The Many Faced Man

Coming to terms with the fact that I was doomed to being forever single now, I suppressed the feeling of loss over my imaginary future girlfriend.

'I should at least survive first, maybe I can grow strong enough to where my looks won't matter.. Abilities are what really matter for men anyways, right?! I really would like to believe that is true...'

My entire body aching, I walked over and picked up my club. Picking it up, I tried to give it a few practice swings. And, sure enough, the results were terrible.

My body had been truly and thoroughly ravaged by that death energy. My muscles were akin to a young lass that had her first time with huge and rather savage man.

The benefits might have been great, after all my dark energy sensing had qualitative changes, but dear lord was the aftermath devastating!

The fact that I had the ability to walk and swing my club was a miracle in itself. My strength was nowhere near what it was before this incident, and even that was barely sufficient to do battle with zombies.

Maybe I could take a few zombies with the club still if I was lucky, but it was really not very reliable to begin with. Even less so now. I would certainly have to find a new method to fight now, or I was going to be destined for an early grave.

By using my new heightened sense of death qi, it was easy to sense where the nearby zombies were. Through the energy vision of a good Necromancer, each zombie would be akin to a light bulb, illuminating it's surroundings.

At the very least, in exchange for muscular strength, I would never again accidentally bump into a zombie around a corner.

Looking about, I could see that most all the Zombies had now gathered in the lower floors. Albeit, a select few of the stronger zombies still remained on the top floor. Loosely guarding the stairway and doors leading to the roof.

Determining it was safe on the current floor I was on, I went searching through some of the 14th floor and finally found a good ranged weapon I could still use.

Scrounging about in a few apartments I eventually found a good ol' recurve bow.

Together with it was a good 35 pack of barbed arrows meant for hunting, and another 15 meant for training. There were even two quivers for it.

According to the label on it, it was only a 30lb bow, so it was rather unlikely for it to have much penetrating power. Fortunately, that also meant I was actually able to shoot it, despite my weakened body.

I had a strange sense of confidence in my ability to use the bow now, my mind and perception had a sharp difference from how it was before.

I instinctually felt my coordination had experienced an upgrade, even my thoughts felt swifter. When moving about, I even felt I was moving slower than I truly was, as though reality itself had slowed around me. It would seem like my body was too weak for my current mind, but still, only just a little.

Even then, a minute change in the way you see and perceive the world will feel significant no matter how small. I felt it was even more significant as I took out the bow, aiming a training arrow at a vase on the table.

I shot the arrow, it flew across the room.. and over the vase.

It hit the wall and bounced off, only leaving a bit of an imprint on the drywall.

Archery is something you do based mostly off of instinct, so this is to be expected, I had never even truly practiced before. I only had experience with guns, not bows.

But in that one shot I felt many more minute changes than I normally should have, in my muscles, in the way I looked at my target, in the alignment of my body and the bow.

In just one shot I could instinctually tell how I need to change them in order to get closer to the target.

Making minute adjustments, I made progress over the span of an hour from shooting over and over again. Comparing and remembering the feeling of each shot, I gained a sense of how they should be done, how my shooting needed to change with each minute shift of stance to hit where I willed it.

Now, I could easily pin-point shoot. And due to my newly developed dynamic senses, it would be far easier to predict movements.

I would of course still prefer my old M16, and I really wish I had an M240B or M249. If I were to use those to mow down zombies, I could clear this place in no time. I may not have used to shoot bows, and I may not have been the best marksman, but I was still properly trained and especially good with Machine Guns like the M249.

I do not think picking up the basics of a new combat skill is a waste of time regardless, this is the apocalypse after all.

With that bit of practice I felt confident in my fighting ability again, I felt it was time to move again, and getting the zombies upstairs seemed like it would be easier than dealing with the horde that swarmed the downstairs.

So, I figured I would try to deal with them first. See if I can find the people supposedly still stuck up on that roof.

I moved up the stairs quickly, encroaching on the top floor of the building.

When I stepped onto the top floor I saw the few zombies remaining with my own eyes. All of them were the big Hulk-type zombies, each of the big lugs lumbering about and minding their own business, letting off zombie m.o.a.ns and groans sporadically.

