《Gnawing Hunger》 Ch 1 Dead and So Not Loving It
You have received a fatal amount of damage. Congratulations! You''ve died!
... ... ... "WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DIED?! THAT''S...that''s not...*sniff* not fair!" Mortimer tried looking around, as the world seemed to fade to deeper and deeper darkness. He was more than a little confused, but mostly, he was upset. "I barely got to have an adventure. It''s my first dungeon, and I died. Stupid monsters!" Mortimer muttered to himself, wracking his brain trying to figure out what went wrong. Or what killed him? Wait, he knew that a moment ago. And why was he still hanging around? "Hmm, I wonder...Status!"
You do not have a status. You are dead.
Help?
There is no helping you. You are dead.
"WHAT THE FUCKIS GOING ON?!?!"
I don''t really know what you''re expecting from me. You''re in permanent naptime, you''re pushing up daisies, you''re fertilizer, the spark of yourlife is smothered in shite. Getting the picture genius?
"The snark is a bit much. But if I''m dead, what is all this then?" Mortimer waived his arms around in the inky void that surrounded him. "I know I was never much of one for all the religiosity. Never could stand those uppity Clerics. But not one of them every mentioned, or cursed me with, or damned me to an black...whatever this is."
Loading... Loading... Loading...
Congratulations, you are SO pathetic, you are getting a second chance!
"Rude..."
Intelligence (INT) dropping to minimum. (1)
Wisdom (WIS) dropping to minimum. (1)
Charisma (CHA) dropping to minimum. (1)This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Dexterity (DEX) dropping to minimum. (1)
Subtype changed (Undead)
"No pithy response? No comments about how my intelligence didn''t have far to go?"
Congratulations! You can now count yourself among the ranks of the brainless undead! And sincemost Zombies are considered mindless undead, your ranks currently include just you. Idiot
The zombie''s eyes opened. Well one of them did. The other was laying on the ground next to the strange creature that attacked him. The zombie felt like it should have a name. It was covered in something. It looked soft. Fluffy even. "Fluuuuuuuuffffffffyyyyyyyy..." The zombiegroaned out, drool already dripping from the corner of his mouth. That creature jumped back with a snarl, unsurprisingly startled by his meal suddenly getting back up. The creature growled and snapped at this thing in front it.Theflesh slipped off skeletal frame, rapidly turning from pink to a sickening gray, as this thing seemed to rot away before its very eyes. The creature slashed at this horror, the powerful claws rending what littletorso remained.
You dealt a deadly blow! Monster is immune to death.
The zombieslowly looked down as what was left of his torso was slashed away by the fluffy. He decided he did not like that. He needed that torso to eat. He was starving! Fluffy looked more and more like lunch. Slowly, and with almost more effort thanhethought it was worth,the zombiepulled himself off the ground. What was left of his entrails dragged behind him as he begin to slowly trudge forward. He was so hungry! The fluffy backed away asthe zombiestepped forward. The fluffy snarled, and another slash tore away at more flesh, this time from his leg. The zombie pitched forward, suddenly missing about half the leg he was standing on. But once more, fortune smiled on him, as in pitching forward, he managed to get close enough to put his hands on the fluffy. The fluffy struggled, pulling away from the zombie as hard as it could, to no avail. The zombies hands tightened, and pulled the fluffy closer to his mouth. He was so hungry! Just a quick bite wouldn''t hurt anything. Right?
You stuck a critical spot. You deal heavy damage.
Something filled the zombie''s vision and would not go away. But there was no way for him to eat it, so he kept what was already in his hands.
You dealt fatal damage. Your target is dead.
You gained a level! You are now a level 2 Zombie! Strength Up (STR+) Strength Up(STR+) Strength Up(STR+)
The thing in front of the zombie''s eyes changed, but he did not care. He got through the fluffy part, and the hard crunchy bit. Now he could get to the warm squishy bit inside.
You feasted on afresh corpse. Undead regeneration activated.
