His mind raced at the horrifying nightmare.
A lumbering corpse stood in the dim torchlight, its rotting skin twisted and sagging. Hollow, milky eyes glowing a distinct purple outline stared back at him as it shuffled forward, with its arms outstretched.
It's rotting flesh barely clung to the tight and dried muscles. There were spots where disgusting yellow bones sticking out in places. It looked like old wounds or tears in the flesh.
As it shambled closer he could smell the air around it. It stank of thick decay and centuries of rot. It was wafting from its remains of what once had been alive.
Jace couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Their weight pulled his shoulders down as he stared in wide eyed horror.
“That’s a fucking zombie,” he muttered, the words barely a whisper over the pounding of his pulse. He felt the blood drain from his face, as he stared down death, face to face.
It shambled ever towards him, closing the distance, step by jerky step. Jace was frozen in terror, his fight or flight choosing the third option, freeze.
It stepped closer and closer until, with a supernatural speed, it lunged. Jace could see the tuat coiling of its muscles as it launched directly towards him.
Without thinking, Jace swung wildly, his fist connecting with a wet squelch against the cold clammy skin of its face. There was no reaction, not even the head moved much. The thing just kept coming, jaws wide with jagged black teeth.
“Shit—!” He barely dodged the creature’s grasp, stumbling backward. He fumbled over his own feet. He felt himself falling as he went back first into the stone column. Pain exploded violently in his skull and back.
The zombie didn't falter as it targeted his new location and swiped again, this time connecting. Sharp bonelike claws raked his right cheek as he slid down, gouging deep furrows into his soft skin.
This time it was a sharp stinging pain as he could feel the blood dripping down from the wound. His bottom finally hitting the floor as his hands immediately went to cup his cheek.
He couldn’t think through the pain. He could hardly breathe from the fright. He sat there staring up at the zombie as it swung its claw-like hand back readying for another swipe.
His mind flashed back to the car accident. A death he couldn't avoid. Now he was living again in some strange terrifying world and here he was about to die again. But this time. This time he could do something about it.
‘MOVE, DAMMIT!’ He screamed internally.
He acted. His palms slammed onto the stone floor as he shoved off of it, using the upward momentum to tackle the rotting corpse as it was stuck in mid swing. He thundered into its midsection. He hoped it would do something, knock the air from its lung or throw it off balance. Instead it was like pushing against a wall. Jace pushed with all his might, when he finally thought of something. He planted one foot and with the other he swiped the leg out from the zombie causing it to falter and fall, slamming backwards into the stone floor.
Without missing a beat, it hissed, clawing at him as they fell. The filthy dead finger bones raked across his back this time, slicing through fabric and flesh with ease. He felt the burning sting as he grit his teeth.
Quickly, he pulled himself up and off the corpse before it could take another swipe at him, barely missing another swipe with its other arm. He shoved himself back out of arm's reach while the zombie's dead eye followed him.
The zombie flailed, struggling to rise, until it rolled over and began crawling its way to him. That's when Jace noticed the leg and foot turned the opposite way. It must have happened when he swept out its leg.
Jace stared at the creature as it slowly crawled towards him. Maybe this won't be as hard as he thought it would be. Then his eyes locked onto its head.
Horror movies and games taught him to always go for the head with the undead. A small smirk spread onto his lips. He let the zombie crawl closer and closer until he was within range. With his foot raised, he stomped.
Bone cracked. Flesh slipped from bone. He stomped again. More cracking of bimone and even an eyeball popped out. He stomped again and again. Doing what little damage he felt he could do. It was exhausting and this zombie was tough. It was still swinging its arms madly as it clawed at him.
Stomp after stomp after stomp, until finally, with a sickening crunchy squelch, the skull gave way.
Jace staggered back, gasping, his body burning with exhaustion. As he took the next step backward, the brain simply and blood slicked boot slid under his weight and he crashed hard to the floor.
“Fucking dumb zombie.” He groaned air knocked from his lungs. He stared around and then noticed the cracked skull of the zombie, which he was right next to. The stench coupled with the sight of oozing ichor and brain matter made his stomach sour all over again.
He began to pull himself back up to his feet, as a notification blinked to life.
You have killed a Level 10 Undead Zombie.
Massive XP Earned!
ERROR…
Class unable to gain XP…
Massive XP forfeited…
Jace blinked. “Wait… what? What kind of bullshit is that?” He growled as he felt his anger well up. He felt his hands clench tightly into fists.
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He glared at the corpse again, rage slowly building within. Then he glanced back at the notification. A single thought filled his mind. All he could think about now was that Ralph meme with the school bus.
‘I’m in danger.’ He thought as he unfurled his fists. Rage slowly replaced by fear.
Before he could further his outburst, more text followed.
Boon Skill Acquired: [Reaper’s Touch] (Rank Max) – Harvest a small fragment of the soul of slain enemies, storing them within your core for future use. You can use Soul Fragments to empower abilities based on the amount of soul fragments used.
A chill ran through him. He wasn't sure if it was reading about the skill itself or the cold undead dungeon he found himself in. But there was something sinister. Something dark and ominous, behind the boards or around the corner.
It made him realize something. This wasn't just a game with the stat sheets, class, race. His stats… they weren't just some arbitrary numbers the system assigned. Even if they were it wouldn't matter. Most points were earned through leveling and, now, he couldn't even do that.
Whatever had been done to him—whoever had chosen his class, his race—it had really fucked him.
He didn’t know the extent or the repercussions, and right now, it didn’t matter. He had only killed one zombie in this entire dungeon and it was level 10. He had to curb stomped the bastard so many times before it finally died. What would happen if he ran into a whole group of them?
