Chapter 3:
Clark Rogers didn't sleep well. No, it was better said that he didn't sleep at all. But that didn't matter because at the end of the day, he was alive and well. Sleep? He could do it during the day in a secure place once he found it.
But he'd have to do it quickly, otherwise his decision-making will worsen, and that can kill him.
After making sure there weren't any noises around, he slowly opened the door to his little cramped room and crawled out, letting out a sigh of relief and comfort. A good stretch later, he surveyed his surroundings from the master bedroom facing the front street.
So far, nothing worth pointing out. An empty street with just one or two cars abandoned, the houses, some of their doors were wide open, while others were closed. Though their windows were smashed.
He could see a ghoul lying under a tree's shadow, as if resting from a night's hard work. Going to another room, one facing the backyard, same situation. The neighborhood seems quiet, no ghouls in the backyard.
Those three gunshots really did save his butt.
With a sigh, he decided it was time to hit the road, taking out a jerky and a chocolate bar from his backpack.
While he was surveying his surroundings for danger and keeping an eye out for a possible looting place, his mind returned to the recent abilities and item he got.
It was creepy how normal it felt having them, that he didn't even think of it being a dream this morning.
Sighing, he switched View Earth with Sharpen and used that to sharpen the hammer side of his pipe. He spotted a small branch peeking out of a house's front yard, and with a down yard swing, the branch got cut, as if it was cut with a blade.
"Nice." He let out, letting his thoughts run on how to efficiently use this ability now.
On his way to the edge of the small town, he saw one of those crawling ghouls and decided to test his sharpened weapon again.
It was missing both legs from the knee down- no, wait… The legs were crushed, which explained the crawling. What it lacked in mobility, it seemed to make up for in persistence, its arms dragging its dead weight forward with that same hollow, mindless determination they all had.
Clark kept his distance for a moment, just watching it.
It had noticed him. The milky eyes had fixed onto him the second he'd stepped into its line of sight, and the moan it let out was low, thankfully, not attracting any of its brethren. Its arms kept pulling. Slow. Pathetic, almost.
He adjusted his grip on the pipe and started walking toward it.
He could afford to be deliberate about this. To actually test the ability properly, rather than swing blindly in a panic.
Five meters. Four.
The ghoul kept crawling. Kept moaning that same low, steady note.
Three meters. Two.
Clark raised the pipe.
Then it lunged.
Not crawled.
Lunged- arms slamming into the asphalt and launching its upper body forward with a speed that had absolutely no right to exist in something with no legs, and the sound that tore out of its throat was nothing like the low moan from before. It was sharp. Hungry.
Clark stumbled back half a step, his heart rocketing straight into his throat- 'what the-'
But his arms were already moving. Adrenaline shot up.
The pipe came down hard. The sharpened edge caught the top of the ghoul's skull with a crack that he felt all the way up to his shoulder, and the head-
Split.
It didn't cave in, get dented, or smashed. It split in two. Just like an axe coming down on a piece of wood. The ghoul's momentum carried it enough that it fell right on his feet, but Clark backed off it fast.
Clark stood over it, chest heaving, pipe still raised for round two.
He stayed like that for a second. Two.
"...Okay." He said, to no one.
He lowered the pipe slowly, taking another step back from the body and scanning the street out of reflex- no movement, no answering moans, nothing drawn by the noise. Good. Fine. Great even.
His hands weren't trembling this time, which he decided to count as personal growth.
[Bronze Ticket Acquired.]
|First Walker Kill — Milestone Reward|
Clark stared at the mental text for a good moment before a deep frown marred his face. "First what?"
First of all, the name Walker for ghouls was fucking stupid. Clark wasn't about to change how he called them. Second of all, first?!
Whatever this ticket-giving system in his head was, it was wrong, because he had killed an uncountable number of GHOULS, not walkers.
As if reading his thoughts- which, frankly, Clark wouldn't put past it at this point- the system responded.
[Synchronizing…]
Clark stopped walking.
[Synchronizing with host's history since Event Zero.]
[Please stand by.]
He stood by. Mostly because his legs stopped working out of sheer bewilderment.
[Synchronizing Complete.]
And then they came. All at once, stacked on top of each other like a pile of mail that had been building up for weeks.
