The first thing Ayla noticed was the stench.
Rot. Smoke. Fear.
Her face was pressed into the cracked floorboards of her childhood home, splinters digging into her cheek. Her wrists burned where the rough rope bit into her skin, binding her hands behind her back.
"You'll take her?"
That was her mother's voice.
Cold. Desperate.
"Please. A sack of rice. Just give us food. We're starving."
Ayla's heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else. She tried to lift her head, but a boot came down on the back of her neck, slamming her face against the floor again.
"She's pretty. Young. Untouched, right?"
Laughter. A man's voice this time. Greasy. Greedy.
"She's all yours. Just leave us enough to get through the week."
Ayla's breath hitched. No. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
"Mom," she croaked. The word tasted like ash on her tongue.
Her mother didn't look at her. Neither did her father. Not even her sister, who stood there clutching the sack of rice like it was treasure.
And then the last thing Ayla saw was that sister's smirk.
Like betrayal wasn't enough. Like she enjoyed it.
The men dragged Ayla out into the night. The world outside burned. The city was falling apart. Sirens wailed. The sky was thick with smoke. Shadows shuffled through the streets.
The undead.
And her family fed her to them without a second thought.
She fought. Kicked. Screamed. But the men were stronger. They tied her to a post at the edge of the city, right where the monsters would find her.
"This is mercy, girl," one of them said, wiping sweat from his brow. "The dead don't play with their food."
Then they left her there.
And the monsters came.
Ayla didn't close her eyes. She watched as the first creature shuffled into the flickering light. Its face was torn. Its mouth stretched too wide. Its hands clawed at the air, hungry for her.
Ayla screamed.
Pain. Teeth. Blood.
Everything went dark.
She died.
But death wasn't the end.
> CRIMSON SYSTEM ACTIVATED.
> Welcome, Player #13.
> Objective: Survive. Evolve. Take revenge.
A sharp gasp tore from Ayla's lips.
She was back.
Her hands flew to her throat. No bite. No blood. She stared around in shock. The street wasn't in ruins yet. The sky was still clear. The sirens hadn't started.
She knew this place.
Home.
Seven days before the apocalypse began.
A grin spread across Ayla's face. It was cold. Dangerous. She could feel it already. The power that hummed beneath her skin. The system that pulsed in her mind.
> Daily Quest: Spill blood. +10 XP per kill.
> Bonus: The blood of betrayers grants double XP.
Ayla cracked her knuckles.
"Well then," she said softly. "Let's get started."
She didn't bother waiting. She went inside the house. Her family was at the table, eating. Laughing. Acting like nothing had happened, because for them it hadn't yet.
Her sister saw her first.
"Ayla? You're back already? I thought you were getting supplies."
Ayla smiled.
"I found something better."
The chair crashed backward as she lunged. Her sister's eyes widened.
"Wait, what are you doing? Ayla, stop!"
But she didn't stop. Not this time. She grabbed the girl by the hair and slammed her face into the table. Once. Twice. Blood splattered across the wood.
Her parents screamed.
> Betrayer's blood spilled. +20 XP.
Ayla felt the system feed her, warmth flooding her veins. Strength. Speed. Hunger.
And she liked it.
"Please, Ayla, please," her mother sobbed, backing away. "We didn't mean it. We were scared."
Ayla laughed. The sound startled even herself.
"Scared? You should be."
Outside, the first sirens began to wail.
The end was coming.
And Ayla would be ready for it.
She wiped her hands on her torn dress, took the last rice her family had traded her for, and walked out the door.
The rice tasted like ash.
Ayla sat on the roof of an abandoned gas station, staring out over the city. She chewed slowly, watching the last sunset of normalcy paint the buildings gold and red.
Tomorrow, the first outbreak would start. Tomorrow, the world would fall apart.
But this time, she wasn't helpless.
Her hands trembled, not from fear, but from the rush that still lingered. Her sister's blood had dried on her fingers. She could feel the system pulsing inside her.
> XP: 40 / 100
New skill unlocked: Predator's Instinct.
Her lips curled.
Predator. That was exactly what she was now.
A noise below caught her attention.
Footsteps. Fast. Desperate.
A man sprinted into the station lot, glancing over his shoulder like the devil himself chased him. His shirt was torn. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. Dirt and sweat streaked his face, but even from up here, Ayla could see how sharp his features were.
He was beautiful. In a dangerous kind of way.
Dark hair fell into his eyes. His mouth was set in a hard line.
Ayla watched as he ducked behind a rusted car, pulling out a knife. He wasn't just running. He was ready to fight.
The thugs chasing him appeared seconds later. Three of them. Big. Armed. Laughing like they had already won.
"Come on out, pretty boy," one jeered. "We just want to talk."
"Yeah, talk," another snickered. "Then maybe play a little."
Ayla rolled her eyes. She had seen enough of men like them in her first life. She would enjoy this.
The man behind the car didn't move. He waited, patient like a predator himself.
And when the first thug got too close, he sprang.
The fight was quick and brutal. His knife flashed, fast and precise. One thug went down with a gurgle, clutching his throat. The second swung a bat, but the man dodged easily, driving his blade into the attacker's side.
The last one hesitated. That was all it took.
The man slammed him against the car and whispered something in his ear. Ayla couldn't hear the words, but whatever it was, the thug pissed himself before the man let him drop.
Ayla clapped slowly, the sound echoing in the evening air.
The man tensed, spinning toward the noise, his knife ready. His eyes found her on the roof.
"Who the hell are you?" he called up.
Ayla smirked.
"Someone who appreciates a good show."
His gaze narrowed.
"Enjoy the view, sweetheart. It's dangerous out here for little girls playing watcher."
The words were sharp, but there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
Ayla leaned forward.
"I'm not playing. And I'm not little."
She jumped down, landing lightly in front of him. His knife twitched, but he didn't strike.
Up close, he was even more distracting. His chest rose and fell with adrenaline. His lips were parted, and his eyes scanned her like he couldn't decide if she was a threat or not.
"You're crazy," he said.
Ayla grinned.
"Probably."
A siren howled in the distance. The first one. Right on time.
The man froze.
"What was that?"
"The beginning," Ayla said softly.
She turned and started walking.
"Wait," he called.
Ayla glanced over her shoulder.
"You're going to want to stick with me if you want to survive what's coming."
He hesitated, then jogged to catch up, falling into step beside her.
"You sound awfully sure of yourself."
"I am."
They walked through the darkening streets, side by side. The city around them felt like it was holding its breath.
Finally, he spoke again.
"Name's Kade."
"Ayla."
Kade looked at her like he was trying to figure her out. His gaze dropped to the blood on her hands.
"Rough night?"
Ayla laughed softly.
"You could say that."
He didn't press. They both had secrets.
But as they moved through the city, as the shadows grew longer, Ayla could feel it. The tension between them. The pull.
And the hunger.
Not just for survival. Not just for revenge.
Something deeper.
She felt his eyes on her when he thought she wasn't looking. The way his gaze lingered on the curve of her hips, the sway of her walk.
And Ayla didn't mind at all.
Tomorrow, the city would fall. The dead would rise.
But tonight, they were alive.
And Ayla planned to enjoy it.