But it was do or die. Liam fought through the ringing in his ears. Just as the Ghoul's hand slapped his face, Liam's iron hammer came crashing down.


Liam had already absorbed three units of Ether. He was packing at least an extra hundred pounds of supernatural muscle behind his swing. That, combined with his own adrenaline, made the hit devastating.


CRACK.


The sound of shattering bone echoed through the room. The Mutated Ghoul's face caved in—nose mashed into pulp, teeth flying like confetti, an eyeball popping under the pressure.


The monster toppled backward and hit the floor with a heavy thud.


Liam didn't wait to see if it would get back up. squinting through his tearing, blurry left eye, he scrambled over the fallen body. He raised the hammer again and brought it down on the monster's ruined face.


SPLAT.


Brain matter sprayed across the floor. The Mutated Ghoul's face was completely obliterated. The patch of White Fur on its skin instantly withered, retreating into the body until it vanished.


Liam let out a shaky breath, finally lowering his weapon. He rubbed his left eye with the back of his hand. That slap had done some damage; his face still felt like a block of wood, and his vision was swimming.


Suddenly, a White Essence Orb materialized over the corpse. It zipped through the air and sank right into the center of Liam's forehead.


A warm current flooded his body, but this time, it concentrated around his left cheek. The numbness vanished. The stinging pain in his eye faded away.


Liam realized the Ether was healing him.


The sensation lasted only a few seconds before the warmth dissipated. A system message popped into his mind:


[Ether: 4/5]


"One left," Liam thought, his pulse racing. "If I kill one more monster and grab its Ether, I hit 5/5. What happens then?"


He felt a mix of anticipation and dread. He wanted the power—he needed it to survive—but he was terrified. Would leveling up turn him into one of them? Would he sprout White Fur and lose his mind?


He pushed the thought away. He could feel the strength coursing through him. Since the first kill, he'd absorbed four Ethers. By his own estimate, he was now sporting the strength of two grown men, maybe more.


A draft blew through the room. The balcony window was shattered, leaving the apartment wide open to any Mutated Ghouls climbing the walls. Liam tightened his grip on the hammer and knife, ready for anything.


But the Ghouls weren't the scariest thing out there anymore.


Liam glanced nervously at the water. The Shadowed Leviathan.


He hadn't seen it clearly—it looked like a cross between a giant fish and a python—but the speed was insane. It had snatched the woman and dragged her under before she could even twitch. It was a predator on a whole different level.


"If that thing grabbed me," Liam muttered, shivering, "I'd be dead meat."


He backed away from the balcony, terrified the Leviathan might decide to breach the surface and snatch him next. He retreated to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the pile of wood on the floor.


It was his homemade raft.


His escape plan had been simple: paddle out, find survivors, find an exit. But now? Knowing what was waiting beneath the surface?


Liam looked at the raft and felt a cold knot of despair in his stomach. There was no way he was getting in that water.


Staying put is risky," Liam reasoned. "A Mutated Ghoul could pop up anytime, but at least I can fight on solid ground. If I take the raft and that monster grabs me? I'm dead meat. No respawns in the middle of the water."


Liam scrapped the escape plan. Hunkering down felt safer for now. Besides, the gamer in him had an itch to scratch—he wanted to frag one more Mutated Ghoul. He needed to see what would happen when he absorbed five units of Ether.


He was sure the cryptic HUD message in his brain wasn't just flavor text. It meant something.


Ironically, while he'd been terrified of the Ghouls earlier, he was now secretly hoping one would show up so he could grind for XP. But of course, the universe decided to be boring. The darkness remained quiet, smelling thick with blood, but no new monsters spawned.


Physically, Liam felt weirdly energized thanks to the power boosts he'd been racking up all day. Mentally, though? He was fried. Between the constant disasters, the oppressive darkness, and the creeping isolation, he was running on fumes.


At first, he tried to stay awake, keeping his ears peeled for any scuttling noises. But eventually, his eyelids felt like lead. He couldn't hold out. He dragged the Mutated Ghoul's corpse out of the bedroom (gross, but necessary), then shoved a heavy cabinet against the window. Still paranoid, he flipped the bed frame upright and wedged it against the cabinet.


It wasn't invincible, but if a Ghoul tried to crash through that furniture Tetris, it wouldn't be instant. The noise would definitely wake him up before he got eaten.


Liam dragged his makeshift door-raft and his bags of food inside, locking the bedroom door tight. Since the floor was damp, he laid the raft down as a platform and set up a makeshift bed on top. Finally, gripping a meat cleaver in one hand and a hammer in the other, he collapsed.


He was out like a light the second his head hit the pillow.


Liam wasn't usually a dreamer, but that night, his brain decided to run a marathon of horrors.


He dreamed of an endless ocean, but instead of waves, it was bobbing with infinite corpses. Liam stood alone on his raft, surrounded by the dead. Suddenly, the bodies jerked to life. They opened dead-fish eyes and mouths full of jagged fangs. Their waterlogged faces—bloated, pale, and twisted—were unspeakably hideous. They reached out, swarming toward him like a plague of locusts.


"Ah!" Liam screamed, jerking awake from the nightmare only to plunge straight into another one.


Now he was underwater, thrashing desperately. He was sinking into the abyss, hands and feet bound tight. Below him, a mass of thick, black hair swirled like seaweed. The hair wrapped around his limbs with crushing strength, dragging him down into the dark.


Liam kicked and struggled, trying to swim up. Suddenly, a face parted the curtain of black hair.


It was Lana. His girlfriend.


Liam froze in horror. He tried to shout her name, but Lana's jaw unhinged, her mouth splitting all the way back to her ears. Rows of vampire-like fangs glistened inside, and a forked, blood-red tongue lashed out, snapping at his face.


The carnival of nightmares spun on and on, terrifying and bizarre, until a violent banging on the door jolted him back to reality.