Astral Hoarder: Embrace of Malevolence

Zimo regarded this as a lesson in humility. Jacques whispered those words while guiding Zimo down the stairs. Zimo simply scoffed. Humility? No, he was a sacrifice, utilized to satisfy their curiosity and their inability to control their circumstances. 'At least we're not like him, forced to face the outside world,' they were likely thinking.

Zimo gazed into the oil-darkened streets swarming with flesh-eating zombies, then back at the individuals he once considered human, observing him with interest and wonder as he was led to his demise.

None of them spoke up for him. Absolutely none of them. Zimo sighed inwardly... If he was in their place would he speak up for him? Possibly not. This must be the selfishness of humanity. Zimo shook his head. He was where he was. Ifs would not change anything.

Whether he was in there or out there, his situation was going to be the same. He'd be surrounded by monsters either way.

The WebStorm Technologies building was a sprawling complex nestled in the heart of the city he was in, Cape Mine City, its sleek, modern facade rising high above the bustling streets below.

At that moment, Zimo stood in the spacious lobby that was adorned by polished marble floors and minimalist furnishings. He could see what was happening outside through the glass panelling and that was how he knew that the only thing waiting for him out there was death.

Zombie-like people were walking out there, all of them wandering around, some of them being people he knew for sure as the groundsmen and security guards he would greet every day. When they sensed the movement coming from Zimo and the others who were following him, they began walking over with some even running over.

Zombies were crowding around, banging on the glass door menacingly while releasing growls and groans before leaving yet again, into the darkness There was a dark miasma out there as if the black rain was evaporating and turning into black clouds that looked to strangle anyone who dared come out.

Seeing how crowded the massive glass doors were, Zimo decided he would have to go through the basement garage entrances. 

That was not a bad plan. Since there were so many of them up here at the front, there might be fewer down there and at the back. And anyway, Zimo thought highly of his ability to navigate the parking garage at the back.

Zimo turned back to the Stairs only for the people who were watching from the safety of the stairs to warn him not to chicken out. 

"Why are you still here?"

"Yeah, you've been fired! You have to leave!"

Zimo ignored them and pushed his way through to go down the stairs. Everyone turned to each other with glints of amusement in their eyes as they followed him downwards.

Sick bastards. 

Zimo still heard the murmurings of some people who were concerned among them though, but their voices were being drowned out by everyone else who just wanted to see something post-worthy for their social media.

Zimo was not too bothered about this. If they truly cared they would speak louder. Or do something. But either way, he would leave. After all, in all that time he had been walking down, he had felt something break inside him. He didn't know what it was... maybe it was his faith in humanity... or something else. Zimo just did not have the thing he might have had before, that thing that would have made him stay where he was and try to fix things. 

They were probably just people who could not stand hearing the voice of their conscience and figured if they did the bare minimum, which was telling people to stop making fun and goading, then that would be enough to feel less guilty and ashamed.

And the people who were making fun of him? Zimo was used to being made fun of, even in his childhood for being an orphan and in his teenage years for wearing the same clothes and not having money in school.

Being looked down upon was not something new to him, it was just a way of life. As far as he was concerned, people only tried to bring down those they felt were above them. That was something he had proven with his effort in all this time, going from a pauper to someone worth something and having a bright future in front of him. 

As he kept going, walking through the underground parking to the gate that was the exit towards the street in the west, he kept a calm head on his shoulders as he made plans.

Zimo had a third-hand Toyota Corolla in the parking garage, but he could not take it out. The streets were packed and crowded with those things. He had to get out of there and start running to his planned location immediately.

Looking at the box of goods he was carrying, Zimo sighed and threw them in a bin at the side, earning himself jeers from his former workmates.

"Wow, he threw away his awards and certificates too, I guess he doesn't care about our company…"

"Remind me to burn everything in there later."

"Let's burn it now, I don't believe he won't come running back."

"Pfft Hahaha, good idea!"

Zimo ignored them. He had already taken the most valuable thing out of there: his pens. They were simple Clickable pens with blue ink inside them, but they were the most valuable thing in there because of the situation.

