Zombie Gun

Chapter 1

"Waitttt waitttt, can we talk about this?" Rykei said, trapped in a large entanglement of webs made of blood, wrapped around his entire body besides his head. He had dark blonde and brown hair in a ponytail, dark red eyes, a vine tattoo on his neck, and a scar on the left side of his forehead.

There were black and red spiders made out of blood, with red horns on their heads, mouths leaking with foam. Across the area where the blood webs twisted like ties up shoelaces.

"Okay these webs are getting super duper tight…"

Across the intricate maze of bloody threads, Antraella, the zombie spider queen, loomed large. Her body was a horrific spectacle of red and black, grotesquely beautiful in its nightmarish form. "Oh Rykei," she hissed with a voice that seemed to crawl along the webs, "you have been chosen by our god, the divine orchestrator of this new world, sacrifice for the greater good."

Rykei, whose sense of humor had somehow remained intact despite the grim realities of the world, chuckled nervously. "Oh, Spider-bitch, lovely to meet you," he shouted back, trying to ignore the fact that he was talking to a giant spider. "But honestly, I must advise against eating me. I'm like a human bean burrito, it's just too much gas. You don't want indigestion to upset your divine duties, right? I like to shit."

"âWhat?"

"I mean, my diet has not been to my liking so far, because a bunch of zombies are coming around, eating people and turning THEM into zombies. It's just too much. This apocalypse started literally 3 days ago, and now there's zombie spiders. What's next? Suited up zombie assassins?"

Antraella's many eyes narrowed. "Your jests will not deter your fate," she responded cooly, her legs moving with eerie grace across the web. 

"Wait, wait, hear me out!" Rykei yelled, swinging slightly in his blood web confinement. "I'm also very high in cholesterol. Like, dangerously high. You might get a spider-heart attack. Does that work with your whole god's plan thing?"

The spider queen paused, tilting her head as if considering his words. "Your attempts to dissuade are futile. You have been chosen to feed the Pillars of our god. Your sacrifice will nourish them, sustaining their holy mission. You have the ability to switch from human to zombie when it's night and day time. That type of power is unknown to god. And therefore I will deliver him to you—I mean deliver you to him—!"

Rykei pointer and laughed, "HAHAHA! You messed up!"

"Tch!"

"Waiiiit! Waiiiit! But think of the long-term!" Rykei persisted, his voice edged with mock concern. "You eat me now, and what? You'll need a nap, and become less alert. Imagine if some sneaky human gets the jump on you because you were too busy digesting!"

Antraella moved closer, her massive form casting a shadow over Rykei. "Your humor will be your last companion," she stated flatly, yet there was a slight pause, a hesitation as if the absurdity of his remarks momentarily perplexed her.

"And let's not even start on taste!" Rykei continued, almost cheerfully. "I mean, I've been surviving on canned beans and stale crackers and a bunch of other nasty shit.. My flavor profile is just disappointing. Really, I'm doing you a favor here."

For a moment, silence stretched across the web. Antraella regarded Rykei, the soft pulsing of the web under her feet the only sound. "Your words are vexing," she finally admitted, a filament of confusion in her voice.

Rykei grinned as well as he could, tangled and trapped. "Well, if I'm going to be your dinner, I might as well be entertaining, right? Last meal and a show kind of deal."

Antraella considered this, the monstrous yet majestic queen of a fallen world, communing silently with her unseen god. Then, with a graceful twist of her body, she retreated slightly. "Perhapsss¦" she murmured, more to herself than to Rykei, "This meal with surely suffice! Yes!"

"Wait! Why are you getting so excited?! Psycho!"

And there Rykei hung, a man entwined in blood webs, his fate hanging as delicately as he was, in the balance between a joke and a sacrificial altar.

Antraella commanded her spiders around her, "Feed."

The spiders dashed out towards wrapped up Rykei, and Rykei sighed, saying, "Welp. I had fun I guess."

THOOM!

Rykei bursted from the webs, pulled a red smoky katana from his chest, and twisted In mid air, slashing the zombie blood spiders in half, their guts and intensities flinging all over the place.

Rykei landed on his feet, with zombie spider blood all over him, he gagged, "ACK! EW! Every damn time. It's still nasty."

The spider zombies rushed in like football players, and Rykei shivered, not in fear, but in disgust.

