Number 7

"That's right. When we fell asleep, it was December 20th, 2037. Yet today is June 20th, 2038. And the world as we know it... has rotted away."

As Shane emitted these words, the man before him seemed to freeze.

His expression slowly turned sour, and his eyes glanced over to the girl before they focused on the door.

"I... see."

Then, walking forward with determination, he stepped out.

"Then I have no time to stay in a place such as this. Stella. Follow closely behind me. So long as you don't venture from me, I will protect you."

"Ah, wait just a minute! Don't you think you should take a moment-"

Gordon spoke out as the man passed him, however as soon as he spoke the man turned and gave him a deadly glare.

Then, easing his expression, the man let out a sigh and smiled.

"I suppose you are right. After all, the legendary hero Oscar always took his time to make preparations before he faced the Queen of Evil."

"But in the end he lost, didn't he? So why would that matter?"

The girl seemed to look at the man with confusion, approaching the group from the window.

Holding up a finger, the man smiled as he spoke, taking on the true demeanor of an instructor.

"Regardless of whether he won or lost, his intentions were noble. He did everything he could, and even ended up giving his very life for the people."

"Yeah, but at the end of the day that's just a story." The girl said with the roll of her eyes

"Indeed. Just a story. However it is one we should learn from. If even someone who prepared so thoroughly could not win against such odds, then we too must take caution."

Facing the boys, the man looked around before approaching them.

"So? I still have yet to hear why you two are here on campus. If what you said is true, then that would mean that you were here in the middle of the night when everyone fell asleep."

"Well.... I was...."

Gordon looked to the side, a guilty expression overcoming him.

"He was being bullied, and I'm his little brother. I came with my mom to find him, and I ran ahead to find him. Then we fell asleep... and when we woke up... the world was gone."

Shane spoke up even as Gordon faltered, taking the lead quickly.

He realized that Gordon seemed to be stalling in his responses, unsure what to even say.

'Perhaps it is because of his past, but we can't allow these two to find out about the other three. If we look like we're hiding something, things will only get worse from here.'

"Hmm.... an odd story..."

"Hey... I don't want to hear about this anymore."

Speaking up was Stella, who tied her blonde hair behind her head as she began to walk out.

"Let's get going. Even if we sat here and talked all day, will that actually do anything?"

"Hm... you have a point. Ah. I know. If those creatures have taken over the world, then we will surely need weapons, no? I see that the boy is carrying a... broken piece of wood... but that won't be enough. However there is a sports shed down in the courtyard. Shall we make our way there for now?"

As soon as Shane had caught a glimpse of the man who attacked the zombie, he had hidden his own weapon behind his back, underneath his shirt - thus he appeared to be unarmed, while Gordon carried a piece of wood which had been stripped from the floorboards.

The reason Shane had hidden his weapon?

Instinct.

'I can't trust anyone. Not this man, not this girl... nobody. We're hiding literal monsters from them... so what would happen if they were to attack us, thinking that we've allied with the enemy?'

Shane didn't exactly want to deceive these people, but he felt that if he was going to do so that he should take every precaution possible.

And that included hiding the fact that he had a weapon.

The two boys looked to one another, then to the girl before nodding.

"I suppose that makes sense.", Gordon stated.

"Yeah, that's fine,'' Shane agreed.

Standing up, the four all headed out the door, allowing the built man to take the front.

"Could I take that piece of wood? If I'm going to protect you all, then I should be the one with the weapon... right?"

A chill.

Shane felt it for only a moment, but as the man asked this, he felt a chill down his spine.

'What... is this?'

"Ah, here you go..."

With a submissive expression, Gordon handed the man the weapon.

'That... I feel that was a mistake.'

Something was off.

He didn't know what or why, but as the four walked through the hallways, Shane found himself lingering at the back of the group.

'Marcus is lurking behind us... so I should stay as close to him as possible...'

Thinning his eyes, Shane considered telling Gordon as well to stay back, but instead he did not.

'Doing such a thing would only draw attention. But even so...'

As the four walked, he witnessed the back of the man who towered over him.

That back should have been reassuring, and the girl who stood right behind him seemed to be looking down to the ground, almost like a daughter following her father.

'Even though following someone strong like that should be reassuring... why do I feel so uncomfortable?'

"Hey boy. Don't fall too far behind. Those who strayed too far from the protection of the hero were corrupted and brainwashed, you know."

Stepping forth with haste, Shane kept his distance.

'There is something off about him. Ah... that's it.'

Realizing it, Shane maintained his position, close enough so that he wouldn't be scolded yet far enough that he could make a run for it.

'Despite his words... the way he walks... the way he carries himself... it isn't as if he's protecting us from something else. Rather... it's as if he's guarding us from being taken from him.'

----

Before the group was a run down shack.

"Ah!! To think that it became this dirty... It really has been six months, hasn't it? But that only six months would make it like this..."