Finally the zombie''s vision cleared. He kept snacking on the squishy bits, savoring each morsel with louds smacking noises. The zombie didn''t even notice as his intestines were slowly pulled back towards his torso, and his leg reformed from the shredded ribbins the fluffy turned it into. He did notice when he suddenly could see how of his left side, and saw the rest of the delightful squishy to eat. Oh what a happy day this was for him! Ch 2 Dead and Still Not Terribly Thrilled About It The zombie slowly pulled himself upright as the last of his organs pulled themselves back inside his torso. Well except for that bit hanging out the side. His legs moved sluggishly as the muscles knit themselves back together into something that looked vaguely humanoid.
Undead regeneration subsiding. You are as healthy as can be. Except for the whole being dead thing.
The annoying blue thing was back, and now that his hands were free, the zombie tried to get rid of it. First he swiped at it. His hand just passed right through. So he tried again. And again. And one more time. It was around this time he reached the end of the room he was in, but he was busy trying to make the blue thing go away he did not notice until...
Your attack was repelled. You received serious damage.
With a sickening crunch, his arm stuck the wall and bounced away, the bones shattering and leaving the arm dangling uselessly at the zombie''s side. He tried to swipe again, but the arm just flung about before pointing to the ground, swaying. "Paaaaaaaaaaainnnnn" the zombie groaned out, not terribly fond of this new sensation. So much for his happy day. He shuffled away from the arm-breaker. "Where is all that noise coming from?" An unknown voice carried by the echos of the dungeon made its way to the zombie. Cautious, but not terribly quiet footsteps made their way towards him. The zombie turned in the direction of the sound, when the smell reached his mostly rotted nose. The zombie left it fill what was left of his mind and he knew. More squishy! He was so hungry!
Racial Ability Unlocked. Undead Perception activated. You can sense living creatures around you. When searching for a living being you are immune to the effects of hiding, darkness, and invisibility. This effect does not work against non-living objects, plants, and other undead. Ability uses Focus Points (FP)
The zombie''s eyes focused, for just a split second. In that moment, he was able to find the person coming into the room. Even before the person walked through the doorway, the zombie was moving towards them. The person, another young adventurer, walks through, sword drawn, glancing around fearfully, uncertain about what may be in the darkened room. The zombie groaned with effort trying to reach his next meal, which got the young adventure''s immediate attention. It was difficult for the human to see, but he could swear that zombie looked familiar. "Oh my gods, Mortimer what happ...what are you doing? No! Noooo!" The adventurer panicked as the zombie moved closer, swinging his sword at his undead former ally. The weapon bit into the zombie''s side where that last bit of entrails was still sticking out.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
You were hit by an adventure''s sword. You have taken serious damage.
The sword dug deep into the zombie''s body, and stuck fast. With a disgusting slurping, sucking noise, the adventurer pulled back on the weapon hard enough to pull it free, but too hard to keep his balance. With a thud of metal on stone, the adventurer fell onto his backside hard enough that his ill-fitting helment slid off his head, and the buckles on his breastplate tore open some. No longer as protected from a zombies'' powerful tearing fingers or crushing jaw, he tried to crawl away backwards. He scrambled as quickly as he could, but a armored adventurer crawling on the ground still isn''t faster than a very hungry zombie. The zombie swiped with his good arm, getting a hand on the adventure''s chest plate. It felt like the crunchy bit from before, but harder and colder. He pulled hard and with a series of snaps, tore the front off the adventure. The zombie took the armor and bit down as hard as it could.
I cannot believe I have to tell you this. YOU CANNOT EAT ARMOR! You''ve taken minor damage. It should be a lot worse but I did make you ridiculously stupid, so I figured I would give you a pass this time.
The zombie did not get the satisfaction from eating this like he did the fluffy. Mmmmm. That fluffy was good. He should find another later. He dropped the armor to his side as he reached for the adventurer. Or he would have but the adventurer at disappeared. The zombie groaned again, louder, in hunger and frustration. For a moment, his eyes focused again, and he could see that the adventurer had managed to hide itself behind a crate in the hallway. The zombies eyes glazed over again as he shuffled down the hall closer to the hiding place. The adventurer was breathing heavily, trying to remember how to take on zombies from his training, but no amount of training can prepare you when the zombie is wearing the rotting face of someone you''ve known your whole life. The adventurer''s panicked breathing covered the zombie''s shuffling noises until it was too late. Another loud groan, followed by a much louder scream echoed through the hallways of the dungeon as the zombie bent over and bit down into the skull of the adventurer.
