Zombie RPG - Ch 1 (Patreon)
Content
"Oh god, I hate running..."
"I feel that."
My friend hummed from beside me. The next moment, we took off on a jog.
It was only our warmup, but every time I stepped up to that line, it was like I could feel all the pain that was soon to come.
At this point though, I had gotten used to it. I just liked to complain sometimes. In the end, I'd sprint until I puked and felt like dying.
It was my third year in college, and I was a decently accomplished track athlete. I was definitely in the physical prime of my life, my body sculpted like a Greek god.
But did that help me with girls? Not in the slightest. My kissless ass was still running solo, and it didn't help that I refused to indulge in the escape of romantic media. Thanks, but I'd rather not be reminded of how eternally single I was. I had friends for that.
One of my few friends and I did a few sprints and stretches, preparing ourselves physically for the day's workout. It was standard routine, something we'd done dozens of times before. As for mental preparation? That involved realizing that there was no escaping the pain, a long term process and not something done right before a workout.
Today, it was lifting first. Walking into the gym, we received our list of workouts and got to it. Guys and girls started racking weights, doing warmup reps before throwing on more plates.
Deadlift was the focus, so the guys were quick to throw on three plates. I stepped inside the hex bar and tightened my lifting gloves. Grabbing the handles, I took a few sharp breaths before standing up. The muscles in my legs and ass quivered and rippled until my body stood tall.
The plates slammed on the floor before I did it again. Three times I stood up with over 300 pounds pulling me down. After the last rep, I dropped the bar, stepping out so the next man could go.
Then, I did some tricep work, smiling as I watched my arm muscles flex with beautiful definition. After that came some box jumps, each of the guys clearing 42 inches with ease. Then, I circuited back around to deadlifts.
This time though, I threw on another plate. I ignored the competitive shouts as I clamped down one of the clips, stepping into the hex bar.
"Aghh!!!"
This time, I let out a loud grunt as I pulled 405 pounds. Pounding the floor on descent, I pulled it two more times. After dropping it, I took a deep breath, feeling a bit lightheaded. That didn't stop me from acting normal though, clapping my friend's hand in cheer.
The entire gym was loud as the entire team slammed metal and grunted in exertion. If someone had stepped in halfway through the workout, they'd be hit with the musk of body odor. But nobody within the room noticed, going about their workout as normal.
Every time I stepped up to lift, it was always in competition. I wasn't the fastest on the team, and in an attempt to get faster, I always tried to lift more. If it were a year or two ago, I'd be slacking and avoiding getting too tired in the gym, knowing that we had a running workout right after. But I had grown out of that mindset.
It felt good, being fast. It felt good whenever I was lifting 400 pounds off the floor. I liked it when I felt powerful during my sprints. I felt like a real athlete, a man at his physical prime and at the top of the world.
If only I could have that mindset in school...
After the gym workout the team left to do sprint workouts. These were the workouts that made me feel like puking, especially the long sprints. To hold your top speed for 200 meters or more was not easy, let alone doing it several times in a row.
But I did. I stepped up to the line with all the other guys. Some were taller, some were shorter, and several were faster. But I wasn't that far behind. We were all fast, and during the workout, it came down to who could perform the best each and every rep. They were competitions and of themselves.
"Damn, I feel weak."
That didn't stop me from complaining, though I really did feel weak. My friend shook his head at me.
"You were literally lifting four plates, dude."
"You should've been lifting four plates, dude who's faster than me."
"No thanks. My hamstring isn't feeling great."
"When does it ever?"
I chuckled before stepping to the line. eight of us lined up, and upon hearing the whistle, took off.
After those first five steps, my weakness faded, and I glided down the track. With each step, I focused on pounding the floor below me in an attempt to keep up with those at my sides. Still, after 150 meters, they gained on me, and we crossed the finish line with me in the middle.
"Damn!"
"I can already feel it..."
"Come on, we got two more."
"How many minutes of rest?"
"10 minutes..."
Everyone was heaving for breath as we walked back to our bags and grabbed our water bottles.
I was especially tired. I never had amazing stamina, definitely not enough to keep up with some of the other sprinters. But through all my conditioning, my stamina was absolutely far better than it was a couple years ago.
