Zombie Apocalypse Game Novels & Stories

“Fuck. You weren’t kidding when you said you just started dating, huh?” I get my phone from the coffee table and sit on the couch. Bobby starts to walk forward, but I hold out my hand. “Take off your shoes. And your socks. Actually, hang on.” I hurry down the hall and grab a pair of socks from my drawer and a sheet from the closet. Call me paranoid, but the time Bobby brought home bed bugs is still seared into my memory. He’s still standing in the small foyer when I get back, looking around the apartment like he’s trying to figure out where he is.

Their eyes were empty, unfocused, and they were both wearing a strange, hollow smile. The rescue team leader stepped forward. "Mr. Sands? Mrs. Sands?" Dad suddenly clutched the tin of spam against his chest and shrank backward, his eyes wide. "Shh. Be quiet," he whispered, his voice shaking. "There are zombies out there. Going outside means death. "This is the last of our food. We have to ration it. We have to make it last." Mom nodded along beside him, completely serious. "One less mouth to feed. You'll get to live a few more days."

like my brain blue-screened. Then the flood hit. Notifications exploded across my HUD like a slot machine jackpot. [SYSTEM NOTICE: Congrats! The Omniscient Core just dropped you a gift!] [Your ride, Phantom Scooter → Chronorider!] [Effect: Blows through every wall, shield, or weird cosmic lock. If you think it, you're there.] [SYSTEM NOTICE: Hidden title unlocked: The Omnigourmet!] [Effect: Every non-hostile mob auto-spawns with a "Friendly" tag.]

This is where the show fails people, because no sane human will follow these rules entirely. However, They will follow these rules precisely and all the way through. Those hundred thousand dollars are theirs. Even Yanlong on the phone could hear what they were thinking. "Get weapons of some sort. A katana is best, but a steel rod or metal baseball bat works just the same. Zombies have black teeth and green eyes. Their eyes are luminous. Zombies who have turned just now are slow. At the same time, if they have super powers, they will not be slow at all.

After a night of the cold front's purge, the survivor count had settled at 5,000,211. Another two million gone. The ones who'd made it through had clearly woken up to the game's brutality. [Buying Universal Fuel!] [Buying tires! Mine are almost shredded!] [That monster last night was terrifying. My door nearly got ripped off. I need to upgrade my sports car!] ... Ten minutes later, Jake closed the system. From the chatter, he'd gathered some useful intel. Killing zombies dropped upgrade blueprints, Universal Fuel, weapons, bread, water, razors, medicine...

This was, without a doubt, the best reunion ever! I settled Lily by the fireplace to get warm. Just then, the robotic voice sounded again: [Initial Players: 40; Survivors: 25.] Fifteen players. Dead already. And all they did was pick a room. I opened the system panel and squinted at the screen to read the small text. Players were swapping intel in the main channel, talking about how the others died. [Muscly_Tommy]: Holy shit! The werewolf on the third floor tore that football player to pieces! Blood all over the walls!

He calmly flicked the select-fire switch on his weapon to “full automatic.” The door gave way with a loud screech. Metal and the stacked contents of the storage facility flew in all directions. Blue and grey undead swarmed into the space. Zombie infantry men opened up with Springfields and Whitworths. A couple of enterprising young ghouls busied themselves setting up a Gatling gun. Game on, thought Roo again as he and Fernández opened up on the invaders at the exact same time. J 12:33 before daybreak They were almost out of ammo.

I said, even though I didn’t have any money left. But I could sell the villa—it's mine. I heard a mocking laugh. And that was all. No one talked. The front screen lit again and a running red font appeared simultaneously with the sound from earlier: [Congratulations! You have been selected for the Survival Game. Make sure you entertain your audience to get extra hearts.] A chill ran down my spine. Adrenaline peaked to its climax and my body trembled. “Extra what?” I snapped. But it seemed nobody cared to answer.

She couldn't help but poke it, and the feel was also very good. I don't want to be shot in the stomach no matter how it looks. But in her memory, the scene of four bullet holes bleeding outward was too clear, and the bright red blood seemed to be right in front of her. She shook her head and poked again to confirm that it was really intact. Really crazy, is it possible that there is a fifth generation of zombies that carry a virus that causes hallucinations, and this boy in front of me is actually a zombie? She patted her face to make herself more conscious.

"Unfortunately, a virus was accidentally leaked from a microscopic biology facility, and the infection's propagation has become widespread. Anyone infected with this virus will lose their sanity and transform into something resembling a cannibal. This virus has been reported to spread in the human body for around thirty-six hours. Symptoms include coughing, sneezing hard as if you have rhinitis, excessive weariness, dehydration, and yellowing of the body's skin. This is to inform you that you should remain in your homes till further notice is given. Avoid interaction with anybody and try not to go out as much as possible. The rescuers will arrive at any time and take you one by one. Just wai