You crunched through the skull of the adventurer. You dealt fatal damage. The adventurer is dead.
The zombie was bummed about the lack of fluffy with this meal. But it was a lot easier to get through the crunchy bit this time. He loved this squishyness inside it. It was like munching on heaven.
You feasted on a fresh corpse. Undead Regeneration activated. Special Action taken. By eating an intelligent creature, your Undead Regeneration has restored more of your brain. INT+
The zombie, Mortimer, dropped his friends head to the ground as some of his memories started flowing back to him. "FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKK!" Mortimer''s healing jaw groaned out. Ch 3 Dead and Maybe a Little Smarter For It The first sparks of intelligence flared to life in Mortimer¡¯s head. Well, flared may be a bit of a strong word. Mortimer¡¯s head felt like it was in a in a fog. In a dark cave. In space. His memories were dulled, faded, and held together by the barest of consciousness. But he remembered his name. He remembered having been alive at some point. And he remembered that he knew the guy he was chewing on. Wait, chewing on? Mortimer realized, in his moment of epiphany, he picked up his friend¡¯s head and was chewing on the soft squishy inside. Mortimer knew that wasn¡¯t the right word, but it was so tasty, he did not care. What he did care about was his Undead Regeneration snapping his arm back into place, restoring it to mostly working condition. His bones still felt like gravel and made an unnerving grinding noise as he waved his arm. An iota of focus stayed with his eyes as he let his Undead Perception released, and Mortimer¡¯s thoughts dimmed further. No other living around him for now. His gnawing hunger returned as the regeneration slowed, his body still filled with large gashes from the sword. Mortimer grabbed the corpse by the arm and pulled, dragging it behind him. He was by no means fast, but he walked with a little more purpose and direction than before. At least until he caught his dragging steps on his previous leg, still lying where it fell from the fluffy¡¯s attack on him. Landing in a heap, his left arm now tearing a hole through the flesh of his rotting shoulder, and the adventure¡¯s corpse and the fluffy¡¯s corpse wrapped around each other. With a low groan and a sickening snapping noise, Mortimer pulled hard and ripped the arm off the adventurer. Eating on it like a drumstick, Mortimer felt the regeneration kick back in, his shoulder sliding back into place, and the gaping wounds in his side stitching themselves back together.
Undead Regeneration has restored you to Maximum Health. Warning, repeated use of Undead Regeneration will be able to restore less as your body breaks down. Additional sources of healing may be required.
Mortimer could not understand what the box was saying, but a memory crawled out of the void in his thoughts and he remembered how to make the blue box disappear. With a flick of his wrist, and the gods-awful grinding noise of his bones, he cleared the warning from his vision. He felt so clever. In a moment of celebration, he raised his arms into the air likea praying mantis and did a thrilling dance number across his little dark room.
