We took the stairs three at a time.
Aurora led the way, her sword casting metallic light that danced across the concrete walls. The scratching sound grew louder with each flight we climbed.
Second floor. Third floor.
The noise was wrong. Not like nails on metal—more organic. Like bone scraping against stone, but amplified beyond anything that should be possible.
By the time we reached the fourth floor landing, my enhanced perception was screaming warnings I didn't understand.
Aurora pressed herself against the stairwell door, listening.
The scratching stopped.
Silence stretched for several heartbeats. Then came a sound that made my blood freeze. A wet, sliding noise. Like something massive dragging itself across linoleum.
But underneath that, something else. Something that shouldn't exist.
Rhythmic breathing. Too controlled, too deliberate for a mindless zombie.
"It's in the hallway," Aurora whispered. "Between us and the survivors."
I closed my eyes, reaching for my enhanced perception. The quill materialized, and reality fractured around me.
What I saw through the door made no sense.
The creature's form defied easy categorization. My brain kept trying to process it as human, then rejecting the input as impossible. It was like looking at something caught mid-transformation.
Eight feet long. Maybe more. Moving in ways that violated basic anatomy. What had once been a human torso was stretched and elongated, spine curved at impossible angles. Translucent skin pulsed with veins of phosphorescent light that branched like lightning.
But it was the limbs that made me want to vomit.
Arms and legs had multiplied, splitting at the joints like tree branches. Some retained human hands with elongated fingers, others had fused into claw-like appendages. They moved with disturbing coordination, each one testing surfaces, probing for weaknesses.
The head was recognizably human—Professor Hendricks from the Chemistry department—but wrong in fundamental ways. The skull had elongated slightly, jaw dislocated to accommodate rows of teeth that looked more like shark's than human's. His eyes still glowed with that familiar phosphorescent light, but there was something behind them now. Not intelligence exactly, but cunning.
'This isn't just infection. This is adaptation.'
"Nate?" Aurora's voice seemed to come from very far away. "What do you see?"
I tried to speak, found my throat had closed up. The thing on the other side of the door wasn't just a zombie. It was something new. Something that had learned from the basic variants and improved upon them.
The breathing pattern changed. Became more rapid.
It knew we were here.
"Oh, shit," I whispered.
The door exploded inward.
Not opened—exploded. The heavy steel buckled and tore like paper as something with far too much strength smashed through.
Aurora and I scrambled backward as the creature flowed into the stairwell.
Flowed. That was the only word for it. Despite its size, it moved like liquid, appendages rippling in waves that carried it forward with impossible grace.
"What the hell is that thing?" Aurora's sword blazed to full brightness.
The creature paused, head tilting at an unnatural angle. Its phosphorescent eyes focused on us with disturbing awareness. Not the blank stare of the basic zombies, but something that suggested it was learning. Adapting even as we watched.
It opened its mouth, revealing those shark-like teeth, and made a sound.
Not quite a growl, not quite a hiss. Something between the two that carried an unmistakable tone of recognition. It knew we were different from the prey it usually hunted.
It knew we were dangerous.
"It's studying us," Aurora breathed.
The creature's multiple limbs arranged themselves in a pattern that suggested preparation for attack. But it didn't rush forward like the basic zombies. Instead, it moved with careful deliberation, testing our reactions.
One appendage reached toward Aurora's sword, stopping just short of the blade. The phosphorescent light from its skin seemed to react to her weapon's energy, pulsing in response.
'It's learning about our abilities.'
"We can't let it escape," I said suddenly. "If it reports back to others..."
Aurora's eyes widened with understanding. This wasn't just a stronger zombie. It was a scout. An advance form that could observe and potentially communicate what it learned.
The creature seemed to sense the shift in our intentions. It let out that hybrid growl-hiss again, but louder this time. Almost like it was calling for something.
Then it moved.