He wretched, holding his mouth, "I'm gonna barf. All over the ground."

'First I've seen regular zombies, now all of a sudden there's zombie spiders, and a zombie spider queen. Are they evolving? No, they can't be. The leader seems to have been around a long time, she says she's a pillar, for a "god" or something, that god of their must've started this apocalypse..'

With defiance burning like wildfire, Rykei tears through the blood webs, emerging like a phantom of vengeance. In a dramatic flourish, he pulls forth a red smoky katana embedded in his chest, a weapon steeped in shadows, as if it were formed from the darkest depths of despair. The air hums as he draws the blade, charging with a presence that feels almost alive. Its edge sings a mournful wail, waiting to carve through the horde of spider zombies now skittering toward him, driven by Antraella's vehement command.

Rykei laughed, "Haha! Let's have some fun."

First contact is a swift, clean slice, Rykei moves like a streak of red mist, his katana meeting the thick, gooey exoskeleton of his first attacker. The blade cuts a graceful arc, splattering black ichor across the shattered pavement, the zombie's upper half sliding grotesquely off its legs.

He spins, ducking under a pouncing zombie, feeling the wind of its leap ruffle his hair. Rykei's counter is a low sweep, the katana flashing in a deadly crescent moon that reaps legs like a scythe through wheat, causing the creature to crash onto its own gnashing teeth. The air is thick with the coppery tang of blood as Rykei pivots again. His movements are fluid, a series of dashes and leaps that carry him through the swarm. Spider zombies lunge from all sides, their limbs snapping with the force of their undead hunger.

With a grimace, Rykei plants his feet and swings horizontally. His blade meets multiple bodies this time, severing them with such force that bodies get flung sideways, thudding against the remnants of old cars and crumbling walls, their blood painting everything in a horrific tableau. He doesn't slow; Rykei's next move is upward, a twisting diagonal climb that catches a particularly large zombie under the chin, splitting its head up through the skull, showering the area in dark viscera.

A moment's pause to breathe, and he senses a behemoth of a spider zombie barreling toward him from behind. He leaps, using a fallen beam as a springboard, flipping over the creature, and landing just in time to sever it in half from skull to abdomen as he slides under its collapsing frame. Gritting his teeth, Rykei rolls forward as two zombies converge on his position, their mandibles clicking furiously. He comes up beneath them, katana rising in a swift, snug arc, finding the soft underbelly of one, while his boot kicks out to shatter the carapace of the other.

The battle rhythm pulses in his veins; for every move there is a counter, for every attack, a defense. With a cyclonic twirl of his blade, he decimates another pair, sending them spinning away like broken dolls.  Rykei's footing falters on slippery blood-soaked cobblestones. He uses the slip, converting momentum into a low spinning strike that cuts through the legs of three approaching enemies, their torsoes thumping to the ground, their limbs still twitching grotesquely.

He is tiring, breath fogging in sharp pants, and yet his spirit drives him onward. A monstrous spider jumps, shadows cast eerily by its massive form. Rykei meets it in mid-air, katana driving through its heart, pinning it into the cracked asphalt as they land. As he wrenches his blade free, a deafening shriek pierces the air. Antraella, her form a silhouette against the crumbling cityscape. She lunges, monstrous and furious, her own limbs deadly weapons of divine wrath.

"WE CAN DO THIS ALLLL DAY!" Rykei exclaimed with a grin as more zombie blood hit his body.

The spider queen, Antraella said, "Go! My legions! We serve god! We have to be strong for him! For he has delivered this world into our hands! We are the embodiment of apocalyptic nature! Kill this unknown hybrid..unknown to god!"

'How is he this strong for a human? As many humans I have devoured this one..is strange..'

They clash, katana against chitinous limbs, each strike a burst of shadow and blood. Rykei's movements are a blur, a dance of death edged in desperation and sheer will.

Antraella's leg spears out like a lance, catching Rykei off-guard, his side explodes in pain, blood staining his clothes as he staggers back.

Gritting his teeth, he sidesteps another lethal swipe, his blade arcing up in a desperate bid, only to be met by another of her limbs, knocking him backward.

Rykei falls, the world tilting. He rolls aside just as Antraella's massive form slams into where he had lain, cracking the pavement, sending debris flying.

