Zombie survivor

[98] New life

The scavengers and survivors were barely holding the line. The raiders, emboldened by their numbers and the apparent fatigue of their opponents, pressed forward with relentless aggression. Bloodied and bruised, the teens fought tooth and nail, but despair was creeping in like a suffocating fog.

Jean, clutching his injured back, swung his lead pipe weakly at a charging raider, managing only to slow him before Akira darted in and finished the job with a brutal slash of her knives. Chloe pumped her shotgun, her arms shaking as she fired off another round. The recoil nearly knocked her over, and she cursed under her breath, sweat dripping into her eyes.

"I haven't even hit 100 million subs yet!" Brittany screamed, backing up against a car as a raider closed in on her. "I can't die here! Not before I'm famous!"

Jordan swung his crowbar wildly, his strikes clumsy and ineffective. "I don't wanna die a virgin! I can't die a fucking virgin!"

"Shut up and fight!" Brad bellowed, smashing his crowbar into a raider's chest. But even he sounded winded, his confidence cracking under the relentless assault.

Jean, clutching his injured back, managed to parry a blow with a lead pipe, but he was visibly struggling. "Just... hold the line!" he yelled through gritted teeth, though even he wasn't sure how much longer they could last.

"Hold it for what?" Chloe shouted, firing her last shotgun shell and dropping the weapon in frustration. "We're done, Jean! We're fucking done!"

The group was breaking, their morale unraveling under the weight of the relentless attack. The raiders jeered as they pushed forward, ready to deliver the killing blow.

Then, above the chaos, a voice boomed through a tinny speakerphone.

"For my entire life... I've been a fucking loser."

Heads turned toward the source. On the rooftop of the nearby building stood Trev, clutching a battered speakerphone. His figure was backlit against the gray sky, his disheveled hair whipping in the wind. The raiders paused, confused, while the scavengers and survivors froze, their faces etched with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"I've wasted years of my life," Trev continued, his voice trembling but loud enough to carry. "Arguing with strangers on Discord over dumb shit that doesn't matter. Jerking off to hentai because I couldn't talk to real women. I'm 30 fucking years old, living in my mom's basement, with no job, no money, and no future!"

"Oh my God," Brittany whispered, wide-eyed. "What the fuck is he doing?"

"Something insane," Blake muttered, his grip tightening on his pistol.

Trev stepped closer to the edge of the rooftop, his eyes sweeping across the battlefield below. "I've disappointed my parents so many times, they don't even bother hiding it anymore. My dad won't look me in the eye, and my mom... she still makes my meals because she's scared I'll starve to death if she doesn't."

Jordan blinked, his crowbar hanging limply at his side. "Is this... is this his villain origin story?"

"Shut up, Jordan!" Chloe snapped, though she couldn't take her eyes off Trev. "Let him finish."

Trev's voice grew louder, more desperate. "I've never had a girlfriend. Hell, I've never had a date. I spent years moderating a Discord server for free, thinking it made me important. Thinking it made me someone."

The raider leader, still on the ground clutching his groin, growled, "What the fuck is this idiot talking about?"

The other raiders exchanged confused glances, their momentum stalled as they listened to the speech. Even the scavengers seemed caught between horror and morbid fascination.

"For years," Trev continued, his voice cracking, "I let myself rot. I let myself believe I was nothing. And you know what? I was fucking right! I was nothing! A pathetic, useless piece of shit who spent more time jacking off to anime girls than trying to fix his goddamn life!"

Jean, bleeding and battered, managed a faint smile. "Jesus, Trev..."

Akira, standing protectively near him, whispered, "Is he okay?"

"No," Jean replied. "But he's doing this anyway."

Trev wiped his face with his sleeve, his hands trembling. "I've been a coward my entire life. A joke. A waste of air. And I always thought I'd die like that—unimportant, forgotten, and alone."

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving as he steadied himself. "But not today."

The battlefield fell silent, all eyes locked on him. Even the raiders had stopped advancing, their weapons lowered as they listened to the unfiltered rawness of his confession.

"My name is Trevor Wainwright," he bellowed, his voice echoing across the ruins. "And today, I'm done being a fucking loser. My new life begins now!"

He threw his arms out wide, the speakerphone still clutched in one hand. In the distance, a sound pierced the air—a bone-chilling howl, long and guttural, rolling across the landscape like an omen of death. It was followed by another. And another.

The horde was coming.

"What the fuck is that?" a raider shouted, panic creeping into his voice.

"Oh, shit," Chloe muttered, her face pale. "He didn't."

"Is that... the horde?" Brad asked, his eyes wide.

Jean forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily on Akira for support. "Trev... you crazy son of a bitch."

The howls grew louder, closer, accompanied by the distant sound of countless feet pounding against the ground. The raiders, once so confident, now looked visibly shaken. The scavengers, battered but alive, stared at Trev with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Trev stood tall on the rooftop, his speakerphone raised high, as the haunting sound of the horde drew ever closer.

Q: Are you hyped?