Apocalypse: King of Zombies

Bighead charged forward with a few zombie underlings in tow, not wasting a second.

The battlefield was pure chaos. Chompers and the others were deep in a frenzy, completely unhinged. Chompers had already tackled a mimic to the ground, tearing into it with his claws and gnashing at it with his massive front teeth.

But more mimics were closing in fast. One grabbed him by the throat, another twisted his head violently.

Chompers was in agony, but still ferocious as hell. He sank his teeth into one of them with everything he had, ignoring the rest completely.

Seeing that Chompers was in trouble, Bighead sprinted over and yanked the surrounding mimics off him, tossing them aside like rag dolls.

”Chompers! I got your back!”

Chompers was straddling the mimic he’d just shredded, white fungal threads flying everywhere. He turned his head, eyes still wild and bloodthirsty.

Then, without warning, he stood up, wound up his arm, and slapped Bighead across the face.

SMACK!

The sound cracked through the air. Bighead stumbled back, a few bloody gashes appearing on his face, thick black blood oozing out.

”Uh???”

He froze mid-stagger, still in the pose of someone who just got smacked, his face a picture of disbelief.

”I came to help you—why the hell are you hitting me?!”

”Still trying to trick me? You wanna die?!” Chompers snarled, ready to lunge again.

”Wait, wait, wait—!” Bighead threw up his hands, quickly catching on. ”Chompers, it’s me! I’m really Bighead!”

”Uh…” Chompers paused, his expression flickering. He hesitated—only Bighead ever called him that.

”Bighead? It’s really you?”

”Yeah…”

”Damn, why are you so charred? Someone roast you or something?” Chompers asked, eyeing him curiously.

Bighead looked miserable. ”Ugh, don’t even get me started. It’s been hell while you were gone. I’ve been through some serious crap.”

”No worries. I’m back now—I’ll make it right,” Chompers said, thumping his chest proudly. Then his tone shifted. ”Oh, right. What the hell are those zombies pretending to be you?”

”…They’re mimics. It’s one of the powers of the Zombie King in L.A.”

Just mentioning it made Bighead furious. Those damn mimics had impersonated him and gotten him beat up—twice.

At this point, his hatred for them was right up there with his grudge against the Big Ears gang.

Chompers was pissed too. ”That bastard. If I find her real body, I’m gonna tear her to shreds!”

But just then, a strange white mist drifted in on the wind. The zombies it touched froze mid-motion, their faces twisting in pain before they collapsed, convulsing violently and letting out bone-chilling screams.

Then, red tumors began to swell all over their bodies—dozens, then hundreds, piling on top of each other in grotesque layers. It was enough to trigger anyone’s fear of clusters.

Clearly, they’d been infected by fungal spores. Their flesh was drained, their bodies left shriveled and horrifyingly disfigured.

”Holy shit…” Bighead and Chompers both recoiled, a chill running down their spines.

From the mist emerged a lone zombie figure, striding toward them. A mushroom cap sprouted from her head, her eyes cold and deadly. The killing intent rolling off her was unmistakable.

It was Lil’ Shroom.

”That… that’s the real Zombie King? The one with that power?” Chompers asked, eyes wide with shock.

”Yeah, that’s gotta be her,” Bighead nodded. ”Chompers, should we go for it?”

”She looks… kinda strong.”

”…So what now?”

”I say we get the hell outta here,” Chompers said, immediately abandoning all that tough talk from earlier.

”…” Bighead stared at him, deadpan.

The infected zombies kept collapsing, twitching violently as their blood and flesh were sucked dry. Red tumors burst from their skin, pulsing and multiplying.

Then, those tumors began to writhe, merging together, reshaping into humanoid forms—new mimics, ready to jump back into the fight.

The whole thing was grotesque and surreal, like something out of a nightmare.

”Yeah, nope. We’re outta here,” Chompers said, now fully committed to retreat.

…

Lil’ Shroom had been circling nearby the whole time, keeping close to the action. So naturally, she was the first to arrive on the scene.

Her sharp eyes swept across the battlefield, quickly sizing things up. Bighead, Chompers, and the rest? Weaklings. Barely worth a glance. Their combat power was laughable—she didn’t even need to bother with them.

The real fight, the one that mattered, was dead center: Laura versus Kong. Two Zombie Kings going head-to-head—one the embodiment of speed, the other of brute strength.

They were locked in a savage brawl, both eyes glowing red, completely consumed by bloodlust.

Kong was clearly worse off. His body was a mess—deep gashes everywhere, skin shredded, blood pouring out in thick, black streams. There wasn’t a single patch of him left untouched.

Laura wasn’t unscathed either. Her left shoulder was caved in, collarbone shattered—obviously the result of a brutal punch. But neither of them gave a damn about their injuries. They just kept going, throwing everything they had at each other.

Then Lil’ Shroom noticed something—something small, but important.

No matter what Kong did, no matter how he moved, his right hand never opened. He kept it clenched tight the entire time. And from between his fingers, a faint, radiant glow was leaking out.

”The Radiant Crystal’s still in his hand!”

That was the whole reason Lil’ Shroom had intercepted him before he could return to the Hive. That crystal was everything. And now, with Kong distracted and weakened, this was the perfect chance. If she and Laura worked together, they could take it.

”Endless Infestation...” she whispered.

From her palm, a thick cloud of spores burst forth, swirling like dense white fog. It surged forward like a living serpent, coiling through the air toward Kong.

He didn’t even notice. His focus was locked entirely on Laura.

The mist wrapped around him in seconds. Tiny spores burrowed into his flesh, slipping through wounds and pores.

”RAAAHHH—!!” Kong roared in agony. It felt like someone had poured salt into every open wound on his body—pure, searing pain.

The fungal spores dug deeper, feeding off his energy, multiplying at a terrifying rate.

Red, bulbous growths began to swell across his massive frame—dozens of them, pulsing and twitching like tumors.

Kong was in hell. He clawed at himself, trying to rip the things off. But even in that state, his right hand never let go of the Radiant Crystal. He held it like his life depended on it.

And maybe it did.

As an S-class strength-type Zombie King, Kong’s body was insanely tough. The spores alone weren’t enough to kill him outright.

But Laura wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by.

She launched herself forward in a blur, leaping through the air and landing right beside him.

Her fingers, sharp as blades, slashed straight for his throat.

”SHHK!”

All five claws sank deep into his neck, slicing through flesh and muscle. A geyser of black blood sprayed out, splattering across the ground.

Even blood dribbled from the corner of Kong’s mouth—but his eyes still burned red, full of rage and defiance.

Zombies don’t die easy. Unless you destroy the brain or sever the head, they keep going.

But this? This was close.

Laura wasn’t after the Radiant Crystal. She wanted him dead. Her claws dug in deeper, muscles tensing as she prepared to rip his throat wide open—maybe even tear his whole damn head off.

The danger finally registered.

Kong’s survival instincts kicked in.

With a guttural growl, he finally let go of the Radiant Crystal—and hurled it into the air with all the strength he had left.

…