The corridor of the second floor glowed red like blood.
The tuneless singing still echoed, bouncing from wall to wall as if even the metal itself was resonating with it.
“Smile now… smile now…”
John stubbed out his cigarette and gently pulled Z-69’s arm.
“Don’t move fast. We’re in the resonance zone.”
“Explain,” Z-69 whispered.
“Any sound above twenty decibels will make it react. It doesn’t hear with ears—it hears with its whole body, through neural tissue. Called vibration sensors. Simply put… it hears through its skin.”
Z-69 frowned. “Then how do we escape?”
John shrugged. “We don’t. I want a tissue sample from it.”
“You really are insane.”
“Yep. But I live longer than the sane ones.”
The shadow of U-022 slid out from the end of the corridor, moving without a sound.
Thin tendons stretched from its back, trembling like antennae feeling the air.
The smell of dried blood and ozone filled the corridor.
“Reaction range?” Z-69 whispered.
“About ten meters. Make it hear anything within that range, and it’ll charge like a bullet.”
Z-69 scanned around. The nearest containment cell stood open, filled with rusted equipment and a few dried corpses.
He signaled to John: flank right, create distraction behind.
John nodded, pulling out a small device the size of a lighter and flipping a switch.
A barely audible beep.
Immediately, U-022 snapped its head toward the sound, mouth splitting wide open, crawling that way.
“Run,” Z-69 signaled.
They dashed into the cell and pulled the door shut.
A crash thundered—BANG!—as the wall across from them exploded, concrete flying apart.
John opened his handheld screen, eyes scanning rapidly through data.
“Sound wave intensity… overreacting to high-frequency metal tones. Interesting.”
Z-69 whispered, “Lure it to the pressure chamber.”
“What are you planning?”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“It hears through vibrations. If the environment vibrates harder than it can handle…”
Z-69 gave a faint smirk. “It’ll tear its own auditory nerves apart.”
John raised an eyebrow—half surprised, half delighted.
“Not bad, for a freshly awakened corpse.”
They moved like shadows.
U-022 crept, tilting its head, listening to the breath of the air.
Z-69 picked up a shard of glass and tossed it down the hall.
Clink.
U-022 lunged.
Its body slammed into the steel wall—BANG!—the sound rolling through the corridor.
Z-69 sprinted after it as John activated the remote control panel.
The pressure chamber door slammed shut—CLANG!
U-022 was trapped inside, shrieking.
The sound pierced the steel; both of them could feel their bones trembling.
John plugged a device into the control socket. “Activating high-frequency resonance.”
A sharp, metallic tone filled the air.
The temperature inside rose rapidly, glass vibrating violently.
U-022 screamed, its face ripping apart, the song warping into a howl.
Then—pop!
Its head exploded, bursting like a pressure sphere past its limit.
Silence.
Only the smell of burning and a thin red mist hung in the air.
John exhaled, leaning back against the wall, rasping a grin:
“Now that’s what I call death metal.”
Z-69 kept staring through the glass.
The crystal in his chest was pulsing.
Light flickered from it, synchronized with his heartbeat—like another being awakening inside him.
He stepped into the chamber, walking through the dried blood.
John moved to stop him, but Z-69’s eyes were vacant—instinct had taken control.
He knelt down, plunging his hand into the shattered skull of U-022.
Blood and brain fluid ran down his arm, hot and sticky, but he didn’t stop.
From deep within, he drew out a transparent core—faint violet, throbbing weakly.
John narrowed his eyes, his voice lower than usual:
“That’s an Energy Core. Every anomaly has one—the central node that stores and reuses absorbed external energy. Shape, color, and nature depend on the type and power of the anomaly.”
Z-69 didn’t answer.
He pressed the core against the crystal in his chest.
Purple light flared.
The two structures resonated—hummmm—then melted together like molten metal.
Energy surged through Z-69’s body, veins beneath his skin glowed like lightning trapped in flesh.
John stepped back, murmuring:
“Absorbing external energy… you’re mimicking the evolution mechanism of the anomalies themselves.”
Z-69 clenched his fist.
Power returned—his broken arms fully healed.
The hunger eased.
He raised his head.
his eyes glowed bright green.
“I understand now,” he said, voice cold as steel. “I’ll hunt the anomalies, absorb their Energy Cores… then eat their bodies. That way, I’ll never be hungry again.”
He looked down at the headless corpse of U-022.
“I want to eat it. Do you have a way to take this out with us?”
John gave a rough chuckle, lighting another cigarette.
“Eating anomalies isn’t rare, but this is the first time I’ve seen someone eager to eat one that looks human. Usually people feel disgusted.”
He exhaled smoke, smirking.
“Ah, right… you’re a zombie. You eat humans anyway.”
Z-69 stayed silent.
“Fine,” John continued with that dry smile. “I’ll accept your request. I do need more samples, after all.”
He pulled from his coat a gun that looked like a barcode scanner.
BEEP.
A green beam swept across U-022’s body.
In an instant, the entire corpse disintegrated into countless tiny particles, fading into the air.
Z-69 raised an eyebrow.
“Spatial gun,” John explained while flicking ash. “Transfers objects to my lab storage.”
“And no, it can’t move us. Only dead things can pass through.”
He grinned faintly.
“You could try, if you want to know what it feels like to be shredded into a billion pieces and glued back together by faith.”
Z-69 narrowed his eyes, thoughtful.
“So what’s for dinner tonight? Death metal?”
John arched an eyebrow, then gave a rasping laugh.
“Not bad. Humor—another sign of evolution.”
Cigarette smoke mingled with the crimson haze.
A dry ding echoed—the elevator signaling auxiliary power restored.
They looked at each other, then both laughed—not loud, but low, hoarse, and crooked.
A mad scientist and a super-zombie, walking deeper into hell—
and a little closer to Crimeria.
