𝙈𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 || ᵈᵃʳʸˡ ᵈⁱˣᵒⁿ

iii

|[part three]|
-҉

WITH A CAUTIOUS gaze that missed nothing, you navigated through the desolate streets, your steps silent and measured among the wandering ghouls. Your destination was clear in your mind—a search for a grocery store amidst the crumbling facades of small shops that lined the road. The risk of encountering ghouls inside the premises was a concern far outweighed by the pressing need for supplies. The foul stench that clung to your own skin now served as a grotesque camouflage, a pungent shield that you hoped would render you invisible to the undead's senses.

As you entered the store, the sight of food still resting on the shelves sparked a visceral reaction, a mingling of relief and desperate hunger. Your mouth watered involuntarily, a stark contrast to the ravenous emptiness gnawing at your stomach, which protested loudly enough to draw the attention of a few ghouls scattered throughout the interior. Their hungry groans and the shuffling of their feet created a dissonant symphony of death as they stirred, drawn by the prospect of a living meal. You couldn't help but release a groan of your own, born from irritation rather than any attempt to blend in. The ghouls paused, sniffing the air, searching for the scent of life in their midst. You froze, your hand inching toward the knife at your belt, prepared for the worst. Yet, after a tense moment, they seemed to dismiss you as another of their own, their interest waning as they continued their aimless wandering.

Moving with deliberate unsteadiness, you made your way to the liquor section, selecting four bottles with an alcohol content above 40%. Carefully, you concealed them beneath your shirt, turning your attention back to the store's entrance, only to find it now obstructed by several of the undead. A sigh of exasperation escaped you, your frustration mounting as you assessed the situation. With a flicker of resolve, you seized another glass bottle from the shelf, weighing it in your hand before launching it across the room. The bottle shattered against the wall with a crash that pierced the oppressive silence, immediately capturing the ghouls' fleeting attention. As they turned to investigate the source of the disturbance, their movements sluggish and uncoordinated, you seized the opportunity to slip past them, each step a careful mimicry of their own lumbering gait.

The world outside greeted you once more, a landscape of ruin and despair, but you walked on, fueled by the small triumph of survival and the precious cargo hidden beneath your shirt.

Upon your return to the vicinity of the vehicle, you observed a noticeable shift in the undead congregation. The once vast and undifferentiated horde had fragmented into smaller, more manageable clusters, each group meandering aimlessly yet ominously close to your position. With a blend of caution and stealth that had become second nature in this post-apocalyptic world, you approached the car, your movements as silent as the shadow of a cloud passing over the earth. The fuel cap was gently unscrewed, the metallic click barely audible as you prepared for the next step of your plan.

With a vigilant eye cast over your shoulder, scanning for any undue attention from the nearby ghouls, you uncapped one of the high-proof liquor bottles. The clear liquid glugged rhythmically into the fuel tank, a makeshift solution to an imminent problem. The remainder of your volatile arsenal was methodically deployed around the vicinity of the car, the alcohol splashing onto the concrete with a hushed patter, laying the groundwork for your diversion. A brief inspection confirmed the car's battery remained functional, a small yet significant victory in your efforts.

Retreating with the same stealth, you navigated the fire escape once more, evading the notice of the undead with a dancer's grace. Reaching the rooftop, you seized the lifeless form you had previously positioned as a macabre counterweight. With a concerted effort, you maneuvered the corpse to the roof's edge, directly above the vehicle, before dispatching it into the air. Your heart momentarily caught as the body descended, finally impacting the car's roof with a resonant thud. The ensuing alarm shattered the eerie silence, a cacophony of electronic wails that pierced through the ambient moans and groans of the undead.