I stood there, barely upright, surrounded by the wreckage, black flames and the blood-soaked ground. My entire body returned to its malnourished state, no longer the towering beast. It throbbed.

  Pain pulsed through me, a relentless drumbeat in my skull, my ribs burning with every shallow breath. Each inhale scraped my insides like sandpaper, but I refused to fall. Not yet.

  Not in front of him.

  Albert stood opposite me, his face smeared with soot, eyes glinting with that cruel satisfaction l'd come to know so well. His gun was steady, aimed right at my chest. His voice, low and unyielding, cut through the chaos around us.

  The look in his eyes twisted my stomach.

  "You're resilient. I'll give you that," he murmured, as if he were actually proud. "All those times I pushed you, forced you to endure more than any person should... It made you strong."

  I knew what came next.

  His voice was low, unwavering, like the crack of a gavel. "But it ends here, Edwin."

  A laugh tried to claw its way up my throat, but it came out as a ragged cough. My fingers curled into the dirt, nails digging into the filth as I forced myself to hold his gaze.

  "Fuck!" I spat, the curse laced with something bitter-rage, maybe. Or exhaustion.

  His expression didn't change, but I caught the twitch in his fingers, the brief flicker of something deeper.

  "Don't give me that look," he said, almost amused. "Don't shut down on me just yet."

  He sighed, rubbing his temple, the weight of it all dragging his shoulders down for a fleeting second. "I guess... I'm the one to blame for these men's fates."

  My eyes flickered to the bodies scattered around us-limp, motionless, some barely recognizable as human. The firelight cast long, grotesque shadows across the battlefield.

  Their deaths are my fault.

  Or his?

  The line blurred too easily. Should the one who couldn’t control the beast be responsible, or the creator of the beast?

  "Then just….. finish it," I rasped. "Get revenge for your men. Finish me off here so that this never happens again."

  Albert's lips pressed into a thin line, his head shaking slightly-almost pitying. Almost.

  "No, Edwin. I don't want you dead." He stepped forward, measured, assured, his gun never wavering. "I need you alive. It can only be you."

  Then he must be trying to make more monsters.

  I felt a laugh bubble up, broken and painful, my ribs protesting with each sound. Blood spattered as I coughed, but I didn't care. "You can't control me forever."

  The air between us thickened, the heat of the burning around us was suffocating. It had to be my will power that kept me conscious.

  "We're so close to the cure," he continued, his voice softer now, as if he were trying to reason with me. "To developing the weapon that will end all of this. You don't see it yet, but you could save the world." His eyes darkened. "You could be a hero."

  The word hit like a bullet.

  Hero.

  A laugh tore from my throat, raw and broken, filling my mouth with the taste of blood. He had said this to me before, and perhaps I did believe him at some point in the past. However I could not pretend to be naive.

  "A hero?" My voice dripped venom, my hands trembling at my sides. "Look at me." My body ached, ruined. "I'm the monster you created, Albert." I gestured to the corpses, to the flames licking at the edges of the wreckage. "Look at what happened when I lost control."

  His jaw tightened. Just like that, whatever sliver of pity that had surfaced in his gaze was gone.

  "Maybe," he said, voice like steel. "But that monster will stay here, even if I have to break you to make it happen."

  His meaning slammed into me, cold and suffocating.

  He lied, he wasn't looking for a cure. He’s been trying to make more monsters.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The realization sent another laugh bubbling up-jagged, painful. My ribs screamed with each sound, blood spattering the ground as I coughed.

  "You can't control me forever."

  The firelight cut sharp shadows across Albert’s face. His tone was deep and impactful.

  "We'll see about that."

  His gun moved before I could react.

  BANG!

  A deafening crack split the air.

  The impact hit like a hammer, my body jerking as the bullet tore through me. My legs gave out, and the world tilted violently as I collapsed onto the bloodstained earth.

  The sky blurred, the fires bleeding into the dark.

  My body felt distant, weightless.

  The sound of footsteps could be heard through the ringing in my ears. The sound of boots splashing through the crimson pools I had made.

  He gripped me tightly by the arm and lifted me up over his shoulder.

  The two of us stood amidst the wreckage, the bodies, the flames. The battlefield was dead around us, but the black fire still whispered, still crackled, like the voices of the fallen lingering in the smoke.

  Albert lifted his radio, tuning to a private channel, his voice flat.

  "Clean up needed at the eastern gate."

  Click!

  Then, as if the smoke itself had swallowed us whole, we vanished, leaving the blood-soaked battlefield behind us.

  A few moments later, three sets of rushing footsteps could be heard.

  ———///////———

  The air was thick with the scent of blood and burnt flesh. Smoke curled in the dim light, snaking through the wreckage, whispering over bodies that littered the velvet bathed road. Cenilera stood amidst the carnage, her hands stained with the warmth of the now dead man. Her breath shuddered.

  "This is... awful," she whispered, brushing strands of hair from her damp forehead as she knelt beside another fallen guard.