[Gold Ticket Acquired.]
|Survived the Fall — You were present at the end of the world and kept breathing. Most didn't.|
[Bronze Ticket Acquired.]
|First Blood — You have killed a human being.|
[Bronze Ticket Acquired.]
|Kinslayer — The first human you killed was someone you loved.|
[Silver Ticket Acquired.]
|Against All Odds — You survived the first weeks of the dead walking.|
[Silver Ticket Acquired.]
|Horde Survivor — You survived your first encounter with a mass convergence of walkers.|
Clark read through all of them.
Then he read through them again.
He stood in the middle of the empty street, a dead ghoul at his feet, a pipe in his hand, and five mental notifications floating in his head like a to-do list. He bristled at the kinslayer comment, but stopped his anger. While true, and it hurt being reminded of that, emotions took energy to display and show.
Energy that he was running out of very slowly.
He didn't know how to feel about any of it.
The gold one was almost funny. Survived the Fall. As if it were an achievement. As if most of the planet hadn't simply failed to do the same thing. As if surviving the end of the world was something that deserved a ribbon and a pat on the back rather than just being the bare minimum of existing.
Or maybe it was. But Clark didn't think so. If he wasn't living for his parents' sake, Clark would have jumped into a horde to kill as many as possible until he himself turned.
Surviving… Surviving was hard. He was thirsty and hungry and exhausted and sleepy and so much more. His whole body ached, and he was performing at best 40%.
The bronze ones were less funny.
He didn't read those again.
He looked down at the ghoul split open at his feet instead, then up at the empty street ahead, then at nothing in particular.
His jaw tightened, and he started walking again, because standing still wasn't going to get him anywhere, and he had decided a long time ago that forward was the only direction worth moving in. Processing things was a luxury, and luxuries had a very short shelf life these days.
He noticed, vaguely, that the system had called them walkers again. Twice now.
He glanced at the body one more time over his shoulder.
Was it the official name of the ghouls from some sort of shadow government? Cause the government didn't call them walkers.
Still a stupid name though.
Ghouls had more dignity to it. More accuracy, honestly.
He filed the observation away under things that don't matter right now and kept moving. He had a long walk to Macon.
To keep himself company, he decided to use the tickets, from lowest rank to highest.
[Speckled Stoneplate Ring]
|Rare Item|
Stoneplates, the symbol of a true knight, grant the strength to face various hardships. The precious, rare speckled stoneplate grants a small boost to defense against all elemental effects.
Another appeared in his void before he willed it to his other thumb immediately after reading the description. Again, the story of the Stoneplate ring merged with his Steel Protection ring. And now, Clark had history jammed in his head that his family line came from a long-lost line of nobility and even kings.
And thankfully for the Stoneplate ring, he could feel his determination harden and spirit lift a lot more. If before, he was dragging his legs towards his goal, to reach Macon and get to his father's sibling, now he was marching.
Another one-
[Ancient Fruit Wine]
|Common Item|
A bottle of the finest Iridium Quality Wine made from a very rare Ancient fruit with excellent taste, personally handcrafted and aged by a farmer with too much time, skill, and money. Although it does not have any supernatural effects, its refined and refreshing taste is superb and has incredible artisan value. Restock Timer: 12 Hours
Well, this fucking sucked. Sure, it might be useful in a party or something, but if he drank it right now, he'd be drunk enough to fuck or get fucked by a ghoul. Clark kept it in his inventory and decided to forget about it.
His second ring sure was helping him not get depressed about getting that. But it was good news. It meant that whatever his lottery power was, it could give him food and water as well. He could practically see the display of his power.
He willed for it to change from random to items only, but it wouldn't budge. The other options were Ability, Traits, and Skills. He focused on the next column, seeing the ranks, from bronze to all day to Diamond rank.
Huh… If surviving a horde and the fall was only worth gold, what was worth a Diamond or even a Platinum rank ticket?
Exploring his abilities later, right now, he had his hope up that he might get water or food from his power, so he willed to use another bronze ticket-
[Animal Lover]
|Common Trait|
All animals like you.
For a moment, Clark stopped and then resumed walking. He didn't say anything but let out a sad smile at the result. The ticket that he had received for killing his parents…
Clark might be drawing a link where there wasn't one, but he still wiped the tears from his eyes, muttering a thank you.
Without further ado, he moved on to the two silvers-
[Scrap Iron Candy]
|Common Item|
"Tastes like its name." When consumed, it bolsters the user's defence for 30 minutes. Restock Timer: 8 Hours
Another protection item, and Clark didn't complain, since it was actually edible. It might not drive away his hunger, but it was something. So, he pulled it out of his inventory and into his hand. No wrapper or anything.
