Apocalypse: Generic System by Macronomicon (shoe dog free ebook TXT) 📕

The ground was rough, covered in jutting rocks and discolored patches of stone, along with strange tree-like structures that seemed to branch upward out of the ground, pulsing with molten rock.

“Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” Ron japed as they entered the chamber.

Jeb scanned the ground. Everywhere were the corpses of zombies. Some of them were crushed, others burnt. There were also the remains of the zombie’s enemies. Obsidian black caterpillars about four feet tall and ten feet long. They had jaws big enough to sever a leg, and they seemed like they knew how to use them.

They must have some kind of fire attack too, because most of the zombie corpses around them were charred.

In the distance, there were some stone/fire golems crushing zombies like ants.

They crept a bit further in, and Jeb saw one of the caterpillars still alive, glowing a fiery orange as it bit at its attackers and sprayed them with a white-hot death juice.

It seemed like they darkened on death.

“Let’s mark a good spot to fight with no pitfalls, then start kiting them in.” Jeb said. “Ron, can you make these things into zombies?” Jeb asked, tapping one of the caterpillars with his foot.

“Can’t hurt to try,” Ron said, rubbing his hands together.

***Casey***

It was hard to explain how holding baby Casey made her feel. Happy was a gross oversimplification of the rush of emotions when she held her daughter close.

My daughter, not his. Casey’s thoughts soured as she remembered her Samuel catching a flight to New York and having the audacity of asking her parents for the money he needed to abandon her.

What kind of crock of shit is that?

Baby Case started fussing, her arms and legs wriggling under the swaddling blanket.

“I’m sorry, was mommy making scary faces?” Casey said, nuzzling her daughter and checking for poopies.

If you ignored the ever-present danger, the half-excavated cave, the weird living utensils and blankets, the lack of diapers, the limited amount of healthy food, the smell, and the dirty, torn clothes, this would be an idyllic moment between mother and daughter.

“You’re going to need a bath soon,” She muttered, rocking baby Casey while the rest of the camp took care of itself, thanks to her Class.

The two wood mannequins Jeb had made had somehow communicated with each other through gestures and nods, before lying motionless on either side of the camp, to all appearances dead.

Unlike the other things she’d brought to life, they didn’t seem interested in bouncing happily in time to some music only they could hear. Their behavior seemed to carry Jeb’s underhanded nature. Perhaps it was their behavior following their form.

Or maybe their creator rubbed off on them.

Casey was conflicted about Jeb. His behaviors and mannerisms reminded her strongly of her dad. They were both roughly the same age, and had been in the army, but…

They’re not the same person, she shook her head. She didn’t know if Jeb wanted to keep her safe because it was the right thing to do, or if he had some ulterior motive, but he’d already done more for her than her dad ever had.

“Hey there!” an unfamiliar voice called from the distance, and Casey’s heart started slamming in her ribcage.

“Shit, shit!” she whispered under her breath, setting the baby down as gently as she could and picking up the water gun.

Casey poked her head out the cave entrance and spotted three men approaching, nearly at the edge of the camp. They were ragged, with bags under their eyes, covered in superficial wounds, and carrying well-used weapons and armor.

They peered curiously at the motionless golems, but ignored them as they approached the scarab meat stew, expressions brightening.

Get up! Aren’t you supposed to defend me!? Casey thought. If her defenders could hear her thoughts, they didn’t do anything about it.

Nothing to do but go out herself.

“Hold up!” Casey said, stepping out of the cave and aiming the water-gun at the three men.

Her eyes widened when she recognized them: Three of Eddie’s goons.

Fuck!

Chapter 18: Black Betty

“Whoah!” The closest man said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. Casey could smell his B.O. from across the camp, causing her nose to wrinkle involuntarily.

“Stay over there,” Casey said, motioning with the water gun.

“Is that a gun?” One of the men said, peering at the heavy hunk of metal in her hands. Damn thing almost weighed as much as she did, but there was a reason for that.

Casey breathed in, and entered her Myst Core. In the center of her being was a crumbling old bible, so weatherworn and overused that it was falling apart, pages dropping out of the seams. She mentally picked up a page that had fallen out of her dad’s bible and jammed it into the gun, pointing it at a nearby boulder.

SSSHHHHH!

A blast of concentrated water lanced out and bore a hole through a boulder jutting out of the ground beside the rightmost man. The gun bucked in her hands and nearly knocked her off her feet, but she wrestled it back down.

“Close enough.” Casey said, her voice steady and grim.

Inside, she was freaking out.

What the hell am I supposed to do!? They’re gonna kill me! They’re big and smelly and strong, and I’m so fucking screwed! Jeb, Jess, hell, I’d even take Ron, where the hell are you!? Why aren’t the guards guarding me!? They’re my creations aren’t they!?

The men took a few steps back, watching her warily, allowing her to catch her breath and find words.

“What do you want?”

“Umm…Food and a safe place to sleep…Miss.” The one in the front said, arms still raised.

She considered it for a long minute, adrenaline making her body ache with the need to run or fight. Running would mean abandoning everything