Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The four of us looked around until our eyes converged on Protrusion, and finally looked around us as if asking for help. of and the person opposite. Until the empty space once again fell into darkness, and everyone's face returned to a zombie-like cyan color. "I'm sorry, we're lost." Fatty's expression and tone were very depressed. But I feel better than I am, my mood is one of despair. "Yes, we lost our way." Jack muttered again. "Lost is lost, the direction is not lost, and it is very clear, it is over there." Perhaps thinking that time was running out, Fatty seized every opportunity to attack Jack. Jack didn't dare to confront Fatty at the moment, but he looked down on rough people like Fatty from the bottom of his heart. Jack raised his head proudly and turned his face to me as if ignoring Fatty. Resisted in another way. "We have lost our way. Zhang, can you understand?" Understand what? Lost or why? Or the difference between being lost and being disoriented. I shook my head. My mind is like a ball of mush now, and even my ability to think about problems has plummeted. Several of them once determined the direction while I was asleep. That time, they had been greatly frightened. But at the same time, they had time to recover and think about it. But this was the first time I was shocked by this incident, and I was so confused that I lost my ability to think.
"If that's the case," Jack said somewhat disinterestedly, "what's the next step? Do we keep moving forward, or...?"
My mind was still numb and rigid, incapable of coming up with any good ideas. I was waiting for Jack to give me a suggestion, even if it wasn't a good one. After all, I thought any suggestion would be better than having no idea at all. However, I didn't receive any advice from Jack; it seemed he wasn't presenting a multiple-choice question but rather leaving a blank for me to fill in.
"If there are no other ideas, then let's just keep moving forward. There's no way back anyway." After catching my gaze, Fatty straightforwardly provided a plan.
Even though the space had once again plunged into darkness, I still clearly knew the direction of Protrusion and faced it. On the ground were two marks made by Jack just moments ago—one indicating our forward path and the other pointing toward the protruding landmark. The two were nearly aligned.
Jack's sense of direction was impressive!
Under normal circumstances, I would have taken the opportunity to show off to Fatty; this was one of the few areas where I could boast in front of him. But right now, I had no mood for that.
"Any other ideas?" I gestured slightly at Jack. "If not, we'll continue moving forward."
Jack shook his head and then nodded.
No ideas. Agreed to keep moving forward. Or maybe he was just as stunned as I was.
I wasn't in the mood to guess or ask what his body language meant. In a tired voice, he said, "Stay in formation. Move out."
The formation was tight; I could hear Jack's breathing and the faint glow emanating from Fatty's Glow Stick. Although the light had dimmed by the time it reached me, it indicated that the four of us were very close together.
It was my fault; my pace had slowed down because I had lost confidence in reaching that Protrusion. I even recalled some conversations with Fatty about tomb passages—the prophecy was about to come true; that passage really might become our tomb.
During our breaks, we lost interest in conversation, even Fatty fell silent. We trudged along in silence, resting quietly, trapped in a terrifying vicious cycle. I didn't know what others thought, but I found myself contemplating death; we were walking towards it.
"Damn it. Who's trying to act tough here?" I suddenly heard Fatty shout from behind me as I numbly continued forward.
The only one who could provoke such a roar from Fatty was his lifelong rival: Jack.
I sighed and turned around, only to be met with an unbelievable sight.
Three figures stood behind us, but they were positioned quite far away. Their stances were bizarre; they formed a perfect triangle, facing inward. Their bodies were straight, yet their necks bent at a ninety-degree angle downward, as if they were about to snap. This posture resembled that of a condemned prisoner on the gallows, with a broken neck still bearing the weight of their body.
At that moment, the three figures appeared to be suspended by an invisible rope, their weight entirely supported by the noose around their necks. Their straight bodies and legs showed no sign of bearing any load.
A dimly glowing Glow Stick hung limply in Fatty's hand, casting an eerie light on the figures and illuminating their faces with a deathly pallor.
“ Fatty!” I called out.
In such a silent environment, my voice should have carried far. Yet it seemed to fall on deaf ears; either they couldn't hear me or it was impossible for them to respond.
My throat felt dry and itchy—a clear sign of my extreme tension. I swallowed hard and pulled out my gun from my waist, the sound of the bullet being chambered echoing in the stillness.
I shone my Flashlight toward them but saw no sign of the imagined rope. In truth, I didn’t believe there could be a rope suspending them like that; especially not Fatty, who would find it harder to surrender than to keep quiet.
Yet under the blinding white light of the Flashlight, the three zombie-like figures showed no reaction whatsoever. Their faces were turned downwards, obscured from my view; however, if they had any awareness at all, they should have reacted to such bright light.
The scene was unlike anything Fatty had experienced before. The light shone clearly upon them, yet they showed no reaction. This brought me a slight sense of relief; at least we were in the same time and space.
It was the Zombie Fungus at work. This was the only conclusion I could draw in such a short time, and it prompted me to draw my gun.
I lacked the courage to shoot my friends and teammates, even to end their suffering in an extreme way would be an immense pressure for me. But seeing my friends and teammates transformed into mindless Walking Dead was something I could not tolerate or allow. In this situation, I found the courage to pull the trigger.
The Flashlight and Muzzle were both aimed at the three figures before me as I pressed down on my racing Heart, stepping closer to them one cautious step at a time.
Logically, beings controlled by the Zombie Fungus still retained some consciousness and behavior for a short while. The way these three exhibited such concentrated signs of losing control suggested that they had been infected by the Zombie Fungus earlier, and now it was finally taking effect. This meant that this place was the destination of the Zombie Fungus, and we had brought them here.
Though I approached slowly, their figures quickly became clearer. I could even see the receding hairline on Jack's head and the stubble just starting to grow on Fatty's bald scalp.
Of course, I wouldn’t recklessly fire my weapon; I needed to confirm their condition first, even if it meant risking infection by the Zombie Fungus myself. Moreover, I didn’t believe I would be spared; all three of them had been infected and controlled by it, so it was unlikely that I would be an exception—I just hadn’t succumbed as quickly.
To Be Continued.
Comment 0 Comment Count