"AGH! Haha! That felt good!" Rykei chuckled, spitting to the right.

He struggles up, pain clouding his vision, the red katana still in his grasp. Antraella approaches, towering, inevitable. But Rykei, with the last of his energy, lashes out in a final, ferocious attack.

 The katana pierces through Antraella's face, the tip emerging with a crack through the back of her skull. Her movements falter, limbs twitching erratically as she collapses beside him, her body contorting in death spasms.

"Aghh! Impossible!" Antraella screeched.

Ryeki mocked, "IMpOssIBLE! It was obvious from the get go I was gonna win. I'm too strong. For some odd reason that I do not regret whatsoever."

He slid on front of her, and his right hand formed into a red and black crystallized structured, and his arm and fist became large, and he had a red and black crystal horn come out the side of his head. He grinned as he punched the body of Antraella, making her fly into the air. 

He darted forward, and leaped into the air, and his crystallized arm formed into a gun with a large barrel, and large bullets shot out of it, blasting holes all into Antraella, blood and poison flinging everywhere, making her scream over and over, the sounds of the gunshots roaring as large vibrations and "THOOMS!" Repeatedly, and right after, Rykei, zipped towards her, ripping his katana out of Antraella's face, spun, and sliced her in half.

"Another zombie clapped. Wait no that sounded wrong.."

'Three days since the apocalypse started, and I have these abilities..I've seen some other survivors with abilities, but not like mine. It's strange, isn't it?'

…

Blood pools and the shadows lengthen as the sun dips below the horizon, leaving Rykei alone, victorious but gravely wounded, under the cold gaze of a world torn asunder by monsters and gods alike. The red smoky blade, although silent, seems to hum with a dark resonance, its task completed, yet its existence a relentless reminder of the battles fought and the cost of survival in this fragmented reality. His wounds were healing slowly, and he began to stretch as his stomach growled under the shining sun. 

Rykei staggered through the desolate streets of what was once a vibrant Tokyo, his side aching with each step where Antraella's leg had pierced him. The city lay in ruin, a tomb of its former glory under the harsh light of a merciless sun. Dust swirled around his feet, and the sky was a dull, unending gray, clouds of ash perpetually suspended in the air, filtering the sunlight into a perpetual twilight. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant crumbling of structures giving way after long neglect, or the sudden, sharp echo of a falling piece of debris. Buildings that had once scraped the sky were now jagged teeth in a skyline that bit into the heavy clouds, their exteriors scarred by the chaos of the apocalypse.

'Sad..sad how this world USED to be. Did I play an important role before everything went to SHIT? Not really. I was In my 3rd year in college and then this happened. My girlfriend is lost, and my only goal is to find her here.'

Rykei passed a park, once lush and inviting, now a grey wasteland. The swings stood still, their chains rusted, the slides warped by heat and neglect. A faded, torn poster flapped in the breeze, the cheerful colors and smiling faces of a world long gone mocking the present desolation. As he moved through what was once a bustling marketplace, his boots crunched on the scattered remnants of human endeavors, broken glass, twisted metal, and the bones of those who had fallen. Here and there, a charred vehicle lay abandoned, its structure bent and broken as if the earth itself had rejected it. Turning down an alley, Rykei paused as his eyes caught sight of a blood marking on the walls; a chilling quote written in a once vibrant, now darkened red: "In chaos, we cleanse." It was a dictum of Antraella's god, reminders of the purpose behind the madness, yet they offered no solace, only a deep, resonating chill that settled in his bones.

'These are new..more new shit just keeps popping up. Pillars, zombies, a god of these zombies..what's really going on? I have the same questions everyone else does. Everyone else, survivors, why don't I team with them? It's a waste of time. I'm only looking for Seven, my truly perfect girlfriend whom I miss very much. I feel like I'm close to finding her. I've barely had rest, eaten only small rations, because most food is tainted with zombie shit. Most survivors go to a woman who can cleanse food and drinks and all that, but it's risky.'

He continued on, passing under what remained of an overpass. Here, the concrete had crumbled, exposing the twisted rebar like the ribcage of a giant beast. Moss and vines crept over the decay, nature slowly reclaiming the land, indifferent to the plight of humanity. Amidst a cluster of what had once been residential high-rises, Rykei noticed more blood markings, each more cryptic than the last. "Through destruction, we build anew," one declared in a scrawling, desperate hand. It seemed the god's followers believed in a brutal rebirth, envisioning a purified world rising from the ashes of the old.

