Ethan's breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted across the ruined streets of New York. His boots crunched against shattered glass, his body drenched in sweat and grime. Behind him, the unholy chorus of mutant screeches and moans grew louder, the echo bouncing off the skeletal remains of once-great buildings. They were coming. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
His bullets were long gone. His rifle, once his best companion in the hunt, was now nothing more than dead weight strapped to his back. All he had left were his twin hunting knives. He gripped them tightly, their worn handles familiar in his calloused hands.
He had to escape.
Ducking into an alleyway, he pressed himself against the cold brick wall, chest rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath. The air was thick with the smell of rot and decay. He could hear them—chittering, snarling, tearing through the streets. Their hunger was endless.
Then, silence.
A cold dread crawled down Ethan's spine. Why did they stop?
That was when he felt it.
The ground trembled beneath his feet. A deep, guttural growl rumbled through the city like distant thunder. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him. Slowly, cautiously, he peeked around the corner.
And that's when he saw it.
A creature unlike anything he had ever encountered.
It stood nearly ten feet tall, its grotesque body covered in thick, jagged bone plating. Its arms were long and unnaturally muscular, ending in razor-sharp claws. Its face—if it could even be called that—was a mess of writhing flesh and piercing red eyes. And worst of all…
It was looking right at him.
"Shit."
Ethan barely had time to react before the monster moved.
With terrifying speed, it closed the distance, its massive hand grabbing him by the torso. Before he could even fight back, it lifted him like a ragdoll and slammed him into the side of a building. The impact knocked the wind out of him, pain exploding through his ribs.
But the monster wasn't done.
With inhuman strength, it hurled him through the air. Ethan barely had time to brace before he crashed through a storefront window, the glass shattering around him. He hit the ground hard, coughing up blood as pain wracked his body.
He had fought mutants before. He had killed plenty of them.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
The monster stalked toward him, each step sending tremors through the earth. Ethan struggled to push himself up, his vision swimming. He had to move—had to do something. But his body refused to cooperate.
He was going to die.
Then—BANG!
A single gunshot rang out through the night.
The bullet pierced the creature's chest, slamming into what should have been its heart. The beast let out a deafening screech, its clawed hand gripping its wound as dark, black blood oozed out. The ground beneath it cracked as it stumbled backward, its agonized howls filling the city.
Someone was here.
Someone had just saved him.
Ethan's blurry gaze followed the source of the shot. A figure stood atop a nearby building, rifle in hand, their face obscured by the darkness.
"Move if you want to live," the voice called out.
Ethan didn't need to be told twice.
Ignoring the searing pain in his body, he pushed himself up and ran.
The Level 2 Mutant was still shrieking, its red eyes blazing with fury as it turned toward the shooter. But Ethan wasn't going to stick around to see what happened next.
Whoever this person was…
They just bought him a chance to survive.