Apocalypse: King of Zombies

The burly man was rough and impatient, yanking the boy's shirt open to reveal his gaunt ribs. His body was covered in bruises, purple and blue, with clear marks of pinches and bites. It was obvious he'd been tormented for a long time.

"Let me go!" The young man struggled fiercely.

But the burly man was a Strength-type Awakener, broad and heavyset. He held the boy down like he was nothing more than a chick in his grip.

"Heh heh heh, the more you fight back, the stronger I get."

The boy clenched his teeth, his eyes burning with hatred, but there was nothing he could do.

Just as the man was about to take things further, panic flashed in the boy's eyes. A sharp glint of determination appeared, and suddenly, he opened his mouth and sank his teeth into the man's forearm.

"Argh—!"

The man let out a howl of pain, instinctively loosening his grip. Blood poured from the bite wound, dripping down his arm.

"You little bastard, you bit me?!"

The man was furious, raising his hand to strike.

But the boy seized the moment. He drove his knee into the man's stomach with a dull thud, forcing the brute to stumble back a few steps, momentarily thrown off balance.

It became clear then—the boy was an Awakener too. Using the brief opening, he scrambled to his feet and leapt toward the window, smashing through it and bolting outside.

He moved like lightning, leaving afterimages in his wake as he sprinted into the distance. His speed was clearly enhanced, a gift of his Awakening.

"Damn it! He's running! Get him!" the man roared furiously.

In this community, there were plenty of other Awakeners from the Black Hand Legion. Hearing the commotion, they poured out one after another.

"Who's trying to make a break for it?"

"Oh, it's that kid Aaron again!"

"Guess he hasn't had enough beatings yet!" Explore more at My Virtual Library Empire

"..."

Their faces twisted into cruel grins.

Aaron, however, kept running, his eyes fixed on the path leading out of the community. It was as if he could see a glimmer of hope at the end of it.

No matter what, he had to escape this hellhole.

But suddenly, the ground trembled. Several earthen walls shot up from the ground, blocking his path.

Aaron's brows furrowed. Without hesitation, he leapt, aiming to vault over the walls.

But a fist was already waiting for him.

Bam!

The punch landed squarely on his face, sending him crashing back to the ground. The impact rattled his skull, and the fall left him winded, his insides feeling like they'd been rearranged.

Dazed, he looked up.

A middle-aged man stood atop the earthen wall, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The Black Hand Legion tattoo on his jaw seemed to writhe as he looked down at Aaron with a cold, mocking gaze.

It was the guard stationed at the community's entrance.

By now, the other Black Hand Legion members had surrounded Aaron, cutting off any chance of escape.

"Hmph! Still trying to run, huh? You never learn."

"Just like his sister. The two of them are exactly the same."

"Maybe we should just cook them both and be done with it."

"Why can't he just accept his fate? If he'd just submit to us, he might actually have a decent life."

"Forget it. I'm gonna go have some fun with his sister. Heh heh heh."

"..."

Aaron squinted, scanning the disgusting faces around him. His fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms. The fury in his heart was about to boil over.

But insults and mockery weren't all they had in store for him. A beating was inevitable.

The burly man from earlier, now shirtless, pushed his way through the crowd. Without a word, he raised his leg and drove a heavy kick into Aaron's stomach.

"Run! Go on, run!" The burly man sneered as Aaron's body curled up like a shrimp, his stomach spasming in unbearable pain.

Another brutal kick sent Aaron skidding several feet across the ground, leaving a fresh trail of blood and dust in his wake.

Aaron's injuries piled up.

"I… I'll fight you to the death!" he growled through gritted teeth, forcing the words out as he struggled to get up. But before he could even rise, a massive hand came down on him.

Smack!

Blood spurted from Aaron's nose and mouth as the slap sent him crashing back to the ground.

"Fight me? You think you've got what it takes?" The man loomed over him, his voice dripping with mockery before he launched into another round of punches and kicks.

