They made their way to the room furthest from the door—the bathroom. They dragged a chair in behind them and wedged it under the knob, adding an extra barrier to the already locked door.
Jose followed last, puffing and wheezing as the adrenaline wore off.
Sweat streamed down his face. He wiped it away with a shaky hand, pulled out his phone—and saw the dead screen.
"No power," he muttered.
"Either of your phones working? Maybe there's news—something to tell us what the hell's going on."
Both pulled out their phones. Same result.
The young man plugged his into a wall charger tucked behind the sink. Nothing. He frowned, flicked the light switch. Still nothing.
"There's no power is there?" Jose asked quietly.
The young man didn't speak. He just shook his head, slow and stiff, like the words wouldn't come.
The woman's voice cracked. "No… no, no, that's not—" Her hands trembled. "We can't… we can't be stuck here. No phone. No help. Nothing. What if that demon thing breaks the door down and eats us…"
Her words broke whatever dam had held her together. She slid to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
The young man slumped down, his back against the wall, head hanging. The spark of survival in his eyes had vanished. "What the fuck is happening…"
Jose leaned against the counter, knees and arms throbbing from smashing into the glass door. Head spinning, he felt the heavy shadow of panic, its claws sinking deep. His depression whispered in the back of his skull:
"There's no escape. Give up. No one's looking for you. No one's waiting."
But no. He clenched his fists. He wasn't going to break—not now. Not again.
If this was the end of the world, then he'd fight it to the last breath. For these survivors. For his family. For his honor.
Squaring his jaw as he pushed the negative thoughts and feelings down, he put his hand on the woman's shoulder. "It'll be okay, we'll find a way. None of us will die here today… That, I promise you."
She looked up at him, eyes wet, but clearer. She gave a small nod and squeezed his hand. "Thank you," she whispered.
"How?" Asked the young man. He'd been staring at the floor despondently and was now looking up at the others. "How are we going to make it through this?" He asked again.
Jose didn't answer right away, "We need to breathe, then plan." He lowered himself beside the young man and offered his hand.
"I'm Jose."
The young man stared at his hand for a few seconds as if making up his mind whether to place his trust in the man or not. He gave a barely imperceptible nod as he seemed to come to a decision and took Jose's hand. "I'm Rashon. You're right—we need to breathe, then plan."
They stood and turned to the woman who was now much calmer. She wiped her tears and gave a forced half smile as she also nodded, "Maya."
They each found space to sit, the silence humming with fatigue and dread. Time passed in slow, jagged breaths.
After a few seconds, Rashon snapped his fingers. "The police station. I totally forgot—it's a few blocks from here. If we can get outside…"
"Yeah, this might be an isolated incident or some sort of virus or something," Jose's eyes lit up.
Maya opened the curtains. Her breath caught.
They all leaned toward the window—and froze.
The world outside was… Different.
Cars were scattered across the road like forgotten toys. People stood frozen in unnatural stillness.
Many buildings were shattered, their windows blown out. Some were swallowed by vines, others crumbled like ruins from another age.
In the distance, massive trees stretched into the sky, too big, too alien.
Gunshots cracked through the air, and smoke billowed far to the left.
"The police station is in that direction, isn't it?" Asked Jose.
"It is," Rashon answered unsteadily.
"Good. At least now we know that we are not the only survivors and that someone is fighting back against these monsters," added Jose with as much confidence as he could lend to his voice.
"Let's get a bit more rest then see what we can do about getting out there. No matter what it looks like, the plan hasn't changed. We will need weapons and people who can use them if we are to survive whatever this is." He added as he began to turn away from the window.
Before he could take a step, they heard gunshots from across the street in the direction they had come from.
"Down!" Jose hissed, dragging them from the window.
They crawled back and peered through the glass again.
A police officer stumbled out of a building. Blood poured from a deep gash in his arm. He darted toward the parking lot, diving behind a car.
Behind him—zombies. More than before.
The officer raised his gun, fired. One of the creatures dropped, shot clean through the head. The others staggered, some wounded—but they kept coming.
Fast.
Smarter than they should be.
They split into two groups, flanking him.
"Oh God," Maya whispered.
The officer emptied his clip. The gun clicked. He reached for something else—but it was too late.
The zombies swarmed. They tackled him, pinned him. One grabbed an arm, another a leg, and they pulled.
His scream—pure agony—ripped through the air.
Then silence.
A wet, tearing sound followed as his body was ripped apart. Each creature claimed a limb. The rest devoured the remains.
They couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
"Wha… What is that thing?" Maya asked her voice barely a whisper, her hands trembling as she pointed.
They turned to find a massive creature trotting down the street toward the feeding frenzy. A Doberman—but horse-sized, with bulging muscle, black scales, and a spiked, reptilian tail. It growled low and deep.
The zombies didn't see it until it was on top of them.
It barked.
A concussive blast slammed into the group. Several heads burst like overripe fruit. Others were launched backward, limbs flailing.
The survivors charged.
But the monster barely flinched. Its tail whipped forward, impaling heads. It bit one clean in half. Claws ripped through flesh like paper.
In seconds, the street was silent again.
The beast sniffed the officer's remains, grabbed the biggest chunk, and trotted away.
They stared. For a time, no one said a word.
"Magic?" Maya finally whispered.
Jose didn't answer right away. "I don't know. Zombies were bad enough. Now we've got… that."
He slumped down. "Whatever's happening, surviving it just got harder."
***
"Do either of you remember what happened? How things got this way, or when? Or even what you were doing before this?" Asked Jose after a time, breaking the silence that had enveloped them.
The others shook their heads in quiet contemplation. What had they been doing before waking up here? How had the world gotten like this overnight? How could they forget an event that would bring the world to such a state?
Jose stared at the wall. The images outside played on loop behind his eyes. People frozen. Monsters. Ash. Death.
Something was deeply wrong—and they were missing pieces.
Their only solace in the situation was that the earlier commotion outside had drawn the monster at the door away from them. Or, at least it seemed that way, as they could no longer hear her.
"I don't know about you two, but I need to get high," stated Rashon as if he'd already resigned himself to this new existence.
He walked out of the bathroom to do just that and reached for a jar on top of the fridge. He opened it and scrunched up his nose, "What the fuck?"
"What happened?" Both Jose and Maya asked in tandem, instantly on their feet, walking over to him.
Rashon handed the jar to the others for a good look. Jose grabbed the jar and brought it closer to inspect, the dammed weed moved on its own.
Instincts kicking in, he slammed the jar on the floor smashing it to pieces, frantically stomping and grounding all of it to dust and paste.
"Fuck me!" He half-yelled, half-whispered—catching himself halfway through—exasperated and unnerved.
Things just kept getting crazier and crazier. First, they woke up who knows where. Then, they witness a zombie apocalypse. Then, some kind of hellhound makes short work of said zombies. And now, weed had become some kind of sludge monster and tried to jump out at him.
Before he could recover, a chime rang in his ears—and pain exploded through his limbs.
He dropped to his knees. His heart seized, his vision went white. His body locked, then convulsed, black sludge pouring from his mouth. He gasped.
A voice echoed in his head.
User Interface Protocol initiated…
You have defeated a Slime Variant.
Galvanization Protocol initiated…
A screen appeared before him.
[Health: 200/200 Ether: 20/20
Level: 1
Soul: Ancient
Race: Sapient
Genus: None
Species: None
Strength: 5
Constitution: 6
Endurance: 8
Agility: 8
Dexterity: 8
Awareness: 10
Wisdom: 7
Capacity: 12
Free Points: 4
Skills: Strike]
"What the hell just happened?" He asked, groggy and disoriented as he tried to stand on wobbly legs.
"You okay?" Rashon asked, helping him up.
"You suddenly screamed and fell to your knees vomiting—whatever that disgusting stuff is." Added Maya with concern in her voice.
"I… I'm not sure, but I feel… lighter somehow. Can you guys see this?" He asked looking at the screen floating in the air before him.
"See what? The possessed weed?" Asked Rashon.
"No, there is some type of hologram in front of my face. It's like a status page or something."
"You mean like in video games or anime?" Asked Maya.
"I—guess so?" Answered Jose, vaguely familiar with the anime reference. He was a fan of fantasy stories, anime, and games but had not read a book, watched cartoons, or played a game in a long time.
"Isekai?" Rashon said with a dry, shaky laugh. "Man, if this is another world, it sucks."
They laughed, briefly.
Then silence again.
The truth hit hard.
This was real.
And it was just beginning.
Jose looked around the room. Rashon and Maya. Two young strangers.
He was older—more tired—but alive.
And they needed him.
His family…
Needed him.
He always shouldered more than he should. That had been his flaw. Too responsible. Too rigid. It had pushed people away.
But it didn't matter now.
All that mattered was getting to his family.
"I'm sorry," Jose said somberly. "I have to go. There are people I need to get to. I'll get you both to the police station, but then I have to go—Do you have any weapons in the apartment Rashon?"
"I think we all do—Have people we need to get to, that is," interjected Maya softly.
"I do have some swords, but they are meant to be decorations at best," answered Rashon.
He took a pensive stance while adding, "The campus police office is at the back of that building though. If we can manage to get back there safely, maybe we'll find plenty of guns…"
"If we get those," Maya said, "we don't need to go to the police station. We can all head out and find our families."
Jose nodded. "Then that's the plan."