Every step took him past more devastation, but also through areas where the relentless grip of nature displayed a stark, wild beauty among the ruins. Flowers, somehow defiant, bloomed in patches of dirt and rubble, their vibrant colors stark against the grey of decay. They were little bursts of life, persistent and unrestrained. He walked past a school, its structure eerily intact amidst the surrounding destruction. The playground was overrun with weeds, and through the dusty windows, Rykei could see desks and chairs upturned, textbooks opened to long-forgotten lessons, the chalkboard frozen in time with half-written words.

Further on, Rykei found a small shrine, somehow untouched, the red torii gate standing bright and solemn amidst the chaos. He paused here, the familiarity of the place a small comfort. Incense sticks, long since burned out, lay scattered around, and a faded ema hung swaying gently in the breeze, the wishes of past visitors whispered into the still air. As he left the shrine, a soft drizzle began to fall, the ash-laden raindrops leaving streaks on his jacket. The moisture stirred the smells of wet earth and mold, blending with the metallic scent of blood and ruins. It felt like the city itself was weeping, mourning its lost souls and broken dreams.

Rykei's path eventually led him to the river, which flowed sluggishly, its surface a mirror reflecting the decrepit world above. Along its banks, broken bridges jutted out, leading to nowhere, their ends suspended over the water like unfinished thoughts. Following the river led him to an area that had been a commercial hub, the storefronts now gaping open, their contents spilled out like the entrails of a gutted animal. Mannequins lay scattered on the ground, some missing limbs, others staring blankly at the chaos around them, eerie sentinels of the past.

He noticed a wall, completely covered in blood quotations, a macabre tapestry that told a story of despair, determination, and twisted faith. The words "End is beginning, and beginning is the end," sprawled across in large, dripping letters, dominated the scene, watching over the streets like a prophet's mantra. As the sun began to descend, casting long shadows over the city, Rykei realized he was no longer walking through just a physical landscape, but a psychological one, each step taking him deeper through the visceral remnants of human folly interwoven with echoes of hope and despair. His wounds ached with every step, pulling him back toward the reality of his situation, yet it was the silent strength of the enduring city, beaten and battered, that propelled him forward. This journey wasn't just a survey of loss; it was a testament to the resilience found even in the darkest of times, reflected in every resilient plant and standing structure that defied the chaos. 

As the light faded from the sky, plunging the city into the intense darkness of a storm-strewn night, a more sinister aspect of the apocalypse began to stir, its nocturnal denizens, hungering for flesh. Rykei, ever vigilant, entered the skeletal remains of an abandoned mall, its glass doors shattered, the remnants hanging like jagged teeth. Shadows danced along the walls as the wind howled through broken panes, creating ghostly whispers that echoed through the hollow spaces.

Inside, the dull thump of his boots against the dusty tile floors resounded through the empty corridors. Kiosks were overturned, and shop windows stood smashed, their once valuable contents strewn about or long plundered. Mannequins, decapitated and dismembered, added to the grotesque scenery, poised as if in mid-scream.

Figures emerged from the darkness, zombies, their movements staggered, clumsyâ€"zombies, their eyes void of any discernible emotion, guided only by a primal hunger. 

"Raghhhh.." They snarled. 

Rykei made a disgusted face, "Please stop looking at me."

The zombies rushed forward, and Rykei squealed in disgust, but he knew he had to dispose of them.

Even though Rykei is not new to killing zombies, he's still an enemy of germs, blood, dirt, anything nasty. 

Rykei dispatched them with swift, clean strokes, his blade slicing through the decayed flesh with ease, their bodies thumping heavily against the ground. Each fell with little fuss, hardly a match for his honed skills and sharp steel.

"Gross.."

However, as he progressed towards the central atrium of the mall, the atmosphere shifted palpably. Here, the moon broke through the clouds momentarily, casting an eerie light over the space. Standing in various poised positions, as if part of some grotesque tableau, were figures significantly more formidable than the ones Rykei had encountered thus far.

'Something's here.."

