The Church of Star-City
Mark - 107
Michael - 59
Martin - 12
Mario - 12
The journey to the city had been a nightmare. What had once been a thriving metropolis was now a broken husk, the ruins of Star-City looming like skeletal giants over the empty streets. We had left the base behind after supplies ran low and the defenses failed. I wasn't alone on this trek—there was Mark, who had taken a nasty hit on our way out, and the kids, Michael and Martin, barely old enough to carry their packs, and Mario, the youngest, no more than a scared twelve-year-old trying to stay brave.
Mark was limping badly, his leg wrapped in makeshift bandages. Infection was a constant threat, but there wasn't much we could do until we found a safe place to rest. The streets were quiet, too quiet. The kind of quiet that wrapped around your throat like a noose and made every step feel like your last. We needed shelter. Somewhere we could breathe without watching every shadow.
Houses were out of the question. Too risky. Some were already taken, others were nests for things that should no longer exist. The last thing we needed was to barge into a den of corrupted.
Then I saw it. A church.
Its steeple was partially collapsed, and the roof was riddled with holes. It was no fortress, but it stood tall and proud amidst the chaos. I had a bad history with birds since the fall—those little feathery bastards had become deadly in this world, especially the ones with their eyes glowing that faint red hue.
Still, the church was the best option. I told Mark and the kids to wait outside. If this place was safe, we could make it our own. If it wasn't, I didn't want them walking into a deathtrap.
My heart thundered in my chest as I approached the large wooden doors. One was cracked open slightly, and I pushed it gently. It creaked, loud and sharp, and I winced at the sound. Inside, the church was a mess. Chairs were overturned and broken, some shattered into splinters. The altar was stained and half-collapsed. Dust covered everything, but it was the clean spots that made me pause.
Three distinct trails in the dust. Footprints. Someone, or something, had been here recently. One path led directly to the back of the church. The other two looped and intersected. Was it just one person pacing? Or three different individuals?
I didn't dare call out. Noise was a death sentence in this world. My grip tightened around the steel pipe I carried. It was old, rusted in places, but it had saved me before.
I moved slowly, each step deliberate. The silence was oppressive. Halfway through the main hall, I heard it—a low growl. Not the guttural snarl of a corrupted human. This was something else. Something unnatural.
I froze.
From the back room, something leapt out with terrifying speed. My instincts screamed at me, and I barely had time to raise the pipe. The creature barreled toward me on all fours, its movements twitchy and erratic. My first thought was that it looked like a monkey, but not one I'd ever seen before.
It had no fur. Its skin was dark and leathery, stretched over an emaciated frame. Its face—if you could call it that—was a nightmare. One large eye bulged from its forehead. The sockets where a nose and ears should have been were just gaping holes, and its mouth bore a few jagged, yellowed teeth.
I swung the pipe with all my strength, catching it across the head. The impact jarred my arms and nearly knocked the weapon free. The thing stumbled but didn't fall. Its skull was tougher than I expected.
It screamed, an ear-piercing wail that made my skin crawl, and swiped at me with clawed hands. I kept my distance, using the pipe to thrust at it. The next jab landed in its eye. The creature reeled, screeching, its good eye flailing about wildly. It wasn't dead, but at least it was blind.
Then I heard it.
Another growl. Then another. Two more shapes emerged from the back.
The first was another monkey-thing, just like the one I had blinded. The second was worse. Much worse.
A corrupted human.
Its flesh was gray, patches of muscle exposed where skin had rotted away. Its eyes were pitch black, and its mouth was stained with old blood. It moved with terrifying speed.
The second monkey rushed first. I met it with another swing, aiming for the eye again. I missed but struck its jaw, dislocating it with a sickening crunch. It shrieked and stumbled.
The evolved human took advantage, charging with inhuman strength. I blocked with the pipe, but the force of the impact knocked me down, the corrupted landing on top of me.
I fought desperately, keeping its snapping jaws from my throat. It was heavy, too strong. I managed to twist to the side, causing its head to smash into the floor. Dazed, it gave me the opening I needed to push it off.
As it tried to rise, the blind monkey tripped over it, tangling them both. I scrambled to my feet, but the second monkey was already lunging.
I thrust the pipe forward, catching it full in the mouth. It impaled itself, and the pipe lodged deep. A strange pulse rippled through the creature, and it collapsed.
One down.
The impaled monkey fell to the side, its limbs twitching. I pulled my knife from its sheath—not ideal, but better than nothing.
The evolved stood again, staring at its fallen comrade before letting out an enraged howl. It charged with terrifying speed. I held the knife tight to my chest and braced.
We collided.
I felt the knife sink into its chest, but its momentum knocked us both to the ground. It looked down, confused at the blade sticking out of it.
I gritted my teeth and pushed, forcing the knife deeper. Its insides began to spill, slick and hot against my hands.
Before I could react, the blind monkey bit into the evolved's neck. They rolled off me in a heap, crashing into the broken pews. Screams filled the air until, suddenly, the monkey fell silent.
The evolved, still alive despite its injuries, stood and crushed the monkey's skull beneath its foot. A second pulse rippled through the church.
Two down.
It turned to me, its movements sluggish. Its intestines hung loosely from the wound, and it struggled to keep its balance. I was still on the ground, panting, blood—not mine, thankfully—soaking my shirt.
It took a step toward me.
Then another.
And then its heart, partially dislodged from the knife wound, fell to the floor with a wet slap. The creature looked down, almost confused.
It collapsed.
A third, stronger pulse emanated from its corpse.
Dead.
I stayed there for a long moment, barely breathing, the world around me still and silent. I had faced death and somehow survived. Three monsters, and I had killed them all. Not through skill, not really. Just desperation. Instinct.
I finally stood, legs trembling. My pipe was ruined, bent and bloodied. My knife was embedded in the corpse. I left it there.