Author Note: Welcome to the Grimdark! I am Don, and I'll be your host for the coming chapters of this story. Don't forget to leave comments, and maybe a review. Help this story reach other and this author grow.
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Humans laying dead. It was a common scene by now in this hellscape of a reality. It was the new sight everyone who has survived became accustomed to. Those who once ruled this land were reduced to nothing as everything failed to hold against the onslaught.
It happened like a horror plot unfolding, hordes upon hordes of monsters came from the mysterious Rifts of the beyond. No less than 24 hours after the first rift was discovered, and the world was already overrun.
It wasn't a phenomenon, it was an invasion, a total war, and when every superpower on Earth was brought to its knees, it escalated to a genocide.
Three months in, humanity was 95% wiped out. From every twenty you may have known, only one survived.
Hiding in the sewers, scavenging for food, struggling for survival, fighting monsters, shooting, hacking, slashing, dying.
Dying......
The later part was the definitive end as it seemed, Adam thought about that as he was surrounded by those green-skinned man-eaters that were about to devour him like how they devour the others.
"Pity not those who died, but those who survived, for every waking moment they see the end beckoning, and the hordes of hell will rise and inherit the earth!"
He recalled a prayer for pity from a well-loved story. A geek, no, a super geek molded into a survivor by circumstance, he enjoyed novels, tabletop games, the grunge and alternative of the 90s, Saturday Morning Cartoons fueled by sugary cereal, and other lighthearted things that once brought him joy—or perhaps would now bring a tear to his eye.
As for the prayer, he read it in the novel "Sol Imperius: the Heir of Light", a lorebook of his favorite war game, Wartopia. He muttered it to himself as he lifted himself up to sit against the damaged car in this parking garage, then looked around to see the Gobzkins surrounding him on their monstrous mounts.
He was done for, he will be devoured whole like the people he saw getting eaten by Gobzkins before, a fate worse than death to be eaten alive.
Less than ten minutes ago, he was fighting for his life alongside a group of Survivors against those monstrosities. He was holding an M16 rifle, burst-firing, and finally succeeding to fell three monsters all by himself, a pathetic display compared to a veteran like Victor who rarely missed a shot.
But among the green monsters emerged a large one, normies would mistake it for an Orc but geeks know a Gobzkin Shaman when they see one. An elderly yet large brute with muscles and bone spikes peaking from its withered skin, tall as an average man, and holding a crude club-like weapon with skulls, fangs, and strange markings adorning it.
The Gobzkin Shaman didn't fight from the front or shoot arrows like the others. Rather, he took a couple of strange looking voodoo-doll-like puppets off his ragged robes and after a crude monstrous chant, he threw them at the center of the humans.
Then disaster struck.
The puppets came to life, enlarging as the shook, unfazed by bullets, unstoppable as they towered over every human around before finally, their growth halted.
The silence before the storm.
One puppet was made of wood and bones but mostly wood, the other made of bones and wood but mostly bones.
They twitched… they moved!
Their movement was in bizarre patterns as if they were puppets held by strings from above and they wrecked absolute havoc to the valiant humans.
Victor was the first to die, ending his bullying to Adam, at last. Then Jess, his girlfriend, was crushed by a puppet but was a shame, especially since she was hot. However, she also taunted Adam for being unmanly and clinging to that miniature he carries.
His miniature… now that he thinks of it, it was the last piece he painted three months ago before the world came apart. He was supposed to play with his friends when they gathered, his best work to date. Somehow, holding that miniature near this heart made him feel just as brave as the man it portrayed.
Captain Creed, what a guy he is! Adam would feel his testosterone bumping just by caressing his fingers on the power armor of that manly miniature.
Captain Creed of the Slayers, a Legion of Star Paladins donned in power armor, holding a plasma pistol and a solar saber, shooting down hordes of Infernals and HereTechs. It was the peakest of masculine fantasy.
What a scene it was that played in his head! Certainly just as cool as how he killed the leader of that Gobzkin pack just a minute ago.
Oh yes, he did it, and he did beautifully.
His group was being killed left and right, he was shooting frantically and just as Victor died, his backpack found its way to Adam's feet, and lo and behold, sweet baby Claymore.
Christmas may not be coming this year but 700 grams of sweet sweet TNT packed in that rectangular green box of perfection were just as good.
Run, hide, plant the claymore, extend the wire, get back to safety. Whoops! The monsters are already here, get panicked, and KABOOM!
Blasting a claymore from 10 meters distance… bad idea! Really bad idea!
But hey, the Gobzkin Shaman is dead, humans avenged, Geeks: 1, Monsters: … well, millions by this point.
Back to the now…
Adam was at his luck's end, he knew he wouldn't make it. He tried to extend his hand to the M16 lying next to him after taking the full shock-wave of that explosion but alas, an arrow shot by a Gobzkin, aiming for Adam's hand, hit the rifle away.
"Those blasted fucks!"
