[ENG] What? My "Information Club" is Actually an All-Knowing Secret Society?
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What? My "Information Club" is Actually an All-Knowing Secret Society?
Genre : Apocalypse, Fantasy, Superpower, Action
Tag : Misunderstanding, Secret Organization, World-Freezing, Super power
Chapter 28 : Intrusion
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[Time remaining until The Great Freeze: 6 Days]
[Status: PERIMETER BREACH / UNEXPECTED CAPTIVE]
[Location: Arlen's Apartment, 4th Floor - West Jakarta]
[Time: Day 6 - 08:45 PM]
The departure of the terrifying, heavily armed anomaly and his dark gray squad did not bring the silent, isolated peace that Arlen had desperately hoped for. Instead, the horrific massacre at the intersection created a massive, extremely dangerous power vacuum in the immediate sector.
The forty-headed mutant dog pack that had previously dominated the ruined streets, acting as a lethal, insurmountable barrier for any ordinary human trying to leave their hiding spots. Had been completely eradicated in a matter of seconds.
The resulting silence did not last long. The heavy scent of fresh, steaming mutant blood and the absolute absence of the apex predators' terrifying howls served as a massive, irresistible dinner bell for the desperate.
It started with a single, hesitant crunch of boots against the black ice. Then came the frantic, metallic scraping of someone frantically digging through the frozen rubble of the destroyed convenience store.
Within an hour of the dark gray squad's departure, the intersection directly below Arlen's apartment had transformed into a chaotic, desperate scavenging ground.
Dozens of starving, freezing survivors crept out from the flooded basements, the collapsed subway tunnels, and the shattered office buildings. They realized the massive canine threat was gone, and they swarmed the area with the frantic, reckless energy of starving vultures descending upon a fresh carcass.
Arlen remained trapped inside the suffocating, pitch-black confines of his insulated micro-tent, listening to the absolute madness unfolding just a few dozen meters below his barricaded window.
The auditory input was a psychological torture all on its own. He heard the muffled, desperate arguments breaking out over frozen cans of beans. He heard the sickening, dull thuds of physical altercations as terrified humans beat each other over scraps of torn winter clothing stripped from the dead bodies the dark gray squad had left behind.
Now, Every single survivor out there was a potential, massive threat to his carefully engineered survival system. If even one of those frantic scavengers looked up and noticed a glimmer of light, a wisp of heat, or heard the slightest movement from the fourth floor, they would swarm his apartment building in a heartbeat. Desperation was a terrifyingly powerful motivator, and starving humans were infinitely more unpredictable than the mutated beasts that operated purely on biological instinct.
The agonizing, excruciating tension stretched out for hours. Arlen sat in the dark, his fingers gripping the rubberized handle of his tactical hatchet so tightly that his knuckles ached with a dull, throbbing pain. He tracked their movements entirely by sound, mapping the chaos in his mind.
Finally, as the clock slowly ticked toward midnight, the overwhelming, lethal reality of the Long Night began to violently reassert its dominance over the area. The ambient temperature, which had hovered around a brutal -15°C, began to plummet even further into the abyss of the deep freeze.
The freezing winds picked up, howling through the jagged skeletons of the ruined skyscrapers, carrying microscopic shards of black ice that scoured the exposed skin of the scavengers below.
The cold was simply too bad, for the malnourished survivors to endure any longer. The frantic sounds of digging and fighting gradually died down as the freezing humans were forced to retreat back into their dark, miserable holes to avoid freezing to death in the open street.
By midnight, the intersection was mostly silent once again, save for the whistling of the bitter wind.
Arlen slowly released his painfully tight grip on the hatchet, allowing a long, shuddering exhale to escape his lungs. The immediate crisis seemed to have passed. The high-risk period of the scavenging rush was over.
But just as he began to mentally prepare himself for the grueling task of breaking through the drywall to unit 402, a new, highly specific sound caused the blood to freeze instantly in his veins.
Crunch. Slide. Crunch.
