Zombie survivor

[57] John Wick moment

The VIP booth was no longer the comfortable haven it had been just minutes ago. The chaos in the arena had turned on the crowd itself. The zombies, drawn by the panic and screams, began flooding the stands, clawing and biting their way through the once-bloodthirsty spectators.

The three raider leaders who had been lounging with the girls were now wide-eyed and sweating as they watched the carnage unfold on the screens.

"Fuck, they're climbing into the audience!" the fat man barked, his greasy hand slipping off Chloe's chest as he pushed her off his lap and scrambled to his feet. "This wasn't supposed to happen! Who the hell's running this shitshow?"

Chloe stumbled, her balance nearly lost, but she quickly composed herself, her eyes darting toward Brittney and Ms. Heather. None of them spoke, knowing better than to interrupt the raiders' panic.

Devlin, still adjusting his pants after pulling his hand out from under Brittney's skirt, sneered. "Does it matter? We need to get the fuck out of here!"

Madsen, who had been reclining against Ms. Heather's chest, jumped to his feet, his face pale. "The guards better have the exits clear. If they don't, we're screwed."

The fat man grabbed a bottle of liquor from the table, smashed it against the edge, and pointed the jagged glass at Chloe and the others. "Move, you sluts. Stay close. If you lag, you're zombie bait."

Chloe nodded quickly, her voice trembling but cooperative. "Y-Yes, of course."

Brittney swallowed hard but forced a smile, her voice dripping with false assurance. "We'll keep up. Promise."

Ms. Heather said nothing, her hands trembling as she adjusted her ripped blouse, her lips pressed into a tight line.

The raiders didn't wait for them to comply, already making their way to the staircase that led down to the ground floor. The girls followed closely, their fear mounting with every step as the sound of screams and snarls grew louder.

As they reached the ground floor, the fat man barked orders to the six bodyguards waiting near the exit. "Open the damn doors! Clear a path, now!"

The guards moved quickly, throwing the large steel doors open to the chaos outside. The raiders charged forward, desperate to escape the building—but as they passed through the doorway, a shadow moved behind them.

Morgan had been waiting.

With lightning speed, she stepped from her hiding spot behind the doorframe, her combat knife glinting in the dim light. Before the first guard could react, she plunged the blade into his throat, pulling it free with a sickening squelch. Blood sprayed across the ground as the man gurgled, collapsing in a heap.

The second guard turned, his eyes widening in shock, but Morgan was faster. She fired a single shot from her silenced pistol, the bullet punching through his forehead. The other guards scrambled, drawing their weapons, but Morgan moved like a predator, precise and deadly. She ducked under the swing of a baton, slashing at the guard's Achilles tendon. He screamed, collapsing to his knees before she ended him with a quick slice across the neck.

The remaining three guards tried to regroup, but the confined space worked against them. Morgan fired twice more, each shot finding its mark. The final guard managed to raise his gun, but Morgan was already on him, driving her knife into his chest before yanking it out and letting him fall.

The entire exchange took less than twenty seconds.

The three raiders, now unarmed and without protection, froze in place. Their faces were masks of terror as Morgan leveled her pistol at them, her expression cold and unyielding.