinched, the sound of sinews ripping making her stomach churn. Her vision blurred, and the world slowed—her instincts and whispers guiding her.
Energy flared from her hands. Without thinking, she shoved her palms forward, a pulse of force hitting the zombie. It screamed—a wet, gurgling, inhuman sound—and collapsed backward, bones snapping under the unnatural push. Lisa stumbled, her heart hammering, both terrified and exhilarated by what she had just done.
"Careful!" Ryen barked, slashing at another approaching figure. Blood sprayed in grotesque arcs, the smell metallic and sharp. Lisa gagged again, her hands trembling as she backed against a wall.
Sera leapt with precision, slicing at the undead, while Minah grabbed a crowbar, cracking skulls with practiced efficiency. The alley became a whirlwind of gore, blood, and desperation. Lisa's own powers flared again, more instinctively this time, pushing one creature through a broken storefront window. Glass shattered, rain of splinters flying, but she didn't stop to marvel—the next threat was already moving toward them.
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The team continued down the street, the tension unrelenting. Every corner hid danger: shadows flickered with movement, a moan drifted from a nearby alley, debris rattled as if something were waiting. Lisa noticed the faint glimmer of a broken sign, the flicker of sunlight off glass shards, the subtle twitch of a figure's fingers in the distance. The whispers guided her attention, helping her predict, react, survive.
They entered a small grocery store, hoping to scavenge supplies. The shelves were overturned, cans dented, packaging torn. But then she saw the remnants of life left behind: half-eaten meals, a mother's abandoned purse, a diary splayed open with smeared ink. The sight tugged painfully at her heart. She crouched, hands covering her mouth, trembling.
Ryen placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "I know. I know it's… a lot. But you need to focus. We have to take what we can and move."
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Their scavenging was interrupted by movement. From the shadows of the store, a zombie burst out, its arms snapping like dry branches. Lisa screamed involuntarily, backing away. The creature latched onto a nearby shelf, dragging it down in a crashing explosion of cans and glass. She felt bile rise but forced herself to breathe. Her hands surged with energy, sending the zombie flying into a rack of produce. Vegetables scattered, blood spraying across the tiles in a grotesque pattern.
"Good, Lisa," Ryen said, eyes hard but approving. "Keep it up. But control it."
Minutes stretched into hours. Every step outside was a test: zombies hidden in corners, corpses decayed and entangled in vehicles, groans echoing like distant thunder. Lisa's fear never fully left her. She gagged at the smell, recoiled from the gore, but each encounter forced her to grow braver, faster, stronger. She realized the horrifying truth: her old life was gone. College exams, lectures, the hum of peaceful days—they were gone. This was real. This was survival.
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Even as they returned to the building, Lisa's mind couldn't settle. Her hands were sticky with sweat and the faint smear of blood she had touched. She watched the survivors with awe: Ryen calm, decisive; Sera agile and lethal; Kaito precise, calculating; Minah cautious but caring. She was learning, but the lessons were brutal, bloody, and immediate.
That night, she curled in a corner of the safe room, staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying every detail of the day: the smell, the screams, the torn sinews, the shock of wielding her power in real combat. She felt sick, terrified, but alive.
The whispers in her head persisted, guiding her: Survive… adapt… master your power…
Lisa clenched her fists, feeling the energy pulse beneath her skin. She wasn't ready, but she was learning. In a world of death, gore, and unspeakable horror, she had to become more than she had ever imagined.
From the streets of her former peaceful life to this nightmarish reality, she understood one truth: fear was her companion, but survival was her choice.
And outside, in the distance, the low growl of dozens more undead reminded her—this was only the beginning.
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