It was the heavy, rhythmic sound of boots crushing the frozen black snow. But the sound was not coming from the street below. It was elevated. It was incredibly close.
Arlen stopped breathing entirely. He carefully shifted his weight, pressing his ear directly against the cold, plastered wall near his barricaded window.
Crunch. Pant. Crunch.
Someone was climbing the massive, sloped glacier of pulverized concrete and frozen debris that pressed directly against the exterior of his apartment building. The terrifying mountain of rubble that had transformed his fourth-floor window into a ground-level vantage point was now being used as a literal ramp by an unexpected intruder.
"Dammit, dammit, why me? Why do I have to do the solo sweep in the dark? Those cowardly bastards," a woman's voice muttered, drifting through the cracked glass and the thick layers of Gorilla Tape.
Her voice was violently shaking, her teeth chattering so loudly that Arlen could hear the distinct clicking sound over the howling wind.
"It's freezing... I can't feel my fingers anymore. If I don't find anything up here, I'm just going to lie down and let the cold take me. I swear to god, I am so done with this."
Arlen's eyes widened in the pitch-black room. His analytical mind immediately processed the tactical situation with terrifying, high-speed clarity.
She was a scout. A reluctant, terrified scout forced by her group to check the unchecked, elevated areas while the rest of them hid in safety. She was exhausted, freezing, and highly motivated to find any form of shelter or resources.
The heavy, dragging footsteps stopped directly outside his window.
Arlen could practically feel the physical presence of the woman standing just inches away from the glass. The heavy layers of plastic and tape covering his window blocked all visual access from the outside, but it also clearly telegraphed a massive, undeniable truth to anyone with a functioning brain.
"Wait..." the woman's shivering voice paused, the tone shifting from exhausted misery to sudden, sharp realization. Arlen heard the distinct sound of a gloved hand rubbing against the exterior of the glass.
"This not look like a debris. This is tape. Heavy-duty tape. It's look like Someone sealed this from the inside."
Arlen's heart hammered a frantic, desperate rhythm against his ribs. The worst-case scenario was unfolding in real-time. His camouflage had been compromised.
"Hey!" the woman suddenly banged her heavy fist against the glass, the sudden, sharp impact echoing loudly in Arlen's silent apartment.
'Is someone in there?! Hey! Open up! I know someone is in there! Please, I'm freezing to death out here! Let me in!"
Arlen did not make a single sound. He moved with silent, sliding completely out of his insulated micro-tent. He completely ignored his tactical hatchet. A bladed weapon was far too messy, too lethal for this specific variable. He needed to neutralize the threat without creating a massive blood trail or a fatal escalation.
He reached into his survival cache and pulled out a handful of thick, heavy-duty industrial zip ties and a fresh roll of black Gorilla Tape. He pressed his back tightly against the wall right beside the window, hiding in the absolute blind spot of the frame, waiting in the freezing darkness like a coiled spring.
"Fine! If you won't open it, I'll open it myself!" the woman screamed, her desperation completely overriding any sense of caution or basic morality. She was freezing to death, and a sealed room meant trapped heat and potential supplies.
SMASH!
The heavy, blunt end of a scavenged metal pipe shattered the cracked glass pane completely.
The brutal, -15°C wind instantly roared into Arlen's living room, carrying a violently cold spray of black snow and razor-sharp glass shards across the ceramic tiles.
The sudden, massive drop in temperature was physically agonizing, but Arlen completely ignored the pain.
The woman aggressively ripped through the layers of thick construction plastic and Gorilla Tape, violently tearing down Arlen's meticulous thermal seal. She hauled her upper body through the broken window frame, panting heavily, her eyes wide and frantic as she tumbled forward into the pitch-black apartment.
The exact millisecond her heavy boots cleared the window sill and hit the floor tiles, Arlen struck.
He did not hesitate. He lunged out from the blinding darkness with the explosive, desperate kinetic energy of a man fighting for his absolute survival. He slammed his entire body weight directly into her side, tackling her violently before she could even process the fact that the room was occupied.
