Zombie Roleplay Games Novels & Stories

Darkblood Count SMILED. [Okay, this little she-wolf might actually be onto something. No one survives him this long.] That eerie system voice woke me up again: [Initial players: 30. Current players: 15.] One night in, and five were monster food. Three others? They must've gone through something awful. Fear ratings hit 100. Then I got a message from one of the mages, Mara: [Yaya, are you okay? I should've warned you. The first three days, you have to bond with your 'family' fast. This is everything I know—take it as an apology for forcing you onto the 30th floor.]

[Unstable anomaly detected. Dungeon energy surging. Instance is upgrading.] [Welcome back to the Psychiatric Ward.] [Five patients still show no signs of returning to normal. They are beginning to believe they were never the problem. The problem is the world.] [Task: Survive one full day in your patient’s hands.] [Remaining players: 3] [Difficulty: S] The livestream chat exploded. [What just happened? Why is the dungeon leveling up mid-run?] [I only saw Zero and the pet start fighting, then my screen went black!]

The first zombie broke through the defenses, its rotting fingers grabbing the edge of the deck as it climbed up! "Ah!" Screams erupted instantly. The zombie was bloated. Its eyes hung on its cheeks as it lunged straight at me. "Clarissa!" Hans yelled, immediately raising his gun and aiming at the zombie in front of me. The next second, he was immediately drawn to Winnie's scream. "Hans! I'm scared!" He hesitated for a second before immediately turning his gun toward the zombies near Winnie. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach.

The guards had stocked up on instant meals. Better yet, there was a full toolbox—hammers, axes, the works. If zombies found me, I wasn't going down without a fight. Seconds crawled. A faint metallic smell drifted through the air. On the cot, the three cats slept like nothing was coming. I checked my watch. 5, 4, 3... 2... 1... [Welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse World. The game begins now. All players, do your best to survive.] The mechanical voice rang in my ears.

They did everything according to their plan but it doesn't work. The zombies came out and go straight to Hannah position again and again. This moment she lost her opportunity to play like a dead person, she wasn't able to go back to her former position. The zombies are smart as her, they noticed that Hannah's position that time has changed. They made them think that she's alive so they all came closer to her in a round position.

Streams of white light energy hit them and sent them and the bodies they possessed down into the abyss. I moved my hand, aimed at zombies, and sent them to the darkness of the Underworld. A zombie in the form of a naked shifter had cracked the back of a screaming Neratomay Elder, and I shot it, sending the both of them into the abyss. Paul was punching a zombie that had entered the body of a Were-bear, its mouth the size of an alligator. Though Paul knocked the bear off balance, the bear wasn't stunned. I aimed my power at the bear's cavernous mouth seconds before it would have locked onto Paul's face. I returned that abomination to the Underworld. "Paul, you can't fight them!" I yelled. "St

Humphrey helped her put on the headset and handed her a game controller, "Then play nicely with me." The VR game they played was called "Collapse of the World," set in a post-apocalyptic world overrun with zombies and humans turning into zombies. There were only ten survivors left, and there were two of them. The goal was to survive the longest within the allotted time. This was Emily's first time playing a VR game, and its realism startled her. Several times, when zombies lunged at her, she felt as if her brainstem was about to be sucked dry. Humphrey continuously protected Emily throughout the game. On several occasions when she was on the brink of being bitten by zombies, Humphrey saved h

“Killing your beloved pawns and knights.” He tuts, shaking his head. “A tragedy.” He begins to straighten his knocked down pieces. “Except, the plague didn’t actually kill them. It altered their brain chemistry and made them zombies.” Then he moves all the pawns three tiles forward. “Goodluck trying to fight the undead.”

Now, he carried on strolling along the corridor, noticing every detail around him: the ancient torch holders, the patterns in the cracks on the stonework and the soft tissue of the skirt trailing along the floor far ahead of him. Zomzom didn’t experience any fear or curiosity. In fact, he couldn’t care less who was hiding around the corner. With his every step, the Dark was clouding more thickly, turning the air into sticky jelly. Into a stinking brew of bones and blood... The dead had their own view of what happened around them. The zombie perceived something a live person might think was just a heightened level of background magic. Now, for example, a witch was performing an evil ritual so