'Hmm… taste like shit,' Clark scowled, but kept it in his mouth- 'nope' he swallowed it, making a face of disgust.
Hopefully, other edible things aren't as shitty as that candy was.
[Half Light]
|Uncommon Trait|
You are unnaturally attuned to your baser instincts, fight, flight, and fuck to the point where you can almost hear your instincts speaking to your ear. Honing this sense can help you in combat, gauge the strength of others, know when to run, etc., but on the other side, if you cannot learn to control this side of yourself, you can just as easily become a paranoid savage.
He could feel the change in him happen, becoming more self-aware.
It was like static clearing. Not loud, not violent, just suddenly, quietly there- a low hum beneath his thoughts, like a second heartbeat that had always existed but never had a name. His senses, already tuned sharp by weeks of survival, sharpened further, and his body felt present in a way it hadn't before. More honest. More animal.
For a half second, the paranoid savage the description warned about clawed at the edges, every shadow in his peripheral vision became a threat, every distant sound a countdown, and Clark felt the urge to move, to run, to hide, to react to things that weren't happening yet.
Then the rings pulled it under.
They reminded him that he was from a family of knights and kings. The strength that the Stoneplate Ring spoke of beat his instinct into submission.
Another sigh, another step- Oh, look, two running GHOULS. His instinct, his rings, and his sharpened weapon worked together, decapitating one and then kicking the body into the other. It was enough to make it stop and stumble, which Clark used to split its head in two, then pierced the head that was rolling on the street.
That leaves only the gold ticket-
"Please be food, please be food-" he shook his head, "Please be water- please be water-"
[Astral Injection]
|Rare Item|
An injection made from the essence of the starborn astral blight MASSIVELY increases energy regeneration for 10 minutes, but while the effect is active, your insides will start tearing up and rotting from the influx of astral energy. Restock time: 120 hours
"Fuck. You." He hatefully muttered after getting the description.
Another item that he couldn't use because it would lead to his death. He didn't know what the energy it talked about was, but Clark didn't care, because he would never use this. Not even if he gets a regeneration ring or item or perk or ability.
Because everything important that you need to be alive is inside your body. Heart, lungs, intestines, liver- ALL of it is needed, especially in this current situation. Basically, this injection was nothing but a dead sentence.
Inhaling deeply, he let it out, mapping his way to Macon. A two-hour drive is usually at least two days of walking. And in this GHOUL-infested world, where he could only walk at most up to three hours before finding a spot to catch some Zs on top of looting houses and dodging hordes, that two-day walk could turn to a week easily.
He's already on day three, leaving behind the dead sentence that was Atlanta behind, though he was still on the edges of the huge city. Spotting an abandoned semi-truck on the main street, he slowly inspected the inside of it and around it.
Clean and safe. The door to the driver's seat was left open, which Clark immediately shut and wrapped the belt around the door handles.
One of the windows was half open, thankfully. He finally had a safe sleeping place from the GHOULS. Hopefully, screaming GHOULS in his mind will correct his system/lottery power naming sense.
Back on topic, he checked the small fridge of the semi, and thankfully, there were three bottles of water, one half drunk. They were extremely warm due to being inside a car, but Clark wouldn't complain. He put the two unopened ones in his hiking backpack and slowly sipped the half-empty- no, half-filled bottle, enjoying every single sip. Which also helped with clearing his mouth from the awful scrap iron-tasting candy.
He also took out another bar and took one bite before putting it back. Slowly washing it down with sips of water.
After making himself comfortable in the bed, he let out a sigh and prepared himself to sleep till evening. And if nothing disturbed him, maybe even through the night.
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AN: Hello hello.
Hope everyone has a good time.
Regarding the story, I think I established Clark's daily routine enough. He's like that one dude from the show who was alone and depressed and the meme of "how an average guy would survive TWD." Don't know his name, didn't get past TWD after season 2.
But yeah, he's like him right now. Chapter 4 should be a timeskip, maybe reaching Macon or something? We'll see.
For now, I'll just post Clark's rolls in the Author Note from now on. So, you guys can keep track of it with me:
Name: Clark Rogers
Abilities: Sharpen, View Earth
Traits: Animal Lover, Half Light
Items: Ring of Steel Protection, Speckled Stoneplate Ring, Ancient Fruit Wine, Scrap Iron Candy, Astral Injection
Let me know your thoughts on this rework version.