Lords, how I wish I could unsee that. But since that technically counts as a dexterous action¡­ DEX+
Mortimer still did not have the foggiest notion what that blue box was saying, but a nagging feeling in the back of his barely function brain told him that he did not like that stupid box. On the plus side though, he watched as some of his damaged and rotting limbs suddenly knitted themselves back together, healing a little better and allowing him a little bit easier of a time moving around. He felt more in control of his limbs. He walked a little more easily around his room, his steps upgrading from a slow shuffle, to a graceless, ungainly step. With a small gem of happiness in his rancid chest, he strolled back into the hallway. Moving around feels so much better now! He felt like he was practically flying down the straights and veering around even the tightest corners. The real truth, however, was he could be outpaced by a moderately motivated tortoise. No one accused zombies of being particularly fast. Their real secret is their endless stamina, which Mortimer thoroughly enjoyed as he walked for hours through corridor after corridor. With no real purpose, objective, or even a sense of direction to speak of, Mortimer became completely and utterly lost. Eventually, the corridors opened into a room. This was much larger than any room Mortimer¡¯s broken brain could ever remember being in. Much brighter too. Too bright in fact. Mortimer shielded his eyes as they were slow to adjust to the higher light levels in the room. It was while his face was covered that they started. The screams, the terrible screams.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
They were only supposed to be down here for a day or two. By Janette¡¯s count, that was a week ago. But still, the rumors that this dungeon had a secret area, one filled with monsters and treasure far beyond what this beginner level should be able to manage drove them deeper into its maze-like halls. They were by no means great and powerful adventurers, being only a couple levels beyond what this dungeon considered normal, but if the rumors were true, they would find a trove of treasure and experience many levels beyond what they would normally be able to gain. Janette looked around at her sleeping party. Why the caster had to take a turn at watch was beyond her. Didn¡¯t they know she needed at least 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep to restore herself. She picked up her pocket mirror and looked at her increasingly haggard reflection. ¡°Not to mention the other 2 hours or so I need to keep up my appearance,¡± she mumbled aloud. She pulled at the bags under her eyes, thinking about how many days at the spa in Ofcaul she would need to get herself to her best place again. Adventuring barely seemed worth it at times. The treasure was nice, but the long hours, crappy food, and constant chance of getting killed was a bit much at times. Janette sighed heavily, and recast the spells needed to keep the flames going strong, warm and bright. That was the last of her useful spells until she got a long rest. Janette sat back down near the flames and cracked open her spellbook. According to her teachers, the next major step in growth would be to create a new spell. Or least uncover a lost one. She got out her writing supplies and started doodling magical circles in the corner of one of the blank pages. She had no way to really know where to start, so she let her mind wander. That was where the greatest magical inspirations could be found, according to her teachers. Janette suppressed a chuckle at the memories of her teachers with their ridiculous beards and insistence on conical hats. She closed her book and checked the hourglasses. Another hour to go before she could wake up her comrade. She looked around the room as the flames cast dancing shadows along the walls. That¡¯s when she saw it. The walking corpse of a humanoid walking into the room, its rotting flesh hanging loosely in places, blood caked around its mouth where it feasted on the living, and a half- eaten arm being dragged behind them. An arm wrapped in a very familiar sleeve. No one had seen Luxe in days. This thing must have eaten him. A wave of dread and panic filled her up from the depths of her soul and poured out of her lungs and mouth as she screamed.
Mortimer¡¯s eyes focused, sensing the four living beings in the room. The noisy one was by herself, but the other three were quickly getting up. The echoing screams filling the room with a dozen voices all annoyingly loud and shrill. Mortimer didn¡¯t like all this noise. He missed the quiet of his dark room. And he was hungry. The arm lost its taste hours ago, but he forgot to drop it. He looked down at the arm, and at the noisy one, and the ones getting up. Then he threw it. But do you know what happens when someone with no intelligence to speak up tries to aim, and someone with no dexterity tries to throw? Jack shit is what happens. The arm sailed through the air, caught on a decorative boar¡¯s head mounted on the wall and knocked it down. That¡¯s when the miracle happened, because that is the only thing that can describe the deus ex machina level of bullshit. The head came loose from the wall and fell, plunging its tusks into the fighter¡¯s back and all but killing him, leaving him pinned to the floor. The blood splatter from the fighter¡¯s brand new piercings splashed on the cleric¡¯s face in the middle of his holy chant, causing him to gag and the spelt to backfire and blast the rogue as he pulled out his weapons, knocking him out cold.
There is no way that should be possible. I¡¯d call haxx but you¡¯re too stupid for anything like that. Oh shit, I forgot to adjust your luck. I can¡¯t do anything about it now though. Congrats on the freebie. I guess it¡¯s true that it is better to be lucky than smart. Special Action-Killed two enemies with a lucky shot. Bonus xp awarded. Luck stat unlocked. You gained a level. You are now a level 3 Zombie. STR+ CON+ STR+ You have gained the option to choose what kind of Zombie you are. Warning, you are no longer considered beginner level. System protection against death rescinded. Zombie immunities to starvation and fatigue active.