The woman let out a sharp, breathless gasp as the massive physical impact knocked the wind entirely out of her lungs. They crashed heavily onto the hard ceramic floor, the metal pipe clattering uselessly away into the darkness.
Arlen immediately scrambled to gain the dominant, superior position. He forced her aggressively onto her stomach, planting his heavy knee squarely into the center of her lower back with enough crushing pressure to completely pin her spine against the floor without snapping it.
The woman panicked violently, thrashing and kicking like a trapped, desperate animal. She opened her mouth, pulling in a massive gulp of freezing air, entirely prepared to unleash a deafening, high-pitched scream that would undoubtedly alert every single survivor and hidden mutant in a three-block radius.
Arlen reacted with terrifying, brutal efficiency. He slammed his heavy, gloved left hand directly over her mouth and nose, completely smothering the scream before it could even leave her throat. The sound died as a muffled, pathetic whimper against his palm.
"Do not make a single sound. If you scream, the next thing is we both will die," Arlen hissed, his voice a low, dangerous, and incredibly calm rasp directly next to her ear.
He did not wait for her to comprehend the threat. Operating entirely on pure, mechanical survival instinct, Arlen used his free right hand to aggressively yank her left arm backward, twisting it painfully up toward her shoulder blades. He secured the thick industrial zip tie around her left wrist, then brutally forced her frantically struggling right arm to meet it. He pulled the plastic strip tight with a sharp, violent zip, securely binding her hands behind her back.
The woman continued to thrash wildly beneath him, tears of absolute, profound terror streaming down her frozen cheeks. She was completely convinced that she had just broken into the lair of a psychopathic murderer, a monster hiding in the dark waiting to butcher her.
Arlen completely ignored her frantic, muffled crying. He rapidly unspooled a long strip of the heavy-duty Gorilla Tape using his teeth and his free hand. He pulled his gloved hand away from her mouth for a fraction of a second, instantly slapping the thick, highly adhesive black tape directly over her lips, sealing her mouth completely shut.
He secured a second strip of tape over the first, ensuring the gag was completely immovable.
The physical struggle was over in less than thirty seconds. The intruder was entirely neutralized, pinned to the floor, her hands securely bound, and her voice completely silenced.
However, the massive, catastrophic danger was far from over.
The broken window was actively leaking the brutal, sub-zero atmosphere directly into the apartment. The temperature in the living room was plummeting at a terrifying rate.
Arlen immediately rolled off the terrified woman, springing to his feet. He abandoned his captive on the floor, rushing frantically toward the shattered window frame. He grabbed the torn, flapping sheets of construction plastic, desperately pulling them back across the gaping hole.
His hands moved with speed, ripping long strips of Gorilla Tape and aggressively sealing the edges back against the concrete walls. He layered the plastic thickly, fighting against the howling wind, patching the massive breach until the freezing draft was finally cut off.
He stood before the newly repaired window, his chest heaving violently, his breath fogging the dark room in thick, white plumes of exhaustion. He had successfully contained the thermal leak, but his heart was still hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
He turned around slowly, looking down at the floor.
The woman was lying on her side, her knees pulled tightly up to her chest in a defensive, fetal position.
The ambient light filtering, illuminating her wide, terrified eyes. She was staring up at Arlen as if he were the devil himself, her entire body shaking violently from a mixture of the freezing temperature and absolute fear.
Arlen stood completely still in the dark, taking a long, deep breath to forcibly lower his elevated heart rate. He needed to establish absolute control over this highly volatile variable. He needed her to understand the mechanics of this encounter, not through the lens of a horror movie, but through the cold, pragmatic logic of absolute survival.
He walked slowly toward her, his heavy boots clicking softly against the tiles. He crouched down just a few feet away, maintaining a safe, calculated distance, ensuring he was not looming over her like a predator.
He did not hold a weapon. He simply rested his forearms on his knees, looking directly into her terrified, tear-filled eyes.