I was ready for them, with my new hunting arrows I could bring these guys down much more easily. Especially since the dust would cloak me from them. In the case they did notice me, they were still spread enough I was confident to escape.

Creeping just out of sight, still in the stairwell, I take aim with my bow. I regulate my breathing, aim(sorta), and take the shot as I breathed out. The arrow breaks through the temple of the zombie, slides into it's skull and stays there, the zombie instantly falls to the ground, making a dull thud on impact.

Calming my nerves again, I slowly pull out another and shoot one nearby in the eye, and it falls as well. Then again, and again, in a slow and steady pace that becomes fast from its smooth nature.

As I killed the 9th zombie the others started to howl. Looking down, I could see that the 'light' from the first zombie I killed had now fully disappeared. Only after it was gone had the zombies noticed that one of them had died.

The zombies began to howl and ran towards the door to the roof.

'What the hell you guys?! I'm over here! Why are you trying to break into the roof?'

From behind the doors I heard a voice yell out, muffled under the howling of zombies.

"The zombies are suddenly going crazy!! Why are they so excited all of a sudden? They seemed like they were perfectly fine with leaving us alone! Why?!? The door won't hold!!"

'Oops...'

------

The zombies, incensed by the loss of a comrade, lashed out towards the nearest hint of life energy. Which happened to come from the survivors on the roof, since his own was thoroughly masked.

They did not bother too much with those survivors before, as it was simply too troublesome to break through the door when they had tried to before, they had started to ignore it. They knew those living beings were still there and hadn't moved, so they were perfectly content to just wait for them.

After all, even as they waited, they could still grow stronger. However, the opposite was true for the living.

But with the loss of a Zombie, they could only attribute it to the nearby living beings.

'Eliminate the threat!'

At the time the zombies tried to break it down before, many had still yet to evolve. Now however, with so many Hulking Zombies knocking at their door, it would be knocked down in due time regardless of what they had used to barricade it.

The enormous frames cared not for injury, or even loss of life or limb. They began to throw themselves with every last ounce of force and with their entire bodies. It took but a moment for the seemingly firm and barricaded metal doors to be knocked slightly ajar.

On the opposite side of the barricaded door, most of the remaining 12 survivors frantically shoved whatever knocked loose pieces they could back into place, and tried to push the door back into place. While a few readied what weapons they had in anticipation of the soon to come fight for survival.

However, each of their faces were dyed pale white from despair.

These survivors had not merely laundered about doing nothing.

They knew that no rescue was coming, as they had seen the situation of the rest of the city perfectly well from the roof. They had tried on a number of occasions to fight their way down, losing most of their people trying.

One of them had even managed to get system access, after killing many many zombies. However, it was all useless. A single Hulking zombie could decimate a group regardless of how hard you tried to fight back or how smart, and simply having access to the system would not instantly make you stronger than the average person.

The more they fought, the more they caught the attention of the stronger zombies. Eventually the Hulking zombies had swarmed them en-mass together with their regulars. At that point they had no hope in fighting, and could only fall back once again to the roof.

These survivors had attempted to escape this rooftop a few times a while back and checked the status outside occasionally, they knew it was futile to try and win against those zombies.

With them rampaging and coming at them now all at once, it seemed their end had finally come.

------

I pulled out more arrows and shot down the zombies as they approached the door. Regardless of how many I shot down, the Zombies ran in to replace them even faster.

One could easily hear occasional fearful shrieks and yells from the other side. The survivors were clearly not submitting themselves to their fates either though, occasionally I could see stabs flying out from behind the door, they seemed to be using pikes and other weapons to keep them at bay.

However, before I knew it I had already run out of hunting arrows, and although the remaining Hulking zombies was at least 35 less, there were still almost 20 of them remaining.

I hurriedly pried an arrow out of one of the zombies that had fallen down near me, but it took a fair moment to do so. In the short time I took to pry it out, I could look back and see that a poor fellow had already been snatched out from behind the door and was now being turned into a happy meal.

Cries of anguish came out from behind the door, but the man distracted the zombies well enough for them to firmly move about the barricade and firmly shut the door shut again.