These were the zombie assassins. Adorned in tattered yet oddly intact suits, their skin was a horrifying display of rotting flesh, but it was their eyes that truly unnerved him, glowing red, brimming with an unliving intensity. They were armed not just with the expectant gnawed limbs or crude weapons, but with an array of combat gear, some clutched guns, others wielded swords, and a few had chains wrapped around their fists.

"Whaaaaat?!"

The zombie assassins said nothing. 

And Rykei laughed, "Wait wait wait, are you guys normal? Is this cosplay? Because you all are too well behaved. I mean, I've come across some zombie spiders and a zombie spider queen, but..actually now that I think about it, you're some new zombies aren't you?"

Rykei stepped into the open center of the atrium, his presence seemingly a challenge, for as he moved, so did the circle of undead assassins. It was a deadly mimicry; every slight shift he made, every breath he drew was reflected in their movements, creating a mirror of movements between the hunter and the hunted.

'They're copying me..my movements..all of them are armed, with guns or melee weapons, holding them like they've held them before.'

The air was thick with tension, a silent standoff under the gaze of countless unblinking, luminescent eyes. Rykei's mind raced, calculating his next move. This was no mindless horde, but a coordinated group of predators, their skills preserved in their undead forms, making them formidable opponents.

'Should I make the first move?"

"AGH!" Rykei gasped, dropping to his knees.

'Shit! It's happening..'

With a slow, measured breath that seemed to echo in the vast, dead mall, Rykei shifted his weight slightly from one foot to the other. Instantly, the zombie assassins mirrored him, their bodies swaying with eerie symmetry. The message was clearâ€"they were ready, reacting to his every move with uncanny precision.

Standing there, the wind from outside sang a lonely song as it moved through the broken spaces of the mall, the only soundtrack to the imminent dance of death. Rykei knew he faced a significant challenge. This night would test all his skills, the boundaries of his endurance, and perhaps, challenge the steely calm of his resolve. The moon cast ghostly shadows, lighting the stage for a battle not just for survival, but for supremacy over the night's dominion. Here in the heart of decay, amidst the specter of fallen commerce and lost humanity, Rykei stood ready, the blade of his katana catching the moonlight as silent whispers of the past mingled with the cold breath of the present.

'It's night time..around 8 o'clock every night, I turn into a zombie for some reason, and things get crazy as hell from here. Sometimes I don't have control over it..and even though I'm fully able to color myself, my mind is half zombie and half human, so a certain bloodlust surrounds me, and I'd want to feed on anything around me, even if it's a human. Which is why if there was a way to cure myself before I found Seven, I'd take it!'

The battle erupts as Rykei's form mutates, his blonde hair darkening to an almost eerie shade of black, his eyes igniting with a sinister red glow. As his skin puckers into rot, his hair seems to levitate with a life of its own. The zombie assassins lunge forward, swords and guns ready. Rykei meets their charge with explosive velocity, darting towards the closest assassin with supernatural speed.

A cold breeze came from his mouth, and the fight began.

Rykei spins beneath a cleaving sword, feeling the air slice above him. He catches the zombie's wrist, twisting it until bones snap. Extending a sharpened bone spike from his elbow, he drives it into the zombie's eye socket, unleashing a burst of decaying curse, the assassin crumbling into dust. An assassin with dual pistols fires as Rykei flips overhead, bullets whizzing past. Landing, Rykei sweeps the zombie's legs, causing him to crash to the ground. Another bone spike protrudes from Rykei's knee, puncturing through the fallen enemy's chest with a splash of dark ichor.

'My human form and zombie form are night and day, no pun intended. I have different abilities when i'm human, and different abilities when im a zombie. If I could fully control the bloodlust of my zombie form, this would be so badass.'

Jumping from the second-floor railing, Rykei slams into a group of three assassins. His landing sends shockwaves through the tiled floor, shattering it. He grabs one by the head, hurling the body into another, while his stretched bone spears through the third, the embedded curse turning them to dust.

As Rykei sprints through a sporting goods store, an assassin swings a spiked bat. Ducking under the swing, Rykei's extended arm bone impales the attacker, lifting him off the ground and using him as a shield against incoming gunfire from another foe. In the fragrance shop, Rykei whirls around, dodging knife slashes that send perfume bottles exploding in fragrant showers. Every precise dodge allows him to close in, finally embracing the zombie tightly before a swift headbutt with a bone crest ends the assassin's unlife.

