Sanders was terrified, and he wasn’t the only one. His soldiers froze in shock as they laid eyes on Sam, not because they recognized him, but because of the horrifying scene unfolding before them.
It was inconceivable that one man could take down so many of their comrades. It should have been virtually impossible, yet Sam had accomplished it with nothing but a dagger.
He seed almost inhuman. Without hesitation, one of Sanders’ n opened fire, attempting to eliminate Sam on the spot. However, Sam swiftly dropped to the ground, seeking cover behind a heap of lifeless bodies.
"Hold your fire!" Sanders commanded, and the soldier imdiately ceased shooting. Sothing in Sanders’ gut told him that Sam was a man capable of reason.
"Are you Sam?" Sanders questioned, uncertain of the man’s identity. But before he could receive an answer, a soldier fell beside him.
Sanders realized that the soldier hadn’t stopped shooting because of his command, but because a knife was embedded in his throat. Sam had killed him the mont he had descended, a mont that had gone unnoticed in the chaos of their attention focused solely on Sam.
"What!?" Sanders exclaid, his answer now clear. This only strengthened his belief that Sam was sohow involved in the downfall of their base.
The burnt remnants of the building were evidence that it had not been caused by zombies; soone had deliberately set it ablaze.
Amidst the charred corpses, distinguishing the living from the undead beca a grim challenge.
Sam, however, paid no mind. The last ti he had set foot here, everyone had been presud dead.
"Colonel!" one soldier called out, his voice filled with alarm as they realized that zombies were erging from the very ground they stood upon.
Sam’s position amongst the corpses suddenly made sense; he had anticipated their arrival and had laid a trap beforehand.
The soldiers had to divert their attention to the ground, dealing with the relentless onslaught of the undead.
But would it be enough, considering they would have to divert their gaze from their primary target? Sam had buried so of the zombies alive, and in the suffocating darkness and silence, they had no reason to leave their macabre grave.
The first sound they heard was the cacophony of gunshots, and they surged forward, eager for their first al.
The soldiers were frightened, and who could bla them? The fact that soone had orchestrated this massacre indicated that they had walked right into Sam’s trap.
They opened fire, gunning down the erging zombies, but amidst the chaos, it was difficult to discern Sam’s gunfire from the rest.
They fell to the ground, and before they could regain their composure, they were all dead, their flesh devoured by the ravenous undead.
Sanders and a handful of his n managed to escape the pandemonium, but this offered little solace.
Sanders knew he was in deep trouble.
They remained oblivious to the lurking traps, but soon they would face the truth. Echoes of screams from Sanders’ retreating n reached his ears, a chilling reminder of the danger they were all in.
He knew he had to escape, but he also understood the importance of eliminating Sam. Sam was a nace that needed to be eradicated, and Sanders made it his unwavering mission to end the man’s life.
Upon his return, Sanders was taken aback to find Sam comfortably seated atop the mound of corpses, surrounded by desperate zombies futilely trying to reach him.
"Oh, hello there again," Sam greeted, his voice void of hostility.
"What the fuck are you?" Sanders exclaid, his frustration and confusion evident.
"I had to teach you people a lesson. You shot at first, didn’t you?" Sam pointed out, leaping down into the midst of the undead and dispatching them effortlessly.
Seizing the opportunity, Sanders aid his gun at Sam, but Sam anticipated his move. Charging towards the Colonel while gripping a zombie, Sam disrupted Sanders’ aim. The zombie was flung towards Sanders, causing him to stumble, and Sam towered over him, ard with a gun.
"Doesn’t anyone talk anymore? What’s with all the violence? I an, have you ever tried just saying hello? I’m all about love but you all make so damn violent!" Sam remarked, his weariness evident. The military’s attempt at intimidation had no effect on him.
Sam cared little for their thods; he simply knew his purpose was to revel in as much enjoynt as possible until his ti ran out but death hadn’t earned him yet.
"Want to try again, or should I put a bullet in your fucking brain?" Sam taunted, a smirk playing on Sanders’ lips as he realized he was at Sam’s rcy.
"He—" Sanders couldn’t finish his sentence, as Sam forcefully stomped on his face, rendering him unconscious.
The impact left his mind blank as an overwhelming rush of pain surged through his head.
"Fucking idiot! That ship has sailed—" Sam’s legs wavered, and he stumbled back a few paces.
Sanders noticed his injuries but made no attempt to kill him. He lacked the ans to do so, but he knew that if he had more n and better preparation, Sam would have fallen that day.
Sam watched Sanders escape, opting not to gun him down. Where was the fun in that? Sam yearned to cross paths with him again, for it added a captivating twist to his existence.
Being pursued by both the living and the dead was an exhilarating experience, Sam knew that the zombies wouldn’t do it for him because they were only senseless creatures and he has searched for the evolved ones but they wrre extrely rare but the military would have to do until then. Yet, a question lingered in Sanders’ mind: who could possibly harm this monster? He knew he would likely never find the answer. However, another question arose, one that was not about Sanders but about the fate of the people Sam had encountered after the fall of the base. What had happened to Anderson?
User Comments
0 comments from readers