Aaron's body cracked and popped under the assault, the sound of breaking bones echoing in the air. His ribs, his arms—he couldn't even tell how many were fractured anymore.

The man didn't stop. His rage only grew as he glanced at the bite mark on his arm, the teeth marks still fresh and bleeding. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and his blows grew even more vicious.

"You bit me?! You dare bite me?! I'll make you regret it!" Each word was punctuated by a devastating strike to Aaron's battered body.

The strength of a physical-type Awakener was monstrous. In mere moments, Aaron was reduced to a bloodied, barely breathing heap, his life hanging by a thread.

"Enough. Don't kill him. If he dies, he won't be any fun anymore," the tattooed man on the earthen wall finally spoke, his tone casual, as if commenting on the weather.

The burly man panted heavily, his chest heaving like a raging bull. He hesitated for a moment before grunting, "Fine."

He grabbed Aaron's limp body like a ragdoll, dragging him back toward the brick house. A dark trail of blood followed them, staining the dirt path.

The man had lost all interest in Aaron after beating him to this state. Without a second glance, he tossed the boy into a damp, musty cellar, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Humph. I'll go find your sister instead. She looks just like you, after all…" The man's voice trailed off as he walked away, his laughter echoing faintly in the distance.

...

The cellar was pitch black, the air thick with humidity and the stench of rot. It was suffocating.

Aaron lay in a pool of his own blood, his breathing shallow and labored. If not for the tenacity granted by his Awakener abilities, he would've been dead already.

But his heart burned with hatred, a fire that refused to be extinguished.

The Black Hand Legion had slaughtered his parents. They had violated his sister. And now, they wanted him to bow to them? To submit? Never. Not in a million years.

The weight of his grief and rage pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. His mind replayed every moment of his suffering, every injustice, every humiliation.

"Damn it!" Aaron's voice cracked as he cursed, his fists weakly clenching. But no matter how much he hated them, no matter how much he wanted revenge, he was powerless. Completely and utterly powerless.

The flames of vengeance roared in his chest, but they only served to remind him of his own weakness. He hated them, yes—but he hated himself even more for being so helpless.

What could he do? What could he possibly do?

"Do you desire power?" A low, chilling voice suddenly echoed through the darkness, like a devil whispering in his ear.

"Huh? Who's there?!" Aaron's eyes widened in shock. Was he hallucinating? Had the beating scrambled his brain? There was no way anyone else could be in this cellar.

But then, out of the shadows, a tall, slender figure emerged. The man's face was strikingly handsome, his expression cold and detached. He wore a pristine white shirt that seemed to glow against the oppressive darkness.

Aaron stared, dumbfounded. His mind went blank.

This man—no, this being—was unlike anything he'd ever seen. He was immaculate, untouched by the filth and despair of the world around him.

"Is this… a demon?" Aaron whispered to himself, his voice trembling.

He had heard stories before, fantastical tales of people consumed by hatred so deep that it summoned demons to their side. These demons would offer power in exchange for their soul or body, granting them the strength to exact their revenge. But the price was eternal damnation.

"Do you want revenge?" the man—no, the demon—asked, his voice calm and steady.

"I do! I do!" Aaron shouted, his voice hoarse but filled with desperation. Somehow, he found the strength to sit up, his bloodied body trembling with effort. He didn't care about the cost. He didn't care if he had to sell his soul or his body. He didn't even care if he died the moment after. As long as he could take revenge, he would do anything.

"Good." The man nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He had waited for this moment, for Aaron to reach the peak of his despair. It was only at this point, when someone was utterly broken, that they could be molded and controlled.

"Swear your loyalty to me, and I will give you the power to destroy them."

"Deal!" Aaron didn't hesitate for even a second. He dropped from his sitting position to his knees, bowing his head in submission.

The man's smile widened ever so slightly. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a vial containing a strange, glowing substance—the G-Virus.

"Take this. And then… kill them all."

...