  Fingers pressed against his throat-nothing. Just cooling skin and a vacant stare. Her stomach churned, but she swallowed the bile, forcing herself to move to the next one.

  A pulse. Faint, but there. The rise and fall of shallow, wheezing breaths.

  She wasn't too late. Not for all of them.

  James stepped further inside, his boots crunching against shattered glass and debris.

  His eyes swept the scene, cataloging every corpse, every ruinous wound. The gun at his side felt heavier than before. Flashes of the constant battles when the walls were being built flooded his otherwise solitude mind.

  "We got here not even two minutes after that last radio call." His voice was gruff and tense.

  "Where the hell is Albert—and the brat?"

  "They should still be nearby. We can catch up with them," Robert said, though his voice wavered.

  He knew better. The battle was over. There were no more gunshots, no more inhuman roars shaking the walls. The silence meant only one thing: Albert had already left, taking Edwin with him. He was efficient like that, never lingering when the dead would soon rise.

  James stepped over a twisted body, squinting down at the sheer brutality of the wounds. Deep gouges, limbs bent in ways they shouldn't be, bones jutting out, flesh torn as if something had ripped through them like paper.

  "It looks like a goddamn animal tore through here," he muttered.

  Cenilera barely registered his words, her hands moving on their own, pressing against wounds, checking for movement, for life. Sweat dripped down her temple.

  "The kid did all this?" Robert asked, his voice tinged with something he didn't want to name.

  Cenilera swallowed hard, fingers trembling as she pressed against a deep laceration, her palm coming away slick with red.

  They... they might make it. But only if we move fast. I need to disinfect these cuts before we transport them. If we don't, it'll be a death sentence. They won’t survive an infection which means they’d turn into zombies."

  A sickening groan cut through the air. A body stirred on the floor.

  Robert froze. "We got a live one over here!" He took a cautious step closer, voice low. "Hey, you alright? What happened?"

  The guard-no, the thing that had once been a guard-lurched upright, its mouth parting with a garbled moan. Its fingers twitched, curling toward its own spilled intestines that trailed from an open wound.

  James acted first.

  "Shit!" He whipped out his gun.

  Bang!

  The headshot sent the corpse slumping back to the ground, unmoving.

  Robert's jaw tightened. "How many bullets do you have left?"

  James' eyes flicked across the rising bodies. He clenched his jaw. "Fifteen-if every shot lands."

  Robert exhaled sharply. "Toss me your baton."

  James didn't hesitate. The metal baton arced through the air, and Robert caught it with practiced ease. The electric current hummed as he gripped it tighter.

  More bodies were shifting now. Limbs twitching, mouths parting as the infection took hold.

  Cenilera had gone still, frozen where she knelt.

  "Protect your girlfriend," James said, stepping forward. "I'll take point. We need to move before we get boxed in."

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Two more fell. But the shots had drawn attention. Outside the gates, the echoes of the shots caused the corpses to rise.

  "We're already surrounded," Robert snapped.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  James cursed. "Dammit! Get to the wall. I'll draw them in and thin them out as much as I can."

  Bang!

  The floor around them began to shift, bodies twitching and stumbling as more guards began to reanimate.

  Cenilera grabbed James' sleeve. "You can't-"

  Bang! Bang!

  "Just go," he cut her off, voice hard. "If I run out, I'll toss the gun to you. Save the last bullet for me."

  Robert's face twisted. "You're really gonna throw yourself away like that? You think I want that on my conscience?"

  Bang! Bang!

  James smirked grimly. "Then keep up, and don't slow me down."

  Bang!

  Another corpse lunged. Robert’s baton struck it across the skull, and the sharp crack of bone echoed through the corridor.

  Bang! Bang!

  "I-I can't," she stammered, her hands shaking.

  "I don't know how to shoot-"

  James gritted his teeth. Bang! "Grab a baton then!"

  "I'm out of bullets, just stay out of our way and pay attention to the corpses around you!" James barked as he swung his baton, striking a zombie across its face. The jolt of electricity seared the creature's rotting flesh, sending tiny sparks along its wound.

  Careful!" Robert warned. "Their blood's contaminated!"

  A sharp, wet sound filled the air as James dodged another attack, his baton slamming down on the reanimated corpse's skull. The impact left a sickening indentation.

  Cenilera couldn't move. She was barely breathing. The bodies, the blood, the reek of death-she'd seen it all before, but this was different. She wasn't in an infirmary, she wasn't behind locked doors. There was no waiting this one out.

  Then, without warning a corpse began to wriggle itself upward too closely behind Cenilera.

  The corpse shot up, lurching forward with a guttural snarl. Cold fingers dug into her arms, yanking her back, off balance. Her back hit the ground hard.

  Thud!

  She looked up-and her breath caught in her throat.

  It was on top of her. Jaw unhinged, face inches from hers. Its blood-slick hands locked onto her shoulders, nails biting into flesh. Its mouth gaped wider, and she could smell it-rotting breath.

  “Watch out!”