Ch 4 Dead and Fighting It Mortimer was so thankful he knew how to get rid of the boxes now. This new one took up so much of his vision, he momentarily thought the world turned blue. Just before his focus ran out, and his Undead Perception turned off, he watched as two of the living died and faded from view, normal site snapping into place and watch their corpses bleed out onto the floor. But that still left the noisy one, and Bloodface. Bloodface was still sputtering and wiping his mouth, and the noisy one had stopped screaming for a moment. At least, they had until the wall monster fell on the big one. Then the noisy one got noisier. He really did NOT like them. And he was really hungry. But she was so far away, it would take forever to get over there and eat that stupid face.
Level 3 Racial Ability unlocked. Enraged Sprint-When bloodlust rises, you can sacrifice your body to make a savage sprint at incredible speeds. Each step of the sprint causes increasing damage to you, and could potentially cause your limbs to fail.
What starts as his usual low groan suddenly increases in tempo to a savage snarl. Mortimer hunches low and launches forward, going from his normal slower-than-the-tortoise pace to a ferocious dash that covers the dozens of feet between them in the blink of an eye.
You have suffered ability backlash. You have taken major damage.
Tendons rip and tear all over Mortimer¡¯s legs, causing the end of his dash to be less like a charge and more like a crash as they give out from under him and Mortimer crashes into the noisy one. He grabs her by the throat and with next to no effort crushes it in his grip, silencing the noisy one. The gnawing hunger blooming into a sensation of starvation, he tears into her flesh with his teeth, chewing and slurping as her lifeblood drains away.
Instead of a corpse, you feasted on flesh that was still living. Enhanced Undead Regeneration activated. STR+ CHA+ WIS+The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. INT+
Mortimer had another surge of memories and thoughts as the still living flesh healed his own much more effectively than that of the dead. He felt his bones and muscles that only mostly healed before tear apart and reknit themselves into their proper place. He felt his brain come to life as more memories and intelligence came back. The blue box suddenly started making a little bit of sense. There were a lot he did not recognize, but he started to remember the letters, and the meaning of of the simplest words. His skin tightened to his frame a little more, and some of the rot healed itself, restoring a fraction of his original form. He even became more aware of his surroundings, like the fact that the cleric had resumed his chant. He even seemed like he was almost done. ¡°Et per lucem verum, ad quod sepulcrum! Purge Undeath!¡± With the last words, the clerics voice took on a unnatural quality, as if the world itself wished to reject it, but was coerced into accepting. A blindingly white light enveloped the cleric and flung itself at Mortimer. It hurt Mortimer¡¯s eyes to look at it, but he could not look away.
You have been struck by your bane. Fatal damage taken. Error¡­Presence of WIS stat detected. Reclassifying. You are now considered Intelligent (who would have thought it possible?) Undead. Calculating resistance to Purge Undeath. You have been stuck by your bane. You have resisted. Serious damage taken. ¡­ Lucky bastard¡­
The white light enveloped Mortimer and burned at his flesh. He felt all the healing he had done evaporate in a second. From deep inside himself, he felt his very soul refuse to burn, and as soon as it did, his body cooled, and the light faded. Flesh torn and singed hung from his body. His face, scorched and scarred, eyes burnt black, still managed to send a look at the cleric that screamed murderous intent. Mortimer focused and looked past the blindness, sensing the powerful lifeforce that coursed through the cleric. His Enraged Sprint tore apart his body further, leaving masses of rotting flesh on the ground, portions of his body nothing but bone. The cleric stated back at Mortimer, terror filling his eyes and running down his leg. At first he was silent, than began sobbing as Mortimer¡¯s broken voice reached his ears. ¡°Noooo. That hurrrrt.¡± Mortimer hissed at the cleric. It took a great deal of focus, but whatever change just happen, he felt more in control over his mind and body than his admittedly short memory could recall. He knew he could not keep this up. It was too taxing on his limited mind. And his body was failing. He could still feel that horrible light burning him, trying to incinerate his very soul. He could smell the discarded and destroyed pieces of body burning away behind him. And he was so hungry. So he let mind relax and drop away, the mindless zombie coming back. The zombie knew exactly what it needed to do. And three and a half bodies to do it to. ¡°Hunnnnngggggrrreeeeeyyyyyy. Huuuuunnnnnnnnggggggrrrrryyyyyyy! HUUUNNNNNGGGGGRRRRRYYYY!¡±
Instead of a corpse, you feasted on flesh that was still living. Enhanced Undead Regeneration activated.
