When the wagon stopped, the tarp was removed, and a terrifying force lifted the Cursed upward. He opened his eyes. He was flying through an unknown dark tunnel into the abyss. On the gloomy walls, spots of blood, brain remnants, and rags of old clothes were frozen in various places. Together with the mortally ill, he was carried along an unknown current. The bodies of the mortally ill kept crashing against him. If not for the vampire's immunity to all diseases, he would already have been fatally infected.
They were carried into a large workshop, where the current disappeared abruptly, and they fell to the floor. A large sign reading "VIRUSES" hung from the ceiling. The hall was filled with unknown technological devices, and strange creatures floated in the air. Some were spherical with spikes, others serpentine, and some spider-like. But the most terrifying thing was that in each, a human face could be discerned, somehow horrifically placed inside these monsters.
The creatures flew and crawled toward the newcomers. Some of them began probing the lying bodies with their long spikes and limbs. When they reached for him, a sword appeared in the Cursed's hand, and he cut off all the limbs at once. The monstrous creatures screamed, shrieked, writhed, and lunged at him. The fight began. He delivered unceasing sword strikes that sliced the monsters to pieces. But more kept coming. They gathered from the far ends of the workshop. Some of them began shooting venom from their long stingers. The Cursed began to retreat.
At that moment, another current arose, lifting him and the bodies of the mortally ill lying nearby. They were carried down the dark tunnel further. In this mad race of death, the Cursed noticed that they were rising higher.
In the new workshop, the current vanished again, and they fell to the floor. High above, a sign read "MUTANTS." Huge creatures with humps and appendages surrounded them. Some had multiple arms and legs. Others crawled on the floor. Still others had multiple heads. Behind them were technological devices, but of a different type than in the first workshop.
The Cursed engaged in battle again so the creatures wouldn't drag him away. They reached for him with their terrifying long fingers, and he cut them off one by one. Some creatures spat slime at him; others lunged at his legs, only to meet the sword plunging into their disfigured bodies up to the hilt. Then it would spring out again and continue its grim dance of death. Some of the mortally ill were dragged by the creatures into the dark depths of the workshop, where they began doing something terrifying to them.
This continued until the current returned once more. A dark journey through the tunnels and the third workshop labeled "ZOMBIES." From the dim depths of the room, lit only by lonely lights, hordes of relentlessly approaching dead creatures advanced. Their eyes were lifeless, their faces twisted into terrifying grimaces, either from pain or hatred. They seized the last of the mortally ill with their dead hands and dragged them into the darkness. Watching this, the Cursed realized that there would be no more currents. This was their final destination. From here, he would have to break through to the end. Into the unknown darkness of the technological workshop for producing the dead.
The Cursed took a deep breath. The bodies of the dead creatures were closing in. He could not use the vampire abilities or those of the slain monsters endlessly. Each required a special toll in the form of his life energy. And the higher and more powerful the ability, the more life energy it consumed. Therefore, he had to act with careful calculation and proper strategy.
The undead had reached him.
He took a step forward, and the insane bloody massacre began. Severed hands, legs, and heads flashed through the air. Bodies were torn in two. The vampire's vision allowed him to see in the dark but still had a limited range. The Cursed tried to carve a path through the dead, dismembered bodies toward the lights burning in the workshop. From the darkness, horrific dead faces emerged with wide-open jaws and sharp long teeth. He smashed through them like an uncontrollable mad hurricane—from one lamp to another. But his life force was dwindling. Then suddenly all the lights in the workshop went out, plunging everything into impenetrable darkness.
With his flickering vampire vision, the Cursed saw numerous horrifying figures surrounding him. Their hungry eyes glowed in the dark. From here on, he would have to fight almost blind. But there were too many. The undead moved toward him. The terrifying battle continued. The undead fell to the sides without stopping, but new ones took their place. Their crooked dark hands reached grimly, triumphantly for the Cursed's face, where magical inscriptions flared. Their twisted fingers grabbed him from all sides. Numerous sharp teeth reached for his throat and face. He was to be eaten alive. Beings like him were too dangerous to remain alive. Even in zombie recycling. The undead knocked him to the floor.