Chapter 68: The Cruel Truth

Chapter 68: Chapter 68: The Cruel Truth

The hallway remained silent.

Grace lowered her gaze once more, as though repeating her own name helped ground her.

"...Grace."

Kai was the first to recover.

"Okay. Great. That’s a normal name." He nodded to himself. "That’s good."

Erik shot him a look.

"What?"

Kai shrugged.

"After zombies, magical beasts, and vampires, I think I’m entitled to be cautious."

For the first time since opening the door, Grace’s expression shifted.

Not amusement.

Confusion.

She didn’t understand what he was talking about.

Erik decided to get straight to the point.

"Miss Grace, I’m not sure how much you remember, but something happened last night."

Grace slowly lifted her head.

"What happened?"

Erik and Kai exchanged a glance.

There was no easy way to explain this.

"The dead have risen" Erik said calmly.

Silence.

Grace blinked.

Kai decided to help.

"Zombie apocalypse."

"Oh."

Kai blinked.

"Oh?"

Grace lowered her gaze, appearing to consider the information carefully.

"I see."

The brothers exchanged another look.

That was not the reaction either of them had expected.

"Do you..." Kai began cautiously, "understand what zombies are?"

Grace nodded slowly.

"People who died."

"And then they become dangerous."

Kai stared.

"Well."

He looked at Erik.

"At least somebody has been reading."

Erik ignored him.

"Do you live alone?"

Grace looked past them for a moment, as though searching for the answer.

Then she nodded.

"Yes."

Something about the way she answered bothered Erik.

Not because he thought she was lying.

But because she sounded as though she had only just realized it herself.

Kai, however, had already reached into his pocket.

"Perfect."

He pulled out another folded sheet of paper.

"I made these."

Erik closed his eyes.

Of course he did.

Grace accepted the paper carefully.

She unfolded it.

Her eyes moved slowly across the page.

Congratulations.

We have officially entered the zombie apocalypse.

Rules to survive:

Do not walk toward growling sounds.

Do not attempt to hug anyone who is growling.

If you hear growling, run.

Do not make unnecessary noise. Zombies can hear you.

Final warning:

Do not ignore this message.

Zombies are now officially real. May you be one of the lucky ones who survive.

P.S. If you feel like thousands of ants are crawling through your bloodstream, congratulations. You have awakened a superpower.

Grace stared at the paper for several long seconds.

Then she carefully folded it.

"Thank you."

The sincerity in her voice caught Kai off guard.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Yeah. Well. Don’t thank me yet. Try not to die first."

For the first time since opening the door, Grace looked directly at him.

Then, unexpectedly, she nodded.

"I’ll try."

The answer was so earnest that Kai didn’t know how to respond.

Erik stepped forward.

"We live on the twenty-fourth floor. Apartment 2401."

Grace repeated the numbers quietly.

"Twenty-four."

"Apartment 2401."

As though committing them to memory.

"If you need help," Erik continued, "come find us."

Grace looked at him.

For the first time since opening the door, her expression changed.

Not confusion.

Not fear.

Relief.

A small one.

Barely visible.

But real.

"...Okay."

Erik nodded.

Then he turned.

Kai followed.

Hrimnir lingered for a moment longer.

The cub’s silver eyes met Grace’s.

Again, that strange feeling returned.

Not hostile.

Not dangerous.

Just...

Wrong.

Then Hrimnir turned and padded after his contractor.

"Be careful of that one. She doesn’t belong to the pack." he warned.

Erik slowed for only a moment. Not because of Grace.

But because Hrimnir was questioning another person’s place within the pack.

The apartment door slowly closed behind them.

Grace remained standing in the hallway for several seconds.

Then she looked down at the folded piece of paper in her hands.

Her fingers tightened around it.

"Erik."

She whispered the name softly.

As though afraid she might forget it.

***

The fourteenth floor was a graveyard.

The moment the elevator doors opened, the smell of blood hit them.

Penelope covered her nose instinctively.

Killian didn’t react.