Sprint then rest. It seemed easy. We just had to go all out for 24 seconds, then rest for 10 minutes. But those 24 seconds took its toll on the body, sapping it of all its energy. There was a reason we had a small amount of reps. Any more than three, and it would be impossible to perform well. At some point, it wasn't worth it to keep pushing.
After the second sprint, I was on the floor, feeling like I wanted to die. It was never my muscles that hurt first, but my stomach. I always threw up before reaching my physical limits.
But I absolutely hated the dreadful feeling of vomiting, so I held it in as best I could. I didn't stand up for at least 6 minutes before trudging over to my water bottle, taking a small swig.
"I'm gonna barf after this next one."
My friend mumbled, sprawled out on the floor and sweating through his shirt. It was amazing how simple running could bring a man to his knees. Then again, humans were built for endurance, not speed. I always liked to think we were going against the natural order by pushing ourselves to run faster.
Finally, the third sprint came around. We all walked to the line, still tired from the previous sprint. But when that whistle blew, we pushed away our fatigue and took off.
Whenever I was dead tired, I often thought about how slow I would run the next rep, or how I might not be able to finish. I thought it would be impossible to sprint as I did when I had energy.
But after that first step, seeing the other guys break out and scrape their toes across the ground, I always locked into gear. I'd pull on my remaining reserves, bringing my knees up and slamming my foot into the hard rubber beneath me. My toe would drag across the ground, a technique to increase one's turnover rate, but often instead used to feel fast.
My vision would narrow, muting out the noises around me. But I would still see the other guys to my right and left. It was always amazing, how they'd manage to gain on me even when I tried my hardest. Even if I pulled ahead of them early on, when we approached the finish, they always managed to stride through first.
But it didn't discourage me. I had gotten used to it. That's what happens when you run in the big leagues. I never sought to be the best and fastest.
*Woosh!*
"Agh!"
Throwing our bodies across the finish line, everyone grunted. All of us slowed and then dropped to the floor, heaving for all the air we could get.
My head throbbed as if pushing mercury through my blood vessels, the light from my surroundings too stimulating to keep my eyes open comfortably. Then, my stomach started churning as if punishing me for pushing myself to my limits.
I barely stood with a slight burst of adrenaline, dragging my body over to the nearby grass field before falling to my knees. I hovered there for a couple minutes before my core contracted.
"Bleghh..."
"Ugh, I'm about to join you..."
Another guy fell similarly nearby before puking just like me. Neither of our heads raised as our stomachs emptied, just concentrating on the horrible feeling inside our guts.
I recovered first, slowly walking over to the bench by my bag. Everyone else was there, still tired from the final sprint. They all took sips of water while recovering, and I joined.
"Damn coach! You're killing us!"
"Hate me now, thank me later. You all did good though."
Our coach trotted on over, smiling at our wallowing figures.
"How are y'all feeling?"
"I'm dying..."
"My leg hurts."
"I need some damn water!"
Everyone blurted out, the coach chuckling at their remarks.
Meanwhile, I sat there while observing the area. Specifically, the girls on the team.
Track teams were always divided according to the different events. I was on the sprints team, so I naturally didn't practice with the pole vaulters. But damn did I wish I did.
Maybe it was because I was in some kind of sport all my life, but fit girls were always my type. And if a girl were on a college sports team, then she was fit.
I stared more than I'd ever admit, but hey, I wasn't the only one. All us guys with surging testosterone were filthy little beasts, though that didn't make me any less ashamed of my lustful nature.
The girls in each of the different events were all hot, and some painfully so. It hurt me to think that I'd never date any of them. The anguish of knowing that despite my smoking hot body and decently good looking face, I didn't have the game or nerve to get any of them.
Who said that getting buff and shredded got you girls? What a liar!
And why do I always have to have such a dirty mind? I'm better than this.
I closed my eyes as recovered from the workout, draining my bottle of water and changing my shoes. Then, I just hung around with the team.
Some people rolled out, massaging their tight muscles. Others went to go get an ice bath. Cooling down and doing some maintenance on our muscles and joints was standard yet important post-workout procedure. I should do more, but going for a light jog and rolling out my legs was about all I did.