Ch 5 Dead and Thinking About It Mortimer didn''t know if it was minutes, hours, or days before his mind came back to the front. But when it did, he did take that long to notice what had happened around him. The shattered, bloody, and broken remains of three corpses littered the floor, and for the first time in awhile, Mortimer didn''t feel hungry anymore. The spark of intelligence glowed a little brighter, and Mortimer looked down at himself. His body was mostly intact again, though still charred in places. The rotted flesh taking on shades of purples and greens as whatever flowed through him tried to repair the damage he took. What was odd was the obscene bulges across his body. With no small amount of confusion, Mortimer pressed as hard as he could against one of them and nearly threw up.
By the gods, you''re dumb. You''re human sized. You can''t fit 3 humans worth of flesh down your damnable gob without some consequences. The good news is your regeneration is burning through all that flesh and magic at warp speed. You might even qualify for half-wit by the time it''s all done.
Mortimer still didn''t understand most of the words the mean box used, but as the remaining brain cells knit themselves together more and more, he felt consciousness returning, understanding growing, and new thoughts. He began to understand that the person who blasted him with that white light was a cleric. They had the power to cleanse undeath, and could reduce a zombie like him to ash. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt the grogginess of mental exertion pound into him like a tidal wave. As the embers of thought dimmed but not quite died, he understood that his mind was fragile and easily exhausted, and promptly forgot both points as he slid back into mindlessness.
The next few days passed in the same way. Brief moments where he could begin to touch the mind he had before death, before the exhaustion set back in and his mind would collapse back into the darkness. His body continued to regenerate, and in his mindlessness, proceeded to polish off the rest of the adventurers'' flesh. After nearly a week, he had already devoured the last of it, and the hunger had begun to truely set in. The changes to Mortimer''s body and mind would have been considered staggering though. Gone was the charred flesh, the greens and purples beginning to fade, and the skin was tightly wrapped around a solid musculature. If not for the staggering walk and zombified groaning, he would have almost passed for a throughly thrashed human. As the structure of his brain restored itself the moments of lucidity and understanding came quicker and lasted longer. Unfortunately, because of the total shutdown of higher thought whenever he pushed to hard, Mortimer hadn''t really moved passed the revelations from a week ago regarding his victims. But now he had a mission again. Seek more flesh. With an understanding that he hadn''t had before, he knew that in order for him to regain what he once was, he was going to have to eat the flesh of the living. It was the most potent healing he could get at the moment, and let him heal beyond the boundries of the undead. In one of his more lucid moments, he did fear if the restoring of his flesh was rotting his soul, but that particular thought knocked his brain out of commission for nearly a day afterwards, and he didn''t feel like dwelling on it for too long. Mortimer finally took the time to look over what eating the adventuring party had given him. A week of near constant regeneration finally gave his mind the ability to comprehend his status again. It also gave him a strength level well over what he had as a living human. Even with the Undead Strength turned down, he could still hit harder than he could before his untimely demise.
Undead Strength: Strike out against your enemies with absolutely zero concern for your physical health or well-being. Your body will naturally use its full available strength for every action in combat, increasing your strength output several times over at the cost of literally ripping your muscles apart.
