Apocalypse: King of Zombies

A few of the livestock workers stood frozen, completely baffled.

Without a word, Ethan flicked his wrist and hurled a vial of virus straight at them. It smashed against their faces with pinpoint accuracy, splattering dark red liquid everywhere.

”Ahhh—!”

The workers screamed like they’d been doused with acid. They collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, their bones cracking and popping as their bodies twisted into grotesque shapes.

The virus was eating through them fast, corrupting their flesh. Their screams, once shrill and panicked, grew hoarse—then turned into guttural, feral growls.

”Enjoy the ride,” Ethan muttered, already turning away.

He didn’t spare them another glance. Instead, he moved on, heading toward other areas of the facility—cattle barns, sheep pens—gathering up flesh and blood as he went.

Any workers he came across? He just lobbed another vial of zombie virus their way.

Within minutes, the harvesting was done. With no more need for subtlety, Ethan made his way to the water supply system and dumped in a little something extra—something potent.

It didn’t take long.

The once-bustling livestock farm was soon echoing with savage howls. The air, once filled with the sounds of animals and chatter, now pulsed with a violent, bloodthirsty energy.

In Ethan’s mind, signals began to flood in—mental pulses from the infected. They were starving. Desperate. Hungry for flesh and chaos.

”Then let’s begin,” Ethan whispered, sending out a single command.

It was like flipping a switch.

The zombies sprang into motion, sprinting in all directions, hunting for prey.

The uninfected workers were the first to suffer. One by one, they realized their former coworkers had turned—and were now charging at them with murderous intent.

”Hey, what’s wrong with you?!”

”Ahhh! Help! Get off me!”

”Oh my God—run!”

Screams in every language rang out across the compound. Panic exploded. The entire farm descended into chaos.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the vampire guards to notice something was off. They rushed out to investigate.

But the moment they stepped outside, they were greeted by a horrific sight: a worker pinned against the sheep pen fence, a zombie tearing into his neck. His body convulsed violently as blood streamed down his throat and dripped from his fingertips.

”What the hell? A purebred zombie?”

”Is it trying to steal our food?”

”Hell no. Boys, take it down!”

But just as they were about to charge, they spotted dozens more zombies barreling toward them. Their faces were twisted, feral—like starving wolves. And they didn’t hesitate. They pounced, launching a brutal, indiscriminate assault.

”What the—” one of the guards gasped, eyes wide with horror.

This wasn’t normal. Zombies didn’t attack their own kind.

There was only one explanation.

”We’re under attack! Another Zombie King must’ve invaded!”

”Yeah! All our livestock’s gone too!”

”Someone report to Lord Monroe—now!”

…

Meanwhile, in the heart of the island, inside a grand, gothic-style castle, a boy of about sixteen or seventeen sat calmly. He had golden hair, piercing blue eyes, a sharp nose, and skin so pale it was almost translucent. Handsome, in a cold, aristocratic way.

This was Monroe—the undisputed ruler of the island.

On the edge of a pristine white bed nearby sat a middle-aged woman, stiff as a board. Her face was pale with terror, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind.

Still, she tried to keep it together, forcing herself to sit upright, to hide the fear clawing at her insides.

”Mom, are you okay?” Monroe turned to her, his voice gentle, concerned.

”I’m… I’m fine,” she stammered, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace.

Because the truth was—she wasn’t his mother. Not even close. They didn’t share a drop of blood.

Monroe had a strange, twisted obsession.

Rumor had it that back when he was still human, his life had been a complete mess—an alcoholic father, a mother who worked as a prostitute. That kind of childhood left him with a deep, aching void where maternal love should’ve been.

But after he was infected by the mutant virus, that longing warped into something dark and grotesque. It consumed him. He became obsessed with finding a ”mother”—someone to fill that hole.

So far, he’d gone through over a hundred women, each one chosen to play the role. But none of them ever measured up. And when they disappointed him?

He killed them. Every single one.

Like clockwork, one would die every few days. No exceptions.

That’s why the woman sitting on the bed now was terrified out of her mind. She felt like she was living with a monster—one that could devour her at any moment.

”I heard… Lord Crimson Count recently adopted an American girl as his daughter,” Monroe said flatly, his expression unreadable. ”She must be very happy.”

”Yes, yes, of course,” the woman replied quickly, nodding like her life depended on it. ”To be Lord Crimson Count’s daughter… that’s a great honor. She must be very happy.”

For the first time, a smile crept across Monroe’s pale, handsome face. He slowly walked toward her.

”Mommy… do you love me?”

”I do! Of course I love you. I love you more than anything,” she said, trying her best to sound sincere, her voice trembling.

But Monroe’s smile froze. His eyes turned cold, dead.

Then, without warning, he slashed his hand across her throat.

Shhk!

He ripped her windpipe out with his bare hand. Blood sprayed in all directions, splattering across the pristine white sheets like crimson blossoms blooming in snow.

”But… you’re not my mother,” he said softly.

”I… ugh…” The woman couldn’t even speak. Her eyes widened in shock as she fell backward, lifeless.

Even in her final moments, she didn’t understand why she had to die.

Monroe stood there, a flicker of melancholy crossing his face. He turned to the window, staring out in silence, lost in thought.

Just then, a middle-aged man in a sharp suit stepped into the room.

”Lord Monroe, the livestock facility’s been breached. There are reports of multiple purebred zombies, and all the livestock is gone.”

”Oh?” Monroe raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised.

Purebred zombies were rare on the island. Most of them were scattered, rogue creatures lurking in the forests—nothing that posed a real threat.

The rest of the island was under his control, fully infected and obedient.

”So why would they show up at the farm?” he muttered, puzzled.

Still, his instincts told him this wasn’t just some random incident.

”Mobilize all the town’s guards. I want a full investigation.”

”Yes, my lord,” the man replied immediately.

Monroe paused, then added, ”Actually… I’ll go myself.”

”Uh…” The man looked up, startled.

Lord Monroe, taking action personally? That hadn’t happened in a long time.

Whoever the intruder was… they were about to have a very bad day.

…

Meanwhile, over at Big Mike’s BBQ & Buffet, the second-floor guest room looked like a war zone—vampire corpses were piled everywhere, limbs twisted, blood soaking into the carpet.

After Mia killed that old vampire, the restaurant staff kept coming upstairs to check on him. One by one.

And one by one, Mia killed them all.

None of them ever made it back down.

Eventually, the whole restaurant shut down.

After clearing out the last of the customers, Oliver flipped the sign on the front door from ”Welcome” to ”Temporarily Closed.”

Silence fell over the place.

Emily was in awe. She couldn’t stop staring at Mia, a mix of admiration and disbelief in her eyes.

That was… badass.

”I’ve already contacted the other members of The Ember Ring,” Oliver said. ”They’re on their way.”

”Mm,” Mia replied with a nod, barely reacting.

Emily’s big eyes darted around. ”Your friend went to the supermarket, right? Isn’t that super dangerous? What if he runs into vampires?”

”He’ll be fine,” Mia said calmly. ”He doesn’t care about that kind of thing.”

”Wait, seriously?” Emily’s jaw dropped a little.

”Can he really make it back alive…?”

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