The man grabbed the door only to end up ripping it right off the hinge - not even because of his physical strength, but rather because of how weak the door had become from the rust and rot that engulfed the area.

"The plants are sapped of life... the air is filled with must... and the buildings are on the verge of collapse... it's almost as if the life sucking weed Tera strolled through this place."

Throwing the door to the side, the man let out a sigh.

"Oh well. At the very least, it looks safe out here in the courtyard for now. Stella. Could you wait out here for a moment while me and these boys go find something to protect ourselves with?"

"Eh? Don't you think... that I should-"

"I will protect you. You have no need for a weapon."

"I... see."

When Stella looked up with concern, she was met with a stern response from the man, however in just moments his expression returned to a smile.

"Don't worry about anything. I'll do everything I can to help you. If I need to, I'll even give my life."

"Thank you..."

The girl lightly smiled, however Gordon could tell without even looking.

That smile was a false one.

And behind it was fear.

It was the same smile that he would give to Arnold when he was told to get them money or to meet them behind the school.

'What... is going on here?'

It was then that Gordon felt a nudge in his side.

Walking past him, Shane entered the shack without reserve.

And with a whisper, Gordon heard these words.

"Arm yourself."

Widening his eyes, the child walked past him and into the shack.

"There's a bench over there. Why don't you wait and watch. Just scream if anything pops up, alright?"

Pointing to the bench outside, the man directed the girl to do as he instructed.

"Ah. Ok."

The girl obediently obeyed the man, taking a seat as the three headed into the shack.

'Just now... as he spoke...'

However Gordon knew.

He knew that tone of voice.

He knew the situation well.

'The statement he just made... was not a request.'

'It was an order.'

"Come on, boy. You said your name was Gordon, right? I'm Mr. Pertan.” The man said in a conversational tone. “I was the honors history teacher for the 10th grade students, so I focused mainly on world history. But as you probably have heard at this point... I especially love the history of the ancient Vythguard Empire.”

Tapping his chin for a moment, the man corrected himself.

“More particularly, it's folklore and myths about the era of the Determined and the Indeterminant."

"Ah... I haven't... learned too much about that...", Gordon said as the man placed a hand on his shoulder, walking him forth into the shack.

"Really!? That's too bad! Such great stories too. They tell so much about what could happen to a society if evil is allowed to flourish too much. The Determined you see, was a figure of pure evil."

Familiar.

The feeling Gordon felt right now as he walked into this shack filled with all sorts of run down sports equipment, was all too familiar.

"You see, there are some people in this world who go around corrupting everything and everyone they come into contact with. And it is the duty of the righteous... to prevent such people from doing those things."

Wrapping his arm around his shoulders, the man leaned into the boy with an immense bloodlust.

"Don't you agree?"

Then, in that instant, the man held his hand back - and caught something.

In his hand was a bat.

And on the other end of it was Shane.

"Now why would you do that?"

Slowly turning around, the man faced off with the boy as a smile plastered his expression.

The boy was looking at him with piercing eyes, yet even as his very weapon was ripped from his hands with immense strength, he showed not a bit of weakness.

Smash!

Throwing the bat to the side, the man cracked his knuckles as he looked back and forth.

"It would seem that your brother is quite a problem child. Did he always act up like this at home, Gordon?"

Grabbing a golf club from the stand next to him, Shane continued to glare right at the man as he reeled back for a swing.

"And he continues to attack me... for absolutely no reason."

"Gordon. Run."

In that instant, Gordon saw his chance.

He darted out from behind the man, and at the same time Shane swung the club right at the man's face.

As for why he ran, he did not know.

But his instincts told him to do so.

Therefore, he listened.

He darted off in that instant, with a single thought in his mind.

'I have to get out of here... and I have to find the others.'

However only a moment was allowed for him to have this thought, for his brain rattled in the next instant as he fell to the ground.

"Ugh!"

His vision blurred, yet in the corner of his vision he saw it.

In the same moment that the man had slammed Gordon to the ground with one hand, he caught the club which was aimed right for his head with the other.

'No.... not again....'

"Boy... what do you think you're doing?"

Ripping the club from the hand of the child, the man began to tut it like a whip.

"Aiming for my head like that... could you have been trying to kill me?"

The boy turned around to run, however his throat was immediately grabbed by the man before he could escape.

And then, he was thrown to the wall - a splatter of blood bursting from his mouth as he smashed through an assortment of crates.

"Ugh!"

The man now approached the boy, tapping the club to his hand with a demonic expression across his face.

"Just like the rebellious child Kyle Ruthobold, who refused to accept the kindness of the Indeterminant... and instead fell into madness, pursuing his own demented form of justice."

Holding back the club, the man looked down on the boy with disgust.

"You are a mistake."

"No. I don't think so."