His Luck was the same as it was a living person, and he vaguely recalled the box getting upset at him over it. Not certain what that was about. His Charisma was just above the lowest possible, which made sense to him as he was literally dead and rotting. The healing of his brain had granted him a meager intelligence and will. The good news was, that because he still had his soul, it buffed his will against effects and abilities that would instantly kill undead. A final once over of his status before he felt his mind flickering was that he was closing in on his next level of Zombie, but more importantly, the restoration of his body and mind placed him at the cusp of being able to reclaim some of what he once was, and take on a class.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. With the last dregs on his mind sinking back down, he also remembered something the box told him. He could pick what kind of zombie he was. Curious about what that meant, he brought up his status again. He saw the notification in his status asking him if he wanted to evolve. Even though he still had rather large holes in his memories, he remembered it was something monsters could do to grow beyond their limits. So he guessed he really wasn''t human anymore. Although the blood and viscera that remained around him hinted at that pretty strongly. So with the last shreds of his humanity sighing in loss, he pressed the notification.
Congratulations. You''ve managed to figure out the simplest of menu functions. I swear to gods, you make goblins look like geniuses. So you get to pick one of them. ONE. Whichever one you hit first. Because I will not be here all day holding your half rotten hand. I''m running out of hand sanitizer.
Stitcher Graft the body parts of your victims on to your own. Immense physical power, with limited mind. Grafted parts will provide bonus appropriate stats and abilities. Grafted parts will rot overtime, diminishing this bonus.
Plague Become infectious. Your entire body carries the ability to turn others undead. Claws, bites, or bodily fluids carry the ability to raise a fallen victim as a mindless Zombie. Further evolutions expand the types of zombies you can create, and even provide a measure of control over them.
Magic Tap into the magical forces that sustain you, and unlock their power. Grants spellcasting abilities and related powers. Dramatically improves mental abilities, at the cost of diminish physicality.
Purified Purifies your flesh, restoring you to an almost human like state. You are still undead, but can pass as human, and are treated as human for most magical effects.
Skeleton Strip your flesh away, relying on magical energy to keep a humanoid form. Immune to most forms of damage, and a limited ability to use magic. Severely limited stat growth.
Ignoring the snarky menu box, Mortimer read over the list of options, only partially understanding the differences, but wanting to make the decision before he went mindless again and chose something truely stupid. Skeleton was interesting for a moment because he didn''t want to die again. Purified would make him almost human again, but as is fading humanity reminded him, he was better off as a monster as he had been as a human. He was stronger, faster (if only temporarily) and already a much better combatant. He had only been a level one Fighter in his past life, never having had any talent for stealth or magic. Which probably contributed to his quick and untimely death. The experience of a being fighter made the Stitcher seem almost ideal, able to take the best of his enemies to make himself stronger. But his mind had come back enough to understand just how much of it was still gone, and hated how empty it made him feel, despite only just beginning to get hungry. As the last sparks dimmed and his mind sank back under, he clicked the button. And then Mortimer screamed as every inch of his body ripped itself apart simultaneously.
There may be hope for you yet...
Ch. 6 A New Lease on Life Mortimer was for once thankful for his ability to turn mindless. It protected it from the worst of the pain as his body reformed itself at the most fundamental levels. He could skip past the moments where his muscles ripped apart and grew back, and his mind stretched, warped, connections were made, broken, reformed, reconnected, and shattered again. It could have been moments, hours, days, who knows how long the evolution would have taken, but Mortimer could be insulated by the mindless state. Finally, it was over, and Mortimer¡¯s mind awoke. There was an immediate difference as Mortimer took control of his body, he felt his mind lock into place in away he forgot was possible. This was his mind truly taking over, and the mindlessness would not be returning anytime soon. With no small amount of stiffness and disconnect, Mortimer picked up his limbs. Immediately he noticed that his body was sleeker, more slender than before. It felt like he lost more than a little muscle mass. His body had been restored to the point he no longer had flesh hanging off him as well. The charred bits had completely vanished, and he looked practically new. Well as new as a dead guy can look. It was at that moment Mortimer realized he had several notifications blinking in the corner of his vision, and with a flick of his wrist, brought them all up at once.