The hallway itself appeared undisturbed. No overturned furniture. No broken windows. No signs of a struggle. It was almost as if everyone had simply gone to sleep.

And never woke up.

The growling told a different story.

Apartment 1401.

A family of three.

The father had turned first.

Judging from the blood splattered across the dining room walls, the mother had fought back. She had failed.

Their daughter couldn’t have been older than ten.

Penelope didn’t say a word.

Neither did Killian.

The zombies turned the moment they entered.

The father lunged.

Killian moved.

The metal handle of the kitchen cabinet twisted and stretched beneath his control, forming a thin blade that sliced cleanly through the air.

The father collapsed.

The mother followed seconds later.

Penelope closed her eyes for a brief moment before ending the little girl’s suffering herself.

The apartment fell silent.

"Three," Killian said quietly.

Penelope nodded.

Three dead.

Three turned.

Three gone.

Apartment 1402 was worse.

A family of five.

Grandparents.

Parents.

A little boy.

No one survived.

No one even had the chance.

The battle itself lasted less than thirty seconds.

When it was over, Penelope stood in the middle of the bloodstained living room and stared at the family photos hanging on the wall.

Birthdays.

Vacations.

Graduations.

A life.

Gone.

She raised her hand.

Flames blossomed in her palm.

Within moments, the apartment was engulfed in fire.

Neither of them looked back.

By the time they reached the thirteenth floor, Penelope’s heart felt heavier than when they had started.

"I thought more people would survive," she admitted quietly.

Killian remained silent for several seconds.

"So did I."

The answer surprised her.

Before she could respond, a scream echoed through the hallway.

"HELP!"

Another scream.

"PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Penelope reacted immediately.

She sprinted toward Apartment 1302.

The front door was open.

A woman in her thirties stood on top of a dining table, clutching a frying pan with both hands while screaming hysterically.

Below her, a zombie repeatedly slammed itself against the table legs, blood dripping from its mouth.

The moment the zombie sensed Penelope and Killian, it turned.

It never made it more than a step.

The metal curtain rod above the living room window bent violently.

A sharp spear of steel shot through the air and pierced directly through the zombie’s skull.

The corpse collapsed.

Silence.

The woman stared.

Then she burst into tears.

"Oh my God!"

She jumped off the table and ran toward them.

"Thank God! Finally! I’ve been screaming for hours!"

Penelope blinked.

Hours?

The woman grabbed Penelope’s arm.

"Take me with you."

"What?" Penelope asked.

"You saved me!" the woman said as though it were obvious. "You have powers! You have to take responsibility for me!"

Penelope opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

Killian didn’t.

"No."

The woman froze.

"What?"

"I said no."

Her expression immediately changed.

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean," Killian said calmly, "your survival is not my responsibility."

The woman’s face reddened.

"You can’t just leave me here!"

"We can," Killian replied.

"And we will."

The woman turned to Penelope.

"You’re not going to let him do this, are you?"

Penelope stayed quiet. Not because she was hesitating.

If anything, she did not think Killian was being cruel.

But because hearing it said aloud felt real.

"Ma’am," she said carefully, "you need to gather supplies. Water. Food. Medicine. Lock your door and don’t open it for anyone."

"What if it’s you?" the woman asked desperately.

Killian answered first.

"Especially if it’s us."

The woman stared at him in disbelief.

"You people are insane."

"No," Killian corrected. "We’re surviving."

"Don’t put your life in our hands, we are not saints." Penelope added.

The apartment fell silent.

For the first time since they had arrived, the woman seemed to realize that no one was coming to save her.

Not the government.

Not the police.

Not them.

Slowly, Penelope stepped backward.

"You should focus on surviving," she said quietly. "That’s the only way to live now."

Then she turned and followed Killian out of the apartment.

As the door closed behind them, Penelope remained silent for several seconds.

"Honesty is cruel sometimes" she finally said.

Killian continued walking.

"I know. But lying to her wouldn’t have helped her."

Penelope looked at him for a brief second and proceeded to the 12th floor.