Jace flexed his fingers, the lingering sensation of something… foreign curling within him. Like he was pulling on something far away but light enough to pull without any effort.
Reaper’s Touch Skill activated.
+1 Soul Fragment Reaped.
You have gained +4 to Strength +4 to Endurance due to level discrepancy.
Soulreaver Core Progression Activated.
Soulreaver Core: 1/100
No. Not pulling just some random thing. The skill had activated. It had taken the zombie's soul or at least a piece of it.
Jace shuddered, although he didn’t feel any different. Not at first. Not until a warmth spread through the aching cold he was feeling. But there was something more, an undercurrent of… something else. Power? Hunger? Both? His mind thought of the voice again. He knew it had everything to do with it.
His eyes flicked back to the notification, ‘Soulreaver Core? That was new.’
It was sitting at 1/100, like an empty vessel waiting to be filled. Was it a resource? A power source? Or just another part of this class he didn’t understand? Was this what made him a Soulreaver? He could spend soul fragments, but that was all he could gather from the message he remembered.
The more he stared, the more questions he had. What happened when it filled? What happened to the souls he took and spent? Were they just… fuel? Or was there something more to it?
Jace exhaled sharply in frustration, shaking his head. No answers, just more questions, but he didn’t have the luxury of overthinking it. Not right now.
He was forced to ‘Survive’, and he would use it. He’d use every advantage at his disposal and worry about the ramifications later. Right now, his life was still on the line.
That brought his thoughts to the stat points he’d earned. A +4 to Strength. If he couldn't level due to his class maybe this was his saving grace.
As if responding to his thoughts, his stat sheet popped up.
The moment he focused on notification for it. He could feel a faint pulse of energy stirring within him, originating in his chest before spreading outward in a slow, tingling wave throughout his body. His muscles tightened ever so slightly, the shift was subtle. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to bring a small smile to his face.
If these zombies were anything like the ones he knew, pure force would be their undoing and head shots. With the extra strength it should be a little easier.
He could feel the sting from his wounds. The fabric stuck fast to the blood and every time he moved even the slightest, it agitating the wound. He groaned looking down at his work shirt thinking about the wound on his back and face.
He needed to be able to take a hit and survive, but how could he get any endurance? Would just have to kill every monster he came across in the hopes of gaining more endurance? He had already gained some from the zombie, maybe that was his only option right now. He wasn't sure if trying to speed run the dungeon just to get out safely himself wasn't an option. He was still new to this world, he couldn't level, and everything here was at least level 10. It would be best for him to kill any mobs on his way out.
The next thought hit him hard. If this was a dungeon there would be bosses, maybe even mini bosses…
With a single thought, he pulled up his stats and the new increase to strength and endurance. The interface responded effortlessly, displaying only what he wanted to see without cluttering his vision. Convenient.
He smirked, appreciating the efficiency.
This world might be unfamiliar, but at least the system played fair—so far.
Name: Jace Halloway
Race: Soulborne (Unique)
Class: Soulreaver (Unregistered)
Level: Error, current class unable to gain experience
Health: 99/164
Stamina: 50/83
Mana: 89/89
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 8
Endurance: 15
Intelligence: 9
Wisdom: 8
He didn’t fully understand how regeneration or health really worked in this world, but instinct told him that it wasn’t just natural healing.
His health and stamina were already lowered from that battle alone. How was he going to survive if he couldn't heal the damage already done to him. Shaking off the thought, he turned his attention to the more immediate concern—his surroundings.
The, so far, undead dungeon.
The Hallows.
His gaze dropped to the motionless corpse at his feet, the foul stench of undeath still clinging to the air.
His eyes flicked toward the only way forward—the archway of bones. Beyond it laid a narrow corridor that stretched into darkness, the eerie green flames of the wall torches casting flickering shadows that made him terrified more undead were lurking nearby.
But, as of now the path ahead was clear, but the unknown pressed against him like a weight on his chest. Making him hesitant to step forward.
“Right. No point standing around,” he muttered, though his voice carried more confidence than he felt.
One fight down. Who knew how many more to go?
If this was just the start…
A new problem hit him—he was unarmed. And judging by his last battle, just pushing and kicking wouldn't do shit to a tanky level 10 zombie.
His gaze swept the area, a shimmer of green light glinted off of something metallic around its hilt. He searched for it and landed at the corpses hip, barely visible beneath the tattered remnants of its clothing and decayed skin was a rusted sword.
Without hesitation, Jace knelt, yanking the weapon free. He stared at inspecting it. It was a poor excuse for a blade, but it was better than nothing. Its rusted edges had almost turned the blade's edge serrated. He shrugged and tightened his grip around the corroded leather hilt.
Exhaling slowly, he looked at the path ahead. The dancing shadows through the bone archway and took his first step forward—into the unknown.
His pulse raced as he stepped through the bone archway and into the shadow beyond, a wild panic bubbled up inside him. He was on edge waiting for anything to jump out at him, but nothing did.
He walked forward slowly round a bend in the tunnel when he heard it. The green light from the torches Barely lit any of the corridor up, but the sound was unmistakable.
A slow sound of shuffling feet broke through the silence, and Jace’s head whipped toward the noise.
From the shadows at the far end of the tunnel, two figures emerged, dragging themselves forward in jerky, unnatural movements. Their skin was stretched tight over yellow bones, their skin mottled with rot. Empty, milky eyes glowed with hunger and purplish hue. More zombies.
His breath hitched. Fear gripped him as his mind scrambled for answers. He had trouble fighting only one, now there were two.
The instinct to flee hit him hard, but the walls of the corridor provided no escape but backwards and even then there was no exit he could see. He turned frantically, searching for any way out, but there was nothing—just the dead zombie behind him.