"I am going to speak to you very clearly, and I need you to listen with your brain calmed down," Arlen began, his voice surprisingly calm, steady, and entirely devoid of any malicious intent. The heavy, expressive tone carried the weight of a man who was simply trying to navigate an impossible nightmare.
"I am not a murderer. Nor I am a monster. And I take absolutely zero pleasure in tying you up and throwing you to the floor."
The woman continued to tremble, her muffled, frantic breathing hitching behind the thick layers of black tape. She did not look convinced.
"You smashed my window," Arlen continued, his tone remaining clinical but profoundly serious, outlining the absolute reality of their situation.
"And that's make You a massive, critical threat to my life, and I neutralized you to ensure that neither of us was torn apart by any problem means."
Arlen watched her eyes closely. He needed to see the blind panic recede. He needed the sheer, terrifying logic of his words to penetrate her fear.
"I operate entirely on a very simple rule of survival, it's loss and revenue," Arlen explained, deliberately using his cold, calculating terminology to establish the boundaries of their interaction.
"Killing you yields absolutely zero revenue. It only brings unnecessary complications, a rotting corpse in my living room, and probable hostiles group comes at me. However, keeping you tied up and terrified also yields zero revenue. It requires me to expend energy monitoring you."
The woman's frantic trembling began to slow down just a fraction. The absolute, bizarre pragmatism of Arlen's speech was incredibly confusing, but it did not sound like the crazed, violent rambling of a psychopath preparing for a slaughter. It sounded like a terrifyingly practical strategist ensure everythings going well.
Arlen leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto hers with a serious, unwavering intensity.
"I am going to offer you a very simple, highly beneficial transaction," Arlen proposed, his voice lowering into a quiet, reassuring murmur.
"I am going to finish securing my perimeter. Once I am absolutely, one hundred percent certain that you are calm, that your group is not climbing that debris ramp to ambush me, and that you are no longer a threat to my safety, I will gladly cut those zip ties off your wrists."
The woman's eyes widened slightly in the dark, a faint, desperate glimmer of hope breaking through the sheer terror.
"And I will not just release you," Arlen added, sweetening the deal to ensure absolute compliance. He knew that desperate people needed a tangible, physical incentive to remain obedient.
"I am sitting on a stable supply of calories and thermal resources. If you cooperate, if you remain absolutely silent and follow my instructions, I will compensate you for this rough treatment. I will give you a hot meal. I will give you heavy winter clothing. And when the sun rises and the streets are clear, I will let you walk out of that door entirely unharmed."
Arlen paused, letting the heavy, detailed promise hang in the freezing air between them.
"Do you understand the terms of this arrangement?" Arlen asked, his tone demanding a clear, logical acknowledgment.
"If you understand, and if you promise not to scream the second I remove that tape, nod your head slowly."
The woman stared at him for a long, agonizing moment in the dark.
She analyzed the cold, practical sincerity in his eyes. She felt the freezing air biting at her exposed skin, and she remembered the terrifying, empty abyss of the ruined streets outside. She was completely at his mercy, but the man crouching before her was offering her the exact resources she had been desperate enough to break a window for.
Slowly, carefully, the woman nodded her head.
Arlen let out a slow, quiet breath of relief. He had successfully de-escalated a massive, potentially fatal perimeter breach using pure logic and the leverage of hoarded resources.
"Good," Arlen said softly, standing up from his crouched position.
"We are going to sit here in the dark for a little while longer to let the temperature stabilize. Welcome to Room 404. Try to make yourself comfortable."
As Arlen turned around to retrieve a heavy fleece blanket to throw over his new, unexpected guest, he could not help but feel a profound, exhausting headache forming behind his eyes. He had wanted to remain an absolute, invisible ghost.
Instead, he had just got a massive, unpredictable human variable directly into the heart of his sanctuary.
The Long Night was violently forcing him to adapt, and Arlen was rapidly running out of empty space to hide.
›› To Be Continue ‹‹
—KS