Kade's footsteps echoed through the ruin's silence, slower now, dragging slightly.
No skeletons. No death chases. Just the sound of his own shoes scraping stone and his breathing—too loud, too empty.
He glanced at the last spot he saved. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been minutes. He was still alive, sure. But now what?
"Okay. So I'm not dead," he muttered. "Big win. Gold star."
The phone's flashlight flickered as if in agreement—or protest. Hard to tell anymore.
He stopped and leaned against the wall. His stomach growled. Loudly.
Right. Hunger.
No inventory screen for that. No health bar slowly ticking down. But he could feel it creeping in anyway. Dry throat. Hollow gut. That subtle ache beneath his ribs. He hadn't eaten since… waking up here?
"Cool," he muttered. "So saving doesn't stop your body from falling apart. That's… fair."
He pulled up the menu again. Maybe he'd missed something?
---
[SYSTEM MENU]
Name: Kade Marlowe
Status: Alive (Exhausted, Hungry)
Inventory:
— 1x Wireless Mouse (???)
— 1x Rusted Pendant
— 1x Rusty Sword
— 1x Cellphone (47%)
Skills: None
Abilities: None
Options:
— Save Game
— Saved Files: [4]
---
Kade stared at it. Then closed the menu.
"What's the point of saving if I'm just… dying slower?" he said aloud. His voice sounded hoarse. Like it didn't belong to him anymore.
He kept walking.
Every hallway looked the same. Broken stones, claw marks, dried moss creeping across old carvings.
No loot, no vending machines, not even bones he could search. Just death and stone and air too thick to breathe right.
His legs gave out an hour later. Maybe more. He couldn't tell. Time was slippery here.
He sat with his back to a cracked pillar, phone in his lap. The flashlight had dimmed, trying to save power. It barely lit the corridor ahead.
He wanted to laugh. "I saved a game where I slowly starve to death."
But the laugh didn't come..
He started walking, again.
He didn't feel brave. Or clever. Or prepared.
But the idea of starving to death with a perfectly working save system?
That was too stupid to allow.
His stomach groaned. A low, pitiful noise like a dying engine.
Kade stared into the dark, that might've been a wall three hallways ago. Or twelve. He didn't know anymore.
Every turn looked the same.
Every floor had the same damp chill, like the whole ruin was sweating.
"Why is this place always wet?" he whispered.
His voice echoed, then got swallowed by the silence.
There was no rain. No ceiling leaks. Just walls that wept and floors that glistened with moisture that never dried.
He stood again, sword tapping the stone as he leaned on it.
His legs wobbled like jelly.
Tried retracing his steps, but there were no steps to retrace.
Up? Down? Left? He couldn't even tell which direction the entrance was anymore.
"I'm lost," he admitted. Saying it out loud made it feel heavier.
The system didn't help. No compass. No minimap. Just the same glowing screen in his hand and a 47% battery taunting him with every flicker.
He found another corridor.
Took it.
Dead end.
Turned around.
Another hallway.
A room full of broken rubble and smashed urns. Nothing inside. Not even rats.
Even rats would've been a step up.
Kade looked at the Save button again.
Hovered his thumb over it.
Then lowered his hand.
"What's the point?" he mumbled. "I save here, and tomorrow I'll just be… a little hungrier."
He wanted to scream.But all he could do was walk.
Then—
He stopped.
Something was different.
Not the walls. Not the air.
The smell.
A slow, creeping rot rolled into his nose—thick and wet like meat left out in rain. It clung to his throat, made his eyes sting. His stomach clenched, unsure if it was from hunger or the sudden urge to throw up.
He turned. Sniffed.
Yeah. That way. Down the hall with the crack in the wall and the floor that dipped just slightly.
And then he heard it.
Crunch.
Not footsteps. Not stone.
Bone.
Something heavy had stepped on something brittle.
Another sound followed.
A low, guttering growl that vibrated in the walls. Wet. Guttural. Wrong.
Then a thud.
Like a hammer meeting flesh.
Then again. Thud. Thud. Followed by a wet, dragging scrape.
Kade's breath hitched. His fingers tightened around the sword's hilt, even though it was still useless and rusty.
Whatever was ahead…
It wasn't lost.
It wasn't starving.
It was eating.
Kade took a step forward.
Then another.
Because what else was he going to do? Sit and starve in the dark?
Curiosity wasn't courage. It was just something. And right now, something beat nothing.
The scent got thicker the closer he walked. It felt like it coated his tongue—mildew, blood, rot, something sharp like rusted iron.
He passed the cracked wall. Flashlight trembling in his grip. Each step echoed too loud. His breathing louder.
Thud.
Crunch.
Growl.
Closer now. Whatever was making the sound was just around the bend. A jagged chunk of broken wall let him peek in without stepping through.
He held his breath.
And looked.
A room. Half-collapsed. Moss hanging from the ceiling like dripping cloth. At the center, something moved.
Huge. Hunched.
Gray-green flesh stretched over bones too long and arms too thick. One hand—if it was a hand—gripped a chunk of something red and broken.
The other hand held a bone.
Not like a club.
Like a fork.
It was smashing it into a cracked skull with slow, mechanical strikes. Over and over. Eating what was left inside.
Krrrk.
Thud.
Krrrk.
Kade clapped a hand over his mouth.
He should've backed away. Run. Saved the game and prayed.
But he couldn't move.
Because beside the thing… half-buried in the rubble…
Was a body.
Not just bones. Not old.
Still fresh.
Still armored.
And beside that—just barely poking from the debris—was something shining.
Something metal.
Something that looked a hell of a lot like—
Supplies.
Kade stared.
His brain tried to make sense of the thing crouched in the ruins, feasting like some nightmarish scavenger.
"What the hell… is that?" he whispered.
It was wrong. The way it moved. The way it hunched like it had too many joints in the wrong places. One leg dragged slightly. Its skin looked half-rotten, but its muscles were still moving like it hadn't gotten the memo.
Not a skeleton.
Not quite a zombie either.
"Some kind of… ogre?" he muttered, barely breathing. "A zombie-ogre?"
The creature growled again, deep and rattling like something boiling in a furnace. It shoved more bone into its mouth with thick fingers that cracked the skull like an eggshell.
Kade's stomach turned.
Kade's eyes locked on the body again.
Fresh. Still armored. Not rusted. Not ancient.
The kind of intact that didn't belong here.
"Where the hell did he come from?" he whispered.
Not from this tomb.
Which meant… there was another way in.
Or a way out.
Hope surged up—raw, dangerous. If that guy had supplies, a way in, maybe even a team…
Kade's eyes flicked toward the glint of metal near the corpse. Something smooth. Shiny. A canteen? A pouch? A weapon?
He didn't get the chance to look closer.
Because the ogre-thing stopped eating.
Its head jerked up.
Sniffed.
The air shifted. Wet, rancid breath steamed in the cold.
Kade's heart slammed into his ribs.
The creature growled—deep and low, like gravel grinding inside a furnace.
Then it turned.
Eyes—or what might've once been eyes—locked onto the hall.
Right at him.
The flashlight in his hand gave a dying flicker.
Kade didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
The thing took a step forward.
Bone still clutched in one hand.
And Kade realized—he wasn't the only one who smelled blood.