Congratulations! You have a evolved into a Level 1 Magic-Type Zombie. INT++++ WIS++++ CHA++ DEX+ STR- - Undead Regeneration has evolved! It has transformed into Arcane Restoration! Utilize the arcane power in yourself and that you take from others and convert it into healing, growth, and greater arcane might! Enraged Sprint has become locked and is no longer available for use. New Racial Power unlocked! Undead Arcana Undead Arcana-Tap into the very power that sustains your body. The will grant you the ability to use magical spells and abilities. Due to familiarity with death, Advanced Racial Power unlocked! Touch of Death Touch of Death-You hold the power of Death in your hand. By reaching out and grabbing the living, you can strike at their very heart and soul. By touching a living enemy, you instantly deal Cold damage. There is also a chance you will deal necrotic damage and inflict them with Fear. This chance is greater if the target is unaware of your presence.
Reading over the new status effects, one thought immediately came to mind. If Mortimer was using the very arcane power the kept him alive to cast spells, could he accidentally kill himself (unkill?) by casting too much at once? He wished for a moment he could have realized that before making the selection. But Mortimer thought back for a moment, realizing how much of his mind had already come back to him. Though still fragmented, he had most of his memories back, and he was fully in control of himself again. Who knows what could have result from one of the other evolutions? He was happy for what came of this. Here he stood, already more powerful than he had ever been as a human. With that thought filling his heart, he took the lessons he remembered about mana from his days before becoming a fighter. He¡¯d grown up wanting to be a caster but hadn¡¯t the talent for it.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
You having no talent? Color me shocked.
Mortimer ignored the stupid box and focused inwards, feeling the mana flowing through him. He pulled at it, following it to the source. He kept pulling, expecting it to lead down to his stomach, where mages are taught their arcane mana lies. But the flow was different, leading down the very core of everything Mortimer was. Down to his soul, which seemed to constantly leak out a trickle of arcane power. Mortimer had admittedly not been the best student, but he could not remember a single instance where a professor taught that mana that was divine could come from the soul. It brought his worry back up that using it could result in death for him once again. But as he pulled at the mana, he felt it flow down his arm, to the very tips of his fingers. Mortimer opened his eyes, relishing the feeling of arcane power flowing through him and down to his arm, pooling in his fingers. As the mana collected, his hand become to glow with the bluest blue Mortimer had ever set his eyes upon. The glow, no that wasn¡¯t the right word, because it did not give off even the dimmest shred of light, and instead seems to suck all light, life, and color from the world around him. Mortimer knew instinctively this was his Touch. The Touch of Death. In an instant, the color vanished from his hand, and bolt of stabbing pain tore through Mortimer¡¯s insides. It was a feeling he hadn¡¯t felt in quite a while, but he knew it well. That hunger, ceaseless and vast, suddenly reared again. The flesh of the dead adventurers had long since been eaten and absorbed, fueling his healing and his evolution. With the passage of time only just now being recognizable by Mortimer¡¯s brain, he had no clue how long it had been since he¡¯d battled them. He looked around the room they had all shared for however long, and for the first time Mortimer could recognize things about the party. First off, the rogue, his armor charred black by the cleric¡¯s backfire, but overall still intact. Mortimer thought the leather would be easier to move in than the fighter¡¯s heavy gear, or his own former equipment. Gods only knew where that even was. Mortimer walked over to where the fighter laid. He couldn¡¯t believe just a few however long agos he couldn¡¯t recognize the stuffed head of a boar. He picked up the sword. He gave it a few swings, then attempted some of the basic stances. It felt odd, thinking back on learning how to wield one. Disconnected, like it happened to someone else. Most of his memories felt that way. Even killing the people in this room felt like watching someone else do it. Mortimer shuddered at the realization he had, with no thought or care, murdered 5 people and a dungeon beast. Including someone he once knew. In his home town, he would have been considered the most prolific serial killer of a generation. But it still didn¡¯t feel like he was the one who did it. And with that thought, the last dregs on his humanity fell silent, and he realized he truly must be a monster now. He ate the flesh of someone he once considered a dear friend, and it didn¡¯t even phase him. If that didn¡¯t bother him, what else was he now capable of. He was even a wielder of arcane now. Nothing was truly beyond his reