1: Somewhere in the calm of not quite dawn, a rotting, foul corpse stumbled ravenously toward its intended prey. Too bad this would be the last day of its unlife. People say that pain eventually goes away, but you see, hunger is a pain that does not subside with time. Unfortunately, a poor choice of sources for sustenance would be this zombie's undoing. In its ignorance, it had chosen Damion Varson as its dinner. Boy oh boy oh boy. I think you can see where this is going.
Damion calmly faced his opponent. His brother, Kenn, had told him that there is only one rule that matters when it comes to dealing with the Revenant: Shoot first, fuck the questions. Well, Damion took that rule to heart except for one minor detail. He didn't have a gun. As you may have guessed, in his case, that wasn't a problem. Damion raised his left arm, pointing at the zombie's mouth. He paused for a second as the zombie raised its arms for a death embrace and contorted what was left of its face into a snarl. Damion wondered why they always do that. I mean, honestly, who mean mugs their dinner?
The zombie got within six feet of Damion's fingertip when all of a sudden, a jet of water gushed forth from said fingertip and entered the zombie's mouth. A split second later, the top of its head exploded in an eruption of blood, brains and water. Damion's entire body liquefied and flowed into the zombie's mouth and out of the top of its head as a torrent of fluid movement.
In midair over the zombie's body, Damion formed up with his feet pointed straight up and his left arm extended down to the zombie's empty head. He leaned back and landed on his feet behind the zombie with his hand still resting on the back of the zombie's head. He casually pushed the motionless zombie forward and it fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Damion brushed off his sleeves then turned his head to survey the area around him in the Arizona desert. All around him, an entire necrambulistic horde was engaged in immortal combat with the new vampire army of the Collective. This was the beginning of the Revenant War.
Damion calmly faced his opponent. His brother, Kenn, had told him that there is only one rule that matters when it comes to dealing with the Revenant: Shoot first, fuck the questions. Well, Damion took that rule to heart except for one minor detail. He didn't have a gun. As you may have guessed, in his case, that wasn't a problem. Damion raised his left arm, pointing at the zombie's mouth. He paused for a second as the zombie raised its arms for a death embrace and contorted what was left of its face into a snarl. Damion wondered why they always do that. I mean, honestly, who mean mugs their dinner?
The zombie got within six feet of Damion's fingertip when all of a sudden, a jet of water gushed forth from said fingertip and entered the zombie's mouth. A split second later, the top of its head exploded in an eruption of blood, brains and water. Damion's entire body liquefied and flowed into the zombie's mouth and out of the top of its head as a torrent of fluid movement.
In midair over the zombie's body, Damion formed up with his feet pointed straight up and his left arm extended down to the zombie's empty head. He leaned back and landed on his feet behind the zombie with his hand still resting on the back of the zombie's head. He casually pushed the motionless zombie forward and it fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Damion brushed off his sleeves then turned his head to survey the area around him in the Arizona desert. All around him, an entire necrambulistic horde was engaged in immortal combat with the new vampire army of the Collective. This was the beginning of the Revenant War.
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