After confirming there were no zombies at his door, Aron carefully unlocked it, making sure not to make a sound that could draw the monsters downstairs.
He slipped out and closed the door softly behind him. Without hesitation, he climbed upward, step by step, until he reached the highest floor of the building.
There were reasons he chose the fifth floor. Among the nine residents of the building, five lived up here.
More importantly, it was the safest position, zombies would not be able to approach him from both sides at once.
Aron knew well that although he was immune to turning into one of them, the sharp nails of zombies could still tear his flesh with ease.
The bite wound on his hand and the claw marks on his chest were proof enough. He had covered them with cloth.
It hadn’t been written in the observation reports he read, but to Aron, it was common sense: zombies hunted the living, and they would naturally be able to sll blood.
That was why, even drenched in sweat and feeling stifled, he still wore thick layers of clothes.
He reached door 501 and knocked lightly. Each floor had five apartnts. The fifth was fully occupied since it was cheaper, there was no elevator in the building, and only the poor and struggling lived here.
The reason for knocking was simple: to check if the residents had turned into zombies, or if were still inside.
Truthfully, despite living here, Aron had never bothered to get close to anyone.
He only knew how many tenants there were on each floor, and that was just general knowledge.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang...
Sure enough, sounds ca from inside. Judging by the noise, there was more than one zombie, it must have been a family.
Aron moved to the next apartnt, repeating the sa test. Room by room, his discovery left him grim.
Every resident on the fifth floor had already turned. Three of the rooms contained more than one zombie; the other two seed to house only a single one.
It was hardly surprising. A curfew had been put in place after the chaos of the light incident. Most people had stayed ho.
Now ca the real problem. All the doors were locked from the inside.
He knew how to pick locks, but these were welded local ones. The only way in was to break them, and that would make noise, and any loud sound might draw the horde that had gone downstairs after the explosion.
Aron sighed.
(Plan B it is.)
He descended quietly, checking each floor as he went. It wasn’t because he wanted to team up with survivors,far from it.
He had no interest in forming a group or any of that nonsense.
His downfall had taught him too much about human nature.
Teammates were dead weight to him after all. He alone was immune to the virus; that gave him freedom to take risks no one else could. A team would only slow him down, force him to worry about their safety. Which was too much hassle and offsets the purpose of forming the team in the first place.
After losing everything, he swore to live only for himself and put himself above all else.
The reason he once loved Rihanna, his ex-wife so much, enough to give her access to everything, was because he had never truly felt loved.
People thought his parents were dead. In truth, they were alive. His mother had abandoned him at an orphanage when he was five.
Unlike the movies where children were adopted often, his orphanage was different. If one child was adopted in a year, it was considered lucky.
At fifteen, he was kicked out to fend for himself. He worked tirelessly for 2 years getting enough money and hired an investigator to find his mother.
At first, he thought she had abandoned him because of poverty or sothing. But the truth? She was a wealthy tycoon from a powerful family who had never known hardship in her life.
Why? he had asked himself. Why throw away?
When he confronted her, her shock was not joy, but disdain. She didn’t hide anything.
She told him directly: he was her only stain, the greatest humiliation of her life. Her eyes had been cold and indifferent. When she said each word.
"If you didn’t want , then why did you give birth to ?" Aron had roared, heart broken.
That was when he learned another cruel truth. His father was alive too, another powerful man, wealthy enough to shake the GDP of small countries.
His mother had given birth to him in order to force a marriage. But his father had refused, unwilling to accept a bastard.
To both of them, Aron was nothing but disgrace, a stain. So they threw him away.
Aron had been only seventeen when he heard those words. The next day, his mother sent soone to kill him, to erase her humiliation once and for all.
He wasn’t alive because he could fight or because the assassin failed. He was only seventeen then.
The reason he survived was simply because the assassin sent to kill him was his closest friend from the orphanage, an older boy who had left two years earlier.
They had been inseparable, and eting him again under such circumstances was devastating. Aron finally understood his mother had ant every word.
After that, he faked his death, changed his na, and disappeared.
It was then he discovered trading stocks. He fell in love instantly, and after 3 years of self taught pain and struggle, his rise was teoric. Wealth and fa ca at a speed no one else could match.
In those days, he t Rihanna. She was soft, gentle, and he fell for her quickly. Despite warnings from his lawyer, he married her without a contract.
He gave her access to everything, saying his money was her money.
He thought trust was love, and that if he gave her everything she will never have such thoughts.
Now, thinking back, he realized how naive and stupid he had been. There was no dicine for regret.
Aron reached the third floor, where his own apartnt was. He knocked gently on the door opposite his. No response.
Normally, that would be expected. But this ti, he was certain soone was inside.
That room belonged to a young woman, the only other tenant on this floor. She had often tried to strike conversations with him, even once baking him a cake. But Aron had refused to form any bond.
Either she was alive in there, too afraid to open the door, or she had already turned and jumped from the balcony... just like the zombie that had leapt from the fifth floor onto his own balcony, devouring his wife’s head.
...
They say behind every successful man is a strong woman... unless you’re Aron.
Behind him was just betrayal.
Drop power stones so I don’t suffer the sa fate 😹.
Pretty 🥺🙏
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