It was at that moment that a voice was heard from behind the man.

Mr. Pertan brought down his hand to swing the club, yet it was caught - held by another so that he was unable to bring down the punishment onto the boy.

Swiftly turning around as he let go of the club, Mr. Pertan held up his fists as an irritated smile overcame him.

"A businessman? No... a monster... who can speak?"

Flipping around the golf club and grabbing the knife of flesh in his free hand, the well dressed zombie seemed to flash his rotten teeth.

With slicked up hair and an undone coat, his tie seemed to loosely hang about him as he prepared to fight.

"A monster? Perhaps that would be correct. But before anything else..."

With an arrogant grin, the man who took the form of a zombie twirled his knife around as he used it's blade to fix his hair.

"I am a professional."

----

"Hah...."

Closing his eyes for a moment, the muscular man grabbed a tennis racket from a shelf beside him.

"A professional... you say?"

His blonde hair fell from his face, almost covering his eyes as he fixed it with the flip of his head.

"That's right."

Responding to the man, the creature who wore a suit nodded with a grin.

"I am a professional. And I am here... to perform my duty."

"You.... haha.... are you trying to imitate that scheming businessman? The traitor to humanity who allowed himself to become a monster... despite the fact that he was not a monster in form?"

It was that moment that Marcus felt an immense thud.

He didn't even have enough time to see the swing before the side of the racket slammed into his head, thrusting the man to the ground with a thud.

"To think that you would try and imitate such a vile figure. The mastermind behind the schemes of the rulers of the Dictatorship which ensued after the era of chaos... the Overlord of Exploitation.... Trevor."

"You seem to be quite obsessed with those ancient myths, don't you think?"

As he stood up, Marcus gripped his knife as he stepped forward, blood running down the side of his head where he had been hit.

"I am a history teacher.”, Mr. Pertan replied as he prepared himself for another attack. “And the most important thing about history is not whether it was real or not."

Rushing forward, the man grabbed the forehead of Marcus, shoving him right through the wall with a crash.

"The most important thing is learning from the mistakes of others."

----

Shards of wood sliced through the brain of Marcus as he was slammed into the wall.

His entire body was in pain, and the teacher's grip didn't seem to loosen for even a moment.

'Shit....'

He didn't know where the other two were, for currently his vision was blocked by the plaster that surrounded him.

And then, he felt it.

"Ugh!"

A fist slammed into his gut, harder than any punch Marcus had ever taken before.

And then, again.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again. Again. Again.

"Do you think I will forgive the existence of a monster like you?"

The bloodthirsty voice of the man was heard as Marcus was viciously beaten.

"The entire world has been destroyed because of those things. And now I find an intelligent one. Spit it out, monster. What is your true identity?"

Marcus was then ripped from the wall to see that the two boys were still laying barely conscious, wounds covering their bodies as they had been slammed into the walls just before.

'Shit... they... aren't able to get up.'

'They won't be able to run...'

'And right now...'

Marcus bit down hard, grinding his teeth in irritation.

'It hurts.'

'Everything... hurts.'

The man wrapped his hands around the throat of Marcus, looking him in the eyes with the stare of death.

"Are you going to talk, monster?" The man cooed, blonde hair splattered with blood.

"Who... am I?"

It was then that a smile slowly crept up Marcus’s face.

Everything hurts.

The pain throbbed throughout his body, and under no circumstances should such a smile have formed.

"Heh...."

A laugh.

And then, thinning his eyes, Marcus looked to the man who stood above him, choking him harder as every second passed.

"Wouldn't I like to know that?"

----

"You.... you're fucking with me."

Marcus was thrown to the ground.

He grunted, blood spewing from his mouth.

He had already dropped his weapons, and as the man approached him, a hockey stick was held to his throat.

"I would like to get information from you, monster. About why this world is the way it is... why those two attacked me... why everything has gone to shit... and what has happened to my precious students. However... it looks like you have no intention to talk."

Pulling the stick back, the man thinned his eyes in suspicion.

"Therefore, I won't spend a second fooling around in this place."

Slice.

The sharpened end of the hockey stick slid right through the neck of Marcus, cutting it clean off as if it were a knife through butter.

The immense pain of having his head sliced off surged within Marcus, however this lasted only a moment.

'Shit.... again....'

As he found his eyes closing, darkness engulfed him.

'At least... now he has to deal with that thing.'

[Who said anything about me lifting a finger?]

As Marcus had his final thoughts, his eyes would have gone wide - had they not already been closed for good.

[I'm here to watch you humans destroy one another. Do you think I would let a man like that leave this world so easily?]

[Heh....]

[He still holds use... to entertain us.]

Once again, Marcus was reminded.

The thing inside him was not his ally.

It was the enemy of humanity.

However, whether Marcus was still a member of humanity....

Even he himself did not know.

Thus, Marcus died.

For the fifth time.