A Pen was the only thing he could use as a weapon. He could have surely found something better in the storage rooms, but Zimo was sure he would have been accused of theft or something, no matter how ironic it would have been.

Reaching the gate, Zimo took a moment to ready himself before turning to the guard, who was looking at everyone in shock and confusion. There was a crisis out there. Why was everyone gathered there?

"Hey! This guy just got fired. Open up!"

"I'm sorry, I can't do that—" said the security guard, who wanted to continue to explain himself but he was ignored as Jacques interrupted.

"I don't care about what you can't do. I'm only interested in what you should do. He was just fired by the CEO and he was told to vacate the premises. Now I understand if you want to stop us. That would be cute. But I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised to know that if you do this you would be joining him soon enough."

The security guard took a moment, trying to speak but not finding the words until he turned to Zimo who stood there worried but ready and then back to Jacques and said, "What about the monsters?"

"What about the monsters? That is none of our business as company employees, right? Now tell me, are you this company's employee or not?"

The security guard looked conflicted for a moment before sighing and opening the gate halfway, having been stopped by Jacques because he wanted to see Zimo crawl his way out of there. After all, a beast like him was only allowed to crawl his way out.

Zimo understood it immediately. He was being humiliated one last time before he finally humiliated himself out there by dying. And they would watch all of it happen. Hey would watch him die.

Everyone watched from the distance, telling Zimo to get out before the zombies came in. Zimo also did not say anything, merely crouching and stepping outside, making sure not to touch the black fluids with his exposed body and also closing off his nose from the black clouds. His first instinct might be right. There might be an evaporation going on, sending blackness up into the skies.

Looking down at the only part that was touching the oily black stuff, Zimo sighed. His shoes were better since they were leather. He had seen what happened to those who touched that fluid and it was not pretty. He would hate to mess up his body like that. 

Right after making it out, the gate was closed behind him, allowing him to see a ramp going up and into the outdoor parking area of the building. As he breathed in the air, Zimo felt himself go sick for a moment, before regaining his senses. It smelled horrible. 

Luckily, he had gotten himself some clothing and wrapped it around him in those last moments. Throwing those pieces of clothing away, he then continued, looking around. Otherwise, that blackness that covered him would have affected him way too much.

Well, it was time to move.

Promising himself to never come back here or even give anyone from this hellhole a helping hand, Zimo began walking up the ramp. Since they had thrown him out when he needed them the most, then he would do the same.

And where was he going to go? The coffee shop he had seen previously. The same coffee shop whose coffee shop lady had gotten dragged out from before. That was why he had chosen the East exit because it was the closest to the coffee shop, which was approximately 100 meters away.

That was 100 meters that the fastest of humanity could make in 9.6 seconds. But he was not the fastest of humanity. He was just a normal person who was just trying to live. And with the slick fluid on the floor... 12 seconds. Take it or leave it!

Taking a deep breath of the disgusting-smelling air, Zimo started running with everything he had in him, staking his life on this one decision.

1 second had passed.

As Zimo sprinted, his leather shoes making a clapping sound on the floor as they made splashes of the oily black water beneath his feet, he spotted some movement, possibly in reaction to his presence.

Shit. He had not seen anyone in the vicinity. It must be a Zombie! A few moments later, as Zimo was about to reach the Gate, he saw what he was dreading the most. A Zombie was running after him, following him out.

3 seconds had passed.

This must be a zombie that had followed one of the executives' vehicles back and stayed in the garage instead of leaving. Hearing a sound, Zimo turned to the street ahead of him, which was a two-way street, and noticed that there were now two zombies going for him from another side making it a total of three zombies wanting to devour him.

Just brilliant. 

Taking out the pen from his shirt pocket and holding it tight in his right hand, Zimo continued running, heading out of the Gate and into the street, which was even blacker than the normal tar road streets because of the sludge on top of it. 

Zimo adjusted his trajectory, making sure he was beelining straight to the coffee shop. It was still a distance away though. And the more time Zimo spent out there, the more Zombies noticed his presence.

