Chapter 1: Born From Blood

When I woke up, blood was covering my body. Panicking, I jumped up and tried throwing it off. Except I couldn't. It wasn't my blood, and I don't think it belonged to anyone here because it looked like I was alone in a desert.

Was I shocked after seeing a giant medieval-looking tower swarmed by ants? They were so high up that I could barely see them. The building had hundreds, no thousands of little ovals crawling through each other. But then one of these things fell, and I realized this wasn't a bug.

It was a fucking rotten, bony, zombified bastard who snarled once it saw me. Missing it's lower body from the fall, it dragged itself towards me. It grasped the ground with an unrelenting hunger.

"What the hell," I thought. When did dying in random places become my specialty? Turning my head, I noticed that besides the tower, zombies, and endless sand, there was nothing else.

While I was busy thinking, the zombie kept crawling like a monster escaping hell. I had nothing to use as a weapon but my body, and there was no way I was going anywhere near its head.

Great, now I had to do something about it, but I instead chose to head into the building. Zagging around the zombie, I carefully walked towards the tower. Fear gripped me as I crouched my way towards it. I was praying that the hive of zombie wall flowers won't start raining down on me.

I got close to the tower and noticed that besides stone, there wasn't much left. Looking up, I breathed a sigh of relief that no more zombies fell. The only one I had to worry about was the last. Who was so slow I felt terrible for it.

The tower seemed to have no entrance from my side. Maybe I should survey the other sides. It took a couple of minutes, but apparently, there was no door for me to use.

While I was busy wondering how to get inside, I heard a nasty snarl.

"Shit, damn zombie."

And just in time for the flesh festival was the hive of undead directly above.

I ran as fast as I could, hoping to get a head start on the mob. But each step on the sand wasn't doing a good job getting me farther from the tower or the zombies. Zombies who, while too stupid to climb down, didn't have a problem with crashing down into each other trying to get down.

Pretty soon, I had an entire mob chasing me. The only things here were the tower, and I needed to find help.

I couldn't help but curse at my situation.

Using evasive tactics, I led my pursuers like a parade marching down a street. Except parades never scared the shit of me like these guys do.

All I could hear was loud snarls and the thumping of their steps. I turned my head and wished it was my bastard of a brother running for his life. I wished it was his body being ripped apart piece by fucking piece.

My feet gave out, and I tripped. Toppling towards me, I knew this was my last chance at life. Bye, cruel world...

Expecting my body to be torn apart by starving zombies, I opened my eyes, but nothing happened.

I was in front of the tower and covered in blood. The same building, followed by the same blood stained clothes, were with me.

"What the hell just happened."