Ascending the escalator backwards, Rykei faces a descending assassin. As they meet, he sidesteps a bayonet thrust, grabs the zombie's arm, and propels him over the side. The assassin crashes into a cafe below amid a rain of shattered glass.

Cornered temporarily, Rykei feels the sting of a bullet grazing his shoulder. Snapping forward, he collapses the distance, his bone-shrouded fist slamming into the gunman's face, the curse in his bones rotting flesh upon impact. Vaulting over a gelato stand, Rykei evades a sweeping katana cut that cleaves the stand in half. Landing, he spins, lashing out a bone whip from his wrist, entangling his attacker's legs and drawing him in for a bone-crushing knee strike. In the midst of a jewelry store, Rykei smashes through display cases with zombies in pursuit. He grabs a string of pearls, swinging it to trip an assailant, before driving a lengthy spine from his palm through the downed foe's heart.

Utilizing overhead banners for momentum, Rykei swings across the atrium, kicking one assassin in the face, then landing atop another, driving both to the ground with enough force to shatter the floor tiles around them. Rykei finds a sword in the hands of a statue and wields it alongside his bone spikes. Parrying a flurry of attacks with the blade, he counters with lethal precision, driving spikes into exposed flesh, each leaving crumbling figures in his wake.

Bursting through a glass storefront, Rykei rolls as shards rain over him. An assassin follows, but Rykei catches and redirects him into a wall mirror, breaking it and burying the adversary under a cascade of reflective daggers, stabbing them into him nonstop with quick speed.

1Amid the burning remnants of a newsstand, Rykei spins, a bone blade sweeping out to decapitate an encroaching foe, his movement so fluid it seems choreographed, yet each motion is a step danced on the fine line between life and un-death.

Circling a decorative fountain, Rykei lures assassins into slippery terrain. As they falter, he unleashes rapid spikes from the sharp bones coming from his arms, skewering them in succession, their bodies falling into the water with echoing splashes. In a music shop, sound systems blare erratically. Rykei uses this to his advantage, blending his movements with the erratic beats, catching assassins unawares with sudden bursts of speed. He shatters acoustic guitars and sends keyboards crashing to fend off blows, all while landing killing spikes through skulls and torsos.

A fierce melee breaks out near an electronics section, with exploding screens and flickering lights creating a strobe effect. Rykei uses this disorienting ambiance to his advantage, his silhouette now here, now there, elusively striking with deadly bone protrusions and evading hostile attacks with grace, leaving a trail of destructive sparks and shattered electronics.

As the battle reaches its climax, Rykei stands at the center of a torn-down food court, surrounded by the few remaining assassins. Exhausted yet unstoppable, he acknowledges their prowess with a nod before a brutal last dance. Each action is lethal poetry, Rykei's movements paired with bone extensions that impale, slash, and curse, while he nimbly dodges the desperate last strikes of his foes. The few survivors clash with Rykei in a ballet of desperation, their efforts met with Rykei's relentless ferocity. The mall structure groans under the constant duress, pillars cracking. A massive chandelier crashes down, Rykei sidestepping at the last moment, using the debris as a weapon to crush his last opponents.

As silence finally falls over the devastated mall, Rykei, now alone, limps towards a pile of his fallen foes. Surveying the carnage, his figure casts a long shadow in the flickering light. He sinks down atop the pile of debris and decaying foes, pulling out a cigarette. Lighting it, his deep, slow inhale is mirrored by the soft hiss of the burning tobacco. Surrounded by the remnants of destruction and death, he exhales a cloud of smoke towards the broken skylight above, the moonlight catching the plume in a haunting glow. Covered in splatters of dark blood and remnants of battle, Rykei's solitary figure embodies both the horror and allure of the night's deadly embrace.

'Ugh when I turn into a zombie, I'm in this form for several hours until the morning. So I try my best to stay alone to avoid survivors or any human AS POSSIBLE. Guess I'll sit here, or wander around her until I can lock myself in a closet, cover my nose with something as I sleep. Zombies have a great sense of smell, alongside mine.'

In the eerie afterglow of the crimson moon, which now peered through the shattered glass ceiling of the devastated mall, a chilling silence descended. Dust spiraled in the beams of moonlight, painting ghostly swirls in the night air. This moment of tranquility was shattered as the entrance echoed with the sharp click of heels against the scattered debris.

