Walking Dead Season 4 Video Game Novels & Stories

That debt had to be settled properly. Three days later, on a stormy night with pouring rain, a battered armored vehicle—barely holding together—smashed through the gates of the villa complex. Callie and Dan crawled out of the car, covered in mud and looking utterly miserable. Behind them, more than a dozen mutated zombies were chasing them. “Help! Is anyone there? Help!” Callie screamed, her voice hoarse. Dan gripped a machete in his hand, but it was useless against mutated zombies.

The world should end on a Monday. There’s something honest about that. Brutal, yes, but clean. A Monday already has the emotional texture of damp socks and unpaid bills, so adding zombies feels less like a cosmic betrayal and more like management escalating a complaint. Unfortunately, the world chooses Thursday at 6:17 p.m., while Maya Rodriguez is standing barefoot in her kitchen, trying to decide whether expired sour cream is a negotiable concept. “It smells fine,” Dex says from behind her.

We were on high alert all the way. The emergency lights were strobing, threatening to fizz out at any moment. The air was thick with the stench of blood and the rancor of rotten flesh. The growls of zombies added to the noise in the air. Right when we were about to arrive at the exit, a familiar voice called out for help, "Help! Please!" We checked out the source of the shout and realized it was Yves. He was trapped in a corner, and three zombies were tearing his flesh out. His right arm was ripped from his torso, and blood spurted like a fountain.

Darren was pretty sure every bone in his body was broken. The teleport scroll had dumped him in a reeking swamp, half-buried in sludge. He clawed free, coughing up black blood and bits of his own guts, his face a mess of fear and rage. "Eve...Evelyn Shaw," he spat. "Four S-rank bosses... marching out for one stupid delivery NPC? Are you kidding me?" His squad—years of grinding, gone. Now he was just roadkill.

She led him with a solemnity that bade everyone else be quiet and grave, also, as he marked the forehead of the first Werewolf. Red went down the line, making a small cut on the pad of each member’s thumb, pressing it into his own corresponding wound, before applying it with small, sure strokes to their foreheads. “This will now mark them as dead, and grant you all of their given powers, for as long as the blood remains.” Grandma intoned. “So now, when you tell their leader that the Pack are all dead, you will not be lying. This will buy you some time.” Red nodded, saying nothing. There was nothing more to say.

Everyone held their weapons close, ready to put our lives on the line. Explosions and gunshots kept coming from above, and the sound of the walls collapsing was deafening. The ground seemed to tremble under the force. On the fourth day, the noise abruptly stopped. We gathered nervously and stared at the door to the underground shelter. It slowly opened to reveal an exhausted soldier. "The wave of zombies has been dealt with. You can all come out now." Everyone cheered, and we slowly filed out of the shelter. The air outside smelled of gunpowder.

"A fake corpse has been set up. Later, someone will set the room on fire. Just leave without worry." I nodded. The moment I stepped out, a loud boom exploded behind me. Flames shot skyward, and the heat hit my face. I didn't look back. I followed the man to the black car waiting outside the estate. As the car pulled away from Costa Estate, I stole one last glance through the window at the inferno. The place that had trapped me for eight long years was now being consumed by flames. "Signorina, your wounds need attention." The bodyguard in the front handed me a first-aid kit.

"The greatest evil unknowingly resided in the womb of the greatest good ever known alive. Until that day. The darkness in her, choked away every light of hope and happiness from her eyes. " - Book 3 - The Annihilation 6 months later, The Werewolf Castle 11:59 pm

Her gray-blue face seemed a little less stiff, but the confusion and wounded look in her eyes still weighed heavily. [System prompt: Hunger is spreading. Proceed to Dorm 4404 to obtain food.] [Warning: 4404’s resident is extremely dangerous! Severely starved!] The live chat was going wild with messages. [4404? Oh no, that’s the Hungry Dead! Granny just escaped the freezer, and now, she’s walking straight into famine!] [That ghost is so hungry it even gnaws on itself! With Granny’s old bones, she’s done for!] I rubbed my empty stomach and steadied my aching back as I climbed off the bed.

“It said that Reive Eridanus had somehow united his life with that of the undead. And while this bone creature’s alive, the Undead King will live as well.” For some time, everyone fell silent in the marquee. Zomzom heard only the tread of his own feet. “It means we must just kill this monster,” the fourth man said. “Nothing complicated, right?” “Indeed,” someone snorted in response. “Just overwhelming a higher undead, taking into account our mages can hardly beat a zombie.” The man’s voice was full of contempt. “With all due respect,” someone interrupted him, “killing a zombie won’t be any trouble.”