Around 1oo track athletes were gathered around our recovery room, going about their business while some just hung out. I rolled out my calf while chatting with some of the other guys around me.
"Hey Jack."
"What's up?"
I turned my head at the call, facing another friend. His name was Kevin, one of the black guys on the team and one of the top three fastest sprinters. I was always trying to catch up to him, but whenever I got faster, so did he. Still, we were good friends.
"Are you gonna be on tonight?"
"Probably." I shrugged. "I got nothing else to do."
We often played some video games at night, along with a couple other friends that we knew mutually beyond the track team.
He nodded. "Nice. I'll talk to you later then."
"Sure. Let's try not to be on so late this time though." I smiled as we clasped hands, doing a fancy handshake. The night before, we had been up until the late AM, and neither of us got enough sleep. I had barely pulled myself out of bed the next morning.
"Heh, we better get a win faster then. I carried all last night, so it took a bit longer than usual. "
"You so did not! You choked more times than I could count! We almost won three times!"
"I still got more kills."
"Three times, Kevin! Stop choking and finish!"
"Whatever! I'm leaving!"
"Three times!!"
I yelled back as he left the stadium, heading back to his car. After a laugh, I began packing as well.
It wasn't long before I was on the road. Of course, like every other day in southern California, traffic was atrocious. I could be having the best day of my life, but as soon as I started driving, my mood was ruined and I became a grumpy old man.
I mean, who thinks that poking out in front of a car going 20 mph faster is a good idea?
"Mirrors people! And basic situational awareness! Use them!"
I fumed while exiting the freeway, taking a few roads before pulling up to my house. I stomped to the front door, greeted by my mother.
"Oh, hi Jack. How was practice?"
"Fine. Hey mom, why are there so many idiots on the road?"
"Beats me."
My mom shrugged as I put my stuff away. Want to know where I got my driving skills and road rage from? It was that woman, right there.
And no, I did not drive aggressively. I drove with a purpose, unlike people who went 15 mph under the speed limit in the left lane.
After taking a much needed shower, I proceeded to devour an entire pound of food, consisting of some leftover steak and pasta from the night before. I was a big advocate for red meat and all its glorious protein and juicy goodness.
After that, the day was spent lazing around. Scrolling through my phone, mindlessly watching some tv shows, reading one of my books. Yes, although I could be a musclehead, I was a well read musclehead. I had brains and brawn, though when I lost races, I felt like my brawn was lacking, pushing me to build more brawn with my big brain to guide me.
And then came the evening. Upon logging into my computer, I was greeted with a flurry of notifications from Kevin. I jumped into the voice chat.
"Will you stop badgering me? Damn."
"Well hurry up next time! I just got done with homework."
"Crap! That reminds me."
I suddenly shouted, my heart jumping for a second before remembering the assignments I had to do.
Kevin was not pleased.
"Are you kidding me?! What have you been doing for the past several hours?!"
"Not homework. Give me an hour or so."
"Fine, but hurry up!"
*Ding*
I logged out of the voice chat before quickly pulling up my assignments. Massaging my temple, I got to work.
It was only three hours later when I logged back in.
*Ding*
"Finally! What took you so long?"
"Sorry I ate some more dinner as well."
"Dammit Jack!"
Kevin and I yelled at each other some more while diving into our game. The shouting and cursing never stopped as we continued well into the night. Of course, midnight escaped us and we didn't stop until 3am.
"Oh god. We need to get off!"
"Little bitch. I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Eat my ass."
With that, we said goodbye. I smiled and shut my computer down. It was another late night gaming session, and I would pay for it.
Sure enough, when the next morning swung around, I was groggy as could be. I barely crawled out of bed, scarfed down a breakfast, and left 2 minutes after I needed to.
But I still made it to practice on time with my 'purposeful' driving. Kevin and I exchanged a handshake.
"Sup."
"Sup. We got a meeting."
"On a Wednesday? Alright then." I sighed, sitting down among the crowd of people.
The entire team had gathered just before practice for a team meeting, an occasional thing where the head coach announced... something. It usually involved stuff I didn't care about.
"Damn, I was supposed to do some javelin too." I mumbled and remembered my alternate event.
Kevin glanced at me with a bit of surprise. "You're still doing that?"
