1
Zeph
Chaos. Carnage. Streaks of red in the white snow.
Central Arcanum is a mess. It’s as if a doorway to hell has been opened and demons were set free to wreak havoc.
I’m caught in a blizzard and blinded by snowflakes and taillights, my eyes squinting as I try to take in the scene in pieces. It’s all too damn much, otherwise.
There’s a massive pile-up of cars on the road. Some still have their engines running, others stand smashed from collisions caused by rubberneckers or panicked drivers slamming on their brakes. Currently, there’s a lane of traffic moving very slowly. The other lanes remain at a standstill, as they have for hours.
We’re waiting for additional emergency responders to arrive and clean up the mess, but the process has been slow as shit.
A lot of the cars were abandoned as soon as people saw what was happening. They saw the zombies tearing people’s fucking limbs off like they were little dolls, saw the traffic and knew they’d be sitting ducks.
So they fled on foot.
Not all of them got far. The trails of blood and viscera are proof of that.
My stomach turns and I have to take a bunch of deep breaths to avoid adding to the mess at my feet. The air is bitterly cold, and it stings my teeth. I welcome the distraction.
Anything’s better than focusing on what went down here.
It was a damn nightmare.
The sights and thesoundsof tonight are going to haunt me for a long fucking time.
Ripping flesh. Tearing.
Screaming.
People’s bodies are so damnwet.You never realize until it’s shoved right under your nose.
Fuck.
We did our best to hold the zombies off. Even when they seemed to be endlessly appearing from the sewers, more and more of them in increasingly decayed states. Some were nothing more than rage and bone. Others were walking corpses.
All were mindless. Lethal. Monstrous.
And then, after what felt like hours of fighting them off, they dropped. Collapsed into the snow like whatever had been powering them had its switch flipped.
Since then, I’ve been stomping through the snow, dragging survivors out of the car and helping them get home. Covering up the bodies of the ones that are beyond saving.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
Fuck knows what actually happened here tonight. I’ve not been able to get in contact with anyone for at least an hour. And I haven’t seen Roscoe, or Rook, or Hanna since right after the zombies fell.
Last thing I saw, Hanna was using her fire to keep people warm and Rook was forcing a dented car door to open with his brute strength. It doesn’t help that I can barely see more than a few feet in front of me, thanks to the blizzard. I could use mymagic to clear it, but I’m not willing to burn myself fighting a blizzard.
I’m heading toward another car with its engine running when I hear a sound that stops me in my tracks,
A whimper.
It’s high-pitched. Frightened.
Childlike.
I glance around, my eyes smarting as snow blasts me in the face. I’m right on the edge of the pavement with an alleyway behind me, scouting around to try to find the source of the sound.