Adam swore and felt like he could no longer put up a fight before getting eaten alive. If he had a sidearm on him, he'd be putting a bullet into his… no, he's not the kind to do it.
He'd struggle and struggle until the end… after all, who the fuck wants to die?
Yet as his eyes took a desperte survey of his surroundings, seeking anything that may save him, he saw the corpse of the Gobzkin Shaman, riddled by claymore pellets.
And no more than 3 meters away from where he is, there was that weapon the Gobzkin Shaman used to smash Victor's skull with.
A club of some kind.
Adam threw himself in that direction as the Gobzkins seemed to be enjoying themselves watching him struggle. Not caring one bit by their fallen chief, the Gobzkins seemed happy their leader was taken down and wanted to toy with his killer more, allowing Adam to get to the club.
And then it happened, from a Gobzkin's point of view, it was something too bright to be comprehended by their savage senses and a couple of seconds later, one man stood in the middle of that scene… towering… menacing… glaring from behind his visor.
Glaring left!
Glaring right!
"SOL IMPERIUS!"
A thundering cry shook the heavens… or at least boomed the parking garage. The man that emerged from the light was holding a glowing sword dancing with flames in his right, and in his left, he had a pistol glowing with golden energy.
Swoosh!
BEW! BEW! BEW!
He shot his pistol and swung his blade at the enemies that surrounded him. Those who were shot were set ablaze and blasted to ash, those who were slashed were cut like a hot knife through butter.
The Gobzkins charged to overwhelm him with their numbers but that man in oversized armor was already way too much for them to handle all by his lonesome, and he killed and killed and killed until their green blood covered every inch of his armor, helmet, and cape.
As they scattered away, driven back by their survival instincts, the towering man stood still, breathing lightly as if he didn't exert any effort just now and looked back at the man fallen behind him.
A translucent yet radiant flame suddenly engulfed the man for a couple seconds and went away. Just like that, all the blood and entrails that covered him vanished and he was returned a new, clean, and graceful. He then spoke from beyond his helmet, his voice mechanical as it was being transmitted from under his helm, which made him more dreadful and less human than what he already was.
"Citizen, identify yourself for interrogation!"
As the towering man approached the lying citizen, he halted with narrowed eyes as he inspected the strange attire of the lying man as well as the strange atmosphere around him, which he just noticed.
The place was… cold… colder than whatever he's used to, and felt rather peaceful even though it was overrun with monsters.
Such a thing could be possible? He thought.
But then, the only thing that can give him quicker answers to these impending questions was none other than the fallen citizen who needed rescue.
Speaking of which, Adam—the citizen in question—was lying unconscious after what he just experienced. A bright light, a towering man, a massacre of Gobzkins, that was hardly anything noteworthy to what he was going through.
When he touched the club of the Gobzkin Shaman, something happened within his mind… nay, within his very soul.
He saw visions, heard voices, and even read words. Nothing was native to him or to anyone on Earth. It was alien, outlandish, new.
How could he ever describe it?
It was like your very being is a stone, then someone came with a chisel and started carving unfamiliar characters on it. If that stone had passed some millions of years of evolution and came to possess a nervous system and his parents called him Adam, then there would be no distinction between them at the moment.
What he felt was every fiber of his being, every strand, and every cell, getting carved on. He was awakening to a new feeling, realizing something alien, and coming to know things any human mind would shatter against.
And when that feeling started to be too overwhelming to bear, it all receded in a second, and was replaced with something else. Those words and characters suddenly got smarter on their own, and as if they read his mind and adapted to him, they became something that he can finally understand.
Adam, Survivor, Sorcerer… the words started to see something within him. They magically arranged themselves to tell a story… no, to come to some sort of an understanding.
Not much happened after that point. Adam thought that he heard some other words but his mind was too exhausted to bear the weight of that kind of pressure and he passed out under the watchful gaze of the towering man.
"Citizen! Awaken!"
The towering man in armor seemed to have discovered the source of Adam's blight, the strange looking club with strange carvings, bone attachments, and sinister aura. Immediately, he bashed it away from Adam's hand and it shattered as it flew off and hit a nearby pillar.
Then it all calmed down in Adam's head. The towering man knelt beside him and lifted him up, looking left and right. There were still minor monsters lurking about but they learned the might of the towering man and none of them would dare fight him now. With that, he decided to perform something that can only be seen as a miracle.
He laid Adam on his left arm then put his right hand over Adam's heart, and with a humming prayer, he called for the translucent flame once again.
It was burning hot, hotter than anything anyone would bear, but it was harmless. Adam felt it going through him, healing old wounds and new alike, giving him life and energy he never once had in his life.
And there, he woke up and saw the face he never once thought possible to see in this lifetime of his.
The face of…
"Hey, you! You're finally awake!"
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Author Note: Hope you liked it. If you wish to read more chapters, I'll publish them on P@treon, use the URL: https://linktr.ee/donovel