_ The Silent Requiem System

The beef jerky tastes like ash and mold and rotten fish all mixed together into one disgusting, mouth-destroying abomination.

I gag, wiping my tongue on my sleeve while my stomach violently protest in response.

What the hell was that?!

Beef jerky isn't supposed to taste like death. It's supposed to be salty and chewy and meaty, not whatever unholy nightmare that just violated my taste buds.

What could be wrong? I scratch my temple in thought. 

It doesn't take a minute before my eyes widen as realization slowly and horribly dawns on me.

It's not the jerky.

It's me.

I physically can't eat this. My body rejects it—normal food is no longer food for me.

I am slowly reanimating into a fucking Zombie. Oh, shit. 

I swallow hard, shoving the bag aside like it offended me, and try to steady my breathing.

Okay.

Alright.

No need to panic. My hands are up at my sides as I tried to breathe properly. 

Maybe it's just my stomach being weird. Maybe I just need to find something else. Something… 

A movement in the distance catches my attention.

I frowned.

Near the destroyed remains of a building, half-hidden in the shadows, a boy crawls across the pavement.

He can't be older than sixteen; skinny, dirty, with wild eyes darting around as he carefully, silently, inches his way toward an exit. His movements are slow and skillful like he's done this before.

And the zombies?

They're right there.

Just a few feet away from him, hunched over what used to be a person, their black worm-infested bodies twitching as they feast.

Oh, Jesus fucking christ. One misstep or wrong move and he's dead.

I watch him for a second, briefly forgetting my hunger. He's smart, I'll give him that. He's moving with the kind of desperation only a survivor can have – the kind of skillful caution that comes from knowing one mistake means death.

Still, he's an idiot for even being here. There is no way in hell that he can survive that. Doesn't he see?

I sigh, already knowing what I'm about to do.

I have no reason to help this kid. None. I don't know him. I don't owe him anything. Hell, I don't even know if I can fight like this yet.

But I also know what it's like to be alone in this world.

And I know what it's like to be hunted.

I step forward, meaning well, but everything inside me seizes.

A scent hits me.

Not the rot of the zombies. Not the smoke in the air.

Something different. Something mouthwatering.

Rich. Delicious.

My entire body locks up. My fingers twitch. My stomach growls. My eyes flick to his veins and all see is the blood pumping through them… vividly, like he isn't so many deets away and is right in front of me. 

I stare at the boy. And suddenly, all I can think about is sinking my teeth into him.

Horror burned into me. 

No.

No, no, no.

That's not what I meant to do.

That's not why I moved.

I was going to help him. I was going to… 

My breathsnares, my muscles trembling as I fight against whatever fucked-up urge just took over me.

But the scent… his scent—is so intoxicating.

Like honey and raw meat, something sweet and savory and absolutely perfect.

I can almost taste it already.

My jaw clenches so hard I hear my teeth grind together.

What the fuck is happening to me?!

I jerk back, shaking my head violently, trying to snap myself out of it. This isn't me.

But my stomach?

My body?

It disagrees.

Because for the first time since I woke up…

I finally know what I need to eat. And it sure as hell isn't beef jerky.

A chime rings in my head. 

[First task issued.] 

My whole body jerks like I've just been electrocuted. "Holy mother of…" 

[Main Quest: Reintegration into Humanity.] 

Reintegration? 

[Objective: You currently resemble a rotting corpse. This is inefficient for infiltration. Your task is to restore a more human appearance.] 

Okay. Wow. First of all—rude. 

[Completion Rewards: 

~Restored skin tone and texture 

~Normalized body temperature 

~Breath simulation (optional)] 

My throat goes dry as I rapidly blinked. 

So, in order to look human, I have to... what, complete some weird undead spa treatment? 

I lift my hands to my face, suddenly self-conscious. My fingers brush over my cheeks, and yeah—this is bad. My skin has the texture of old parchment, dry and stretched. 

My veins are dark like inky rivers under too-pale flesh. My lips feel cracked, and my hair... let's not even talk about my hair. 

I look like I crawled out of a horror movie. Which, technically, I did. 

Great. Just fantastic. 

I puff gingerly then immediately freeze. 

Wait. I didn't exhale. 

There was no breath. No warm air against my hands. Just... nothing. 

[Breath simulation is optional.] 

Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me, system. That makes it so much better. 

My eye twitches. 

I shake my head, trying to focus. There's a starving teenage boy literally crawling through a death trap right now, and my first instinct was to eat him like a goddamn snack pack. 

That is a little bit of a problem. 

[Additional Objective Unlocked: Test Hunger Resistance.] 

I freeze. "Excuse me?" 

[Objective: Resist consuming human flesh for the next 24 hours.] 

My stomach growls in fury. Violently. 

I slap my gut. "You better shut the hell up, we are not doing this!" 

[Failure to resist will delay reintegration rewards.] 

My whole body tenses. 

I look at the boy again. He is so unaware, so vulnerable. He has no idea that he's being watched by something far worse than the zombies. 

Me. 

I swallow hard. This is bad. This is really, really bad. I shake my head, forcing myself to think logically. 

Right. Priorities. 

One: Do not eat the boy. 

Two: Complete whatever ridiculous task the system gave me so I can stop looking like a sentient corpse. 

Three: Figure out how to exist in this world without becoming some nightmare cryptid that haunts people's sleep. 

Simple enough. 

I force my feet to move, carefully stepping forward. The hunger is still there, burning inside of me, whispering about how easy it would be to just… 

Nope. Not happening. Not today, Satan. 

I focus on something else. Anything else. 

The boy is moving, plodding towards a broken store entrance. His breathing is shallow, regulated. He's smart, moving carefully like that. 

But he's not smart enough. 

One of the zombies shifts. It's slow and unnoticed but it's enough. Its black worm-infested flesh quivers, sensing movement. 

Shit. 

The boy doesn't see it. He's too focused on his path. 

I took a step foward. "Hey, kid." 

His entire body goes stiff when he saw me. His head jerks up, eyes wide with fear. 

"Don't freak out," I say quickly. "I know I look like your worst nightmare right now…"

A gunshot booms through the air.