"I am. I'm not an amazing sprinter, so doing some javelin can help me with scholarships."
"Dude, you're fast."
"Not as fast as you." I smirked.
"Alright, listen up!"
Suddenly, the head coach stepped forward and started the team meeting.
As expected, it wasn't anything I had the mind to care about. I just sat there among some others, trying to stay as comfortable on the rough floor as possible.
That's when something changed, though.
I stared off into space. As I was doing so, I felt a jolt in my mind. For a second I thought someone had poked me or something, so I ended up looking around.
Everyone else had started looking around too. Even the coaches seemed confused, the head coach stopping his series of announcements.
That's when we heard it.
It came to us in a deep, rumbling voice that seemed to shake the sky.
{It is time...}
Those three words shook me to my core. It wasn't the power held within them, but the sheer supernatural occurrence that gave me goosebumps.
My head snapped to Kevin.
"Hey, you heard that?"
"...Yea. What the he-"
He was interrupted.
{Not by circumstance... Not by inevitability...}
{True, unbridled prosperity... At the tips of your fingers...}
{But remaining ungrasped...}
The voice seemed to come from the sky and from within our bodies. It came to me in a perfect English language, but I couldn't help but feel like it wasn't actually a language being spoken. It felt more... raw. Like pure information being delivered to my mind. My surrounding teammates could only remain still, disbelieving of what was happening.
{All have forsaken the ultimate frontier... The corruption of the degenerate swaying the virtue of the paragon...}
{It is time... The next step...}
{Thrown into the depth of extremity...}
{Evolve...}
{Reach the ultimate frontier...}
{Rejoice, Paragon...}
{The Ascendancy has graced the Earth!}
{And the Demise have come for ruin!}
I continued to sit there. Chills made my entire body shake. I was overwhelmed by this mystical occurrence, feeling it impossible. Every fantasy in my head couldn't prepare me for this.
I almost didn't notice the burning pain coming from within me.
At first I just felt really hot, as if I were standing out in 110 degree weather. My entire body felt like it was overheating. That's when I felt my organs churn, my blood boiling.
For a moment, I became painfully aware of all the filth inside my body. It caused me to vomit, as if trying to get it all out. My skin sweat oil as well, and I felt incredibly disgusting.
And I wasn't the only one. Everyone around me, including the coaches, dropped to their knees and started heaving. The ground was coated with all kinds of fluids and food, causing the entire team to crawl outward and avoid the filth and smell.
The pain only became worse, but after what felt like 10 minutes, I realized that it wasn't just pain I was feeling.
All the cells of my body... they didn't just overheat. It was almost like they were generating some kind of energy. It was more than just cellular energy. It caused me to, despite the pain, feel powerful. I felt like I could do a few of my hard workouts before getting tired.
It felt like I was evolving.
This feeling helped me stay lucid throughout the torture that only got worse. The energy inside of me burst, and I continued to rid my body of all the crap inside of it. Although it was painfully abhorrent and disgusting, I felt better every time I expelled the filth. It was like the energy within me could move more, could grow more. The filth was only inhibiting it.
This continued even after an entire hour had passed. By that time, although the pain wasn't any lesser, I was able to adapt enough to take in my surroundings.
There were a few people who had collapsed, unmoving as if asleep. I cringed when I saw them laying in their own filth, but didn't mind it that much since I was practically covered in mine.
Most people though were fighting through the pain, also looking around. Kevin was one of them, and we turned to each other.
"Hey Kev... How's it going?" I asked through strained breath.
He chuckled, the act causing him to spit out brown liquid. "Never better. What the hell... is going on?"
"I don't know..."
I grit my teeth. Fighting through this pain for so long took its toll on my mind. I almost wanted to go to sleep, but I fought against the feeling.
"Whatever is happening... it's not good. Just stay awake. Don't... go to sleep. In case anything happens."
I spoke aloud, the entire team likely hearing my voice since I was the only one talking.
I didn't know what was going on, but it was safe to assume the entire world was changing. In that case, I couldn't go to sleep. Something like that would be way too dangerous. Something inside of me told me so.
It seemed like people began to handle the pain better, and some even stood up. But no matter what, the pain never dissipated. It only got worse as each minute passed. Every second, I could feel my mind's lucidity being sapped away.