I'd thought the basic zombies were fast. This was beyond fast. Beyond anything that should be physically possible. One moment it was ten feet away, the next it was flowing up the wall, using its multiple limbs to move in three dimensions like some grotesque spider.
Aurora swung her sword. The blade passed through empty air as the creature twisted around her strike with liquid grace.
Three appendages lashed out simultaneously. Aurora barely got her sword up in time to block, and even then the impact sent her stumbling backward.
I acted on instinct. The quill blazed to life, and I reached for the gravitational fields around the creature.
The resistance was immediate and surprising. Not immunity like I'd feared, but the creature's energy pattern was denser, more organized than the basic zombies. My gravity manipulation took hold, but sluggishly.
The creature slammed into the floor, but immediately began pushing back against the increased gravity. Its multiple limbs strained against the invisible force, muscles bulging as it fought my ability through sheer physical strength.
"It's adapting!" Aurora shouted, darting in with her sword.
She was right. I could see it through my enhanced perception—the creature's energy pattern was shifting, finding ways to distribute the gravitational stress across its elongated form. Learning to work with the changed physics rather than fight them.
Aurora's blade connected, carving through two of its appendages. Phosphorescent blood sprayed, but the creature barely seemed to notice. The severed limbs were already beginning to regenerate, new growth sprouting from the stumps.
'Regeneration. Of course.'
The creature lashed out with its remaining limbs, catching Aurora across the shoulder and sending her flying into the stairwell wall. She hit hard, sword clattering from her grip.
I poured more power into my gravity manipulation, crushing downward with everything I had. The creature flattened against the floor, concrete cracking beneath it.
But it kept moving. Kept adapting. Even under crushing gravity, it was learning to function.
Aurora's sword materialized back in her hand as she pushed herself off the wall. Blood ran from a gash on her forehead, but her eyes were clear and focused.
"We end this now," she said.
She moved with desperate speed, sword trailing silver light as she targeted the creature's elongated neck. At the same moment, I shifted my gravity manipulation, reversing the field to slam the creature upward into her blade.
The coordination worked perfectly. Aurora's sword met the creature's neck just as my ability launched it into the strike.
The phosphorescent head separated from the body with a wet sound.
But even then, the thing didn't die immediately. The headless body thrashed wildly, appendages reaching blindly for Aurora. The severed head landed nearby, eyes still glowing, jaw still working silently.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, both pieces began to dissolve. Much more slowly than the basic zombies, as if whatever animated them was more reluctant to let go.
Experience gained: 300
The notification appeared, but I barely noticed it. My mind was spinning with implications.
"It was learning," Aurora said, examining the blood on her sword before dismissing the weapon. "Adapting to our abilities in real time."
"And it was tougher. Stronger. Smarter." I stared at the spot where the creature had dissolved. "If the basic zombies are evolving into things like that..."
"Then we're in serious trouble."
Before I could respond, voices echoed from the hallway beyond the destroyed door. Human voices, calling out in concern.
"Hello? Is someone out there? We heard fighting!"
Aurora and I exchanged glances. The survivors. In all the chaos, I'd almost forgotten why we'd come up here.
"We're here!" Aurora called back. "It's safe now!"
Footsteps approached cautiously. Three figures appeared in the doorway, staying well back from the phosphorescent blood stains.
An older woman with graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses. A young man about our age with dark hair and oil stains on his shirt. A blonde woman with medical supplies clutched in her hands.
"You killed it," the older woman said, voice filled with wonder and relief. "That thing has been hunting us for hours."
"What was it?" the young man asked. "Because that sure as hell wasn't like the others we've seen."
I looked at Aurora, then back at the three strangers who might be our only allies in this transformed world.
"We think it was an evolved form," I said carefully. "The zombies aren't staying the same. They're getting stronger."
The older woman stepped forward, extending her hand. "Dr. Sarah Mills, Professor of Military History. And if what you're saying is true, then we need to move fast."