6 seconds had passed.

"Grragh~~"

"Rooo~~!"

*tah-tah-tah-tah!*

Ignoring the groans that were coming from all around him, Zimo continued sprinting on the tar road, the noise of his shoes drawing attention from all over, something that he cursed with all his heart.

At that moment, he probably had ten Zombies who were approaching, also sprinting with their all. Zimo saw two Zombies approach him from the front and cursed.

These two were the closest to his goal and might be the biggest obstacles to him reaching where he wanted to go. There was no stopping or changing course now because he had to finish this in as short a time as possible. 

He would just have to find a way through.

8 seconds had passed

As the zombies got closer, Zimo finally saw their disgusting appearances. One of them had a lip that was hanging off to the side and Zimo could even see his fleshy muscles that were stained with a yellowish-black substance on them, making his skin crawl.

The other was slower, apparently, and Zimo felt like he probably knew why. One of its legs was so destroyed that it was nearly completely bone. And yet here it was still running faster than most people.

How insane. This was not even scientific anymore.

"Groorr!!" as the first big Zombie reached for Zimo, he pushed its arms away to the side and stepped forward, kicking its leg on the side of the knee and making it drop downwards some. But that seemed to be a situation it was looking forward to as it lunged at Zimo, intending to bite his neck or chest regardless.

But would Zimo let it do that?

Zimo used the pen he was carrying, stabbing it in its temple, allowing some black blood to flood out of its brain and onto the pen, which he let go of very quickly, pushing the Zombie backwards to the other one that was approaching from the front and tripping the skinny zombie with the body of the fat one.

He did it! 

But there was no time to celebrate. While the zombies were on the floor, he had to keep moving! Zimo started sprinting again, his breathing laboured due to his lack of exercise in the past few years. But at that moment, Zimo felt something grab at his blazer.

Oh no, the zombies that were behind him had gotten closer in the time he was occupied with the two. Zimo's mind worked quickly as he bent his body, allowing his blazer to be pulled away before continuing his run and leaving a few zombies stumbling and falling behind him.

He had to keep going. He had to keep going. That was the only thing ringing in his mind at that moment. Nothing else mattered. Life. He had to seek life in any way he could.

10 seconds had passed.

Continuing his sprint, Zimo soon reached the front door and opened it with a push, making it inside, before quickly closing the door behind him and looking out at the Zombies that were approaching, he knew that he could not hold them out by himself, so he dragged a chair and angled it, before placing it as a stop-gap. 

*Bang!*

"Grooorrr…."

"Gryaahh!!"

Zimo let out a breath as he watched those things that were practically begging him to come out. They couldn't enter. That was good. Taking a few steps back, Zimo sighed in relief, taking deep breaths one after another due to his physical state.

At the same time, there was this rush in his system, something he could never explain no matter what. It must be that thing, right? Being at the edge of death, he finally revelled in the beauty of life.

That was intense. If he could, he would never want to experience that ever again. Luckily none of the black fluids and other things had landed on him. He was safe... but still...

He had killed someone. 

No matter if the person was a Zombie or anything else, that did not change the fact that Zimo had killed them. Zimo did not know how to feel about it, especially since he was sure he had seen them around in the past few days, and that was something he was sure of.

That was a person with a family. He… had killed a family man. Nothing he did or said to himself would ever change that.

Getting the idea out of his head, and grabbing more stuff from the sides, Zimo plugged the door and stood by the side in calm happiness.

Hearing his stomach growling, Zimo rubbed it in understanding. That was the other reason he had come here. It was because he knew the owner was dead and he also knew that there must be a lot of food here. He had been watching the whole time since this was the closest food place to the building, and he had seen zombies go in at first, but later come out.

Now looking around at all the pastries, Zimo licked his lips. He couldn't wait.

But... He couldn't be sure that there was nobody here. He had to be cautious. Turning to the store, Zimo took out the pen and began slowly walking in, his heart rate going up again as he walked deeper into the place.

And then he heard something... a guttural growl that sent shivers up his spine.