"...Water."
When hour 2 passed, I struggled to reach behind me. I slipped off my backpack and drew one of my water bottles. Throwing up so much had made me not only hungry, but thirsty as a horse in the desert.
Upon drinking some water though, I immediately threw it back up. Kevin, who was about to mimic me, stopped in his tracks.
"Well... that sucks."
He chuckled, breaking out into a fit of coughs.
Like that, we could only continue to suffer. After hour three, many more people had succumbed to their fatigue, falling asleep after collapsing on the floor.
Being completely honest, it finally began to scare me a bit. I wasn't sure if they died after collapsing. Was this some sort of test? A test of our fortitude? What happened to those who collapsed?
With a beating heart, I crawled over to a guy nearby who had collapsed. I put my fingers on his neck, and was relieved when I felt a heartbeat.
"They don't die after collapsing!"
I shouted, hoping everyone could hear me. Maybe they were scared of the same thing. I couldn't be sure. I just wanted to give everyone some solace.
At that time, there was another shout.
"Their body gets cold though!"
This time, it was one of the girls. Thinking, I put my hand on the guy's back. It was true. His body was really cold, almost too cold.
"Dammit! Don't fall asleep!"
Another one of the guys shouted, slapping his face in order to stay awake. I began to feel it too. At some point, my body was no longer overheating, but chilling. It wa the kind of cold that made you want to snuggle under a warm blanket and fall asleep...
"No!"
I shook my head. I couldn't fall.
"Come... to me! Let's fight this together!"
Then, another guy spoke. He barely pulled himself to his feet, waving down those who were still awake.
With all the effort I could muster, I climbed to my feet. My body protested, my limbs feeling so incredibly weak. I felt like I could barely lift 5 pounds, let alone my entire body. Everything shook, about to buckle.
But I trudged forward, taking a step toward that man. A few others did as well, while some could only climb to their knees.
After several minutes, there were only 8 of us who could stand and gather. Five men and three women. The only thing we did was come closer, but it seemed to boost our energy.
Mutual suffering. It was a great thing to bond over.
Hour 4 approached.
"Stay standing. We don't know what happens... if we fall asleep."
One of the men spit out those words. His name was Albert. He was one of our best throwers, a big man with incredible strength.
"Hopefully nothing bad actually happened to the others..."
Another spoke from beside Albert. Martin, one of the distance runners and a very skinny man. She hugged himself and shivered. It turns out all of us were feeling the cold set in.
A girl let out a sharp breath, a pole vaulter named Ashley.
"You guys felt that heat earlier? It felt like I was cooking myself."
"Yea, no kidding..."
Albert agreed.
Beside me, Kevin was barely standing. All of us were shivering from the cold that seeped into our bones.
He stumbled, and I moved to support him. "Woah there big guy. Don't tap out on me."
"I'm... all good..."
He mumbled, barely keeping his eyes open. Even when he tried to shake himself awake, it didn't work. I wasn't faring that much better.
Truthfully, I should be scared of falling asleep. So scared that I would never wish to sleep again. But I couldn't be.
It seemed like falling asleep was inevitable. I surely didn't have it in me to last for another hour. And when that time came, was I supposed to assume that I died?
At this point, I didn't know if I even cared. The cold didn't just freeze my body, but seemed to infect my mind with drowsiness. I didn't have the capacity to even worry about looming death.
So when Kevin stumbled again, I was barely able to prevent him from falling on his face. Instead, he fell on his shoulder, falling asleep soon after.
Two of the other guys were quick to go after that. Nobody had talked for a while, just concentrating on staying awake.
With the guys went the girls. Two girls fell, leaving one standing.
In the end, I stood there frozen like a statue. Me, one other guy, and one other girl. All I did was focus on maintaining my balance. I felt like once I fell over, I was done.
A competitive spirit even rose up within me. I looked at the other two through my barely open eyes, smiling a tiny bit.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem like I would win.
A gust of wind, and I tipped. It felt like an eternity as I fell to the floor, watching those other two figures remain standing. I'm not sure if I even felt the crash against that hard rubber floor, too numb to even react.
And so, my eyes snapped shut.
'Even in this, I couldn't win.' I thought, my mind finally running blank.