She emerged from the shadows like a vision crafted from the dark fantasies of the nightâ€"the embodiment of mystery and danger. 

Her name was Seven. 

The black dress she wore clung to her like a second skin, cut daringly low at the back to reveal a canvas of pale skin with two dagger tattoos on her back. A large, intricate tattoo of a viper, glowing red, snaked across her face, its forked tongue flickering near her lips. Her long black hair cascaded in waves down her back, framing her striking dark green eyes that scanned the devastation. Her presence commanded the air, heavy with the scent of blood and gunpowder.

As she stepped forward, the heel of her black stiletto crushed a fallen bullet casing underfoot, its echo ringing out like a gunshot in the stillness. Her dark eyes fixed on the figure atop the pile of destruction. Rykei, the zombie, who till now had been the harbinger of death for any who dared approach.

Rykei's red eyes met Seven's emerald gaze, and a deep, guttural growl tore from his throat, a sound dredged up from the abyss of his transformed soul. Instincts corrupted by his zombie nature surged, driving him forward with a burst of supernatural speed that sent cascades of debris flying. His approach was a blur, a dark comet trailing dust.

'Is that..Seven? When the FUCK did she get a face tattoo?! Wait! I can't speak normally in this form! Dammit! I can feel the bloodlust..no…no…no..don't you dare! Not right now! Please, sir! I'm calling my zombie side a sir..I'm going crazy. But no, don't do anything! I can't think straight! Even with that tattoo on her face, she's still beautiful..damn.'

"RAGH!" Rykei growled as he charged forward.

'Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Okay this isn't funny! Shit! What can I do?!'

As Rykei charged, Seven's posture shifted into one of composed readiness. There was no fear in her stance, only the calm certainty of a storm about to break. With a graceful turn, she reached behind her back to touch the skin where two daggers were tattooed, glowing faintly green. In a fluid motion that blurred the line between magic and reality, her fingers grasped the hilts, and with a swift pull, the daggers materialized into her hands, their blades jagged and shimmering with a venomous light.

'Whoa…' Rykei thought in amazement. 

Rykei's growl intensified, his eyes flaming with red fury, his every muscle coiled as he leapt toward the solitary figure of Seven. But as the moon cast her ominous light upon him, the floor beneath him burst open. From the debris, figures emerged a quartet of survivors, each flipping acrobatically into the air. Mid-spin, they extracted blow darts, aiming with precise lethality. The darts hissed through the air, a deadly chorus, as Rykei's form was mid-leap, his expression turning from rage to confusion.

The darts struck true, embedding in his neck and arms. A potent tranquilizer coursed through his veins, a concoction strong enough to subdue even his enhanced form. His leap faltered, and as he crumpled to the ground, his body hit the floor in a heavy, defeated slump.

Seven stood unflinching, her daggers still ready, her breath even. The shadows seemed to cling to her, as if even the darkness itself was an ally. Her eyes never left Rykei, watching as his chest heaved with shallow, ragged breaths. Slowly, she sheathed her daggers back into the tattoos on her skin, which absorbed them back into nonexistence. Her team still hovered around, weapons trained on the fallen Rykei. The flicker of victory glistened in Seven's eyes, but it was tempered by a steel-like resolve, knowing well this night was far from over.

As she stepped toward Rykei, each of her movements resonated with a warrior's grace. The moonlight shifted, spotlighting her, the viper tattoo on her face glowing ominously, as if it too watched the fallen adversary. Rykei, now subdued and tranquilized, was just another shadow in the ruins of what had been a battlefield, with Seven, a new enigma, ready to write the next chapter.

Seven said to her companions, "I was going to kill this abnormal zombie."

"We know you're one of the leaders of the Brigade, but your boyfriend Jin said otherwise. He saw him kill the assassin zombies, and said he did it effortlessly, he thinks he has potential, he can be studied."

Seven replied, "He is not my boyfriend. My boyfriend is no more..he's dead."

"That's right, you haven't seen him since the zombies came and everyone started becoming all like superheroes."

"Yes. I assume the worst. He has to be. Wasn't that  strong, or fast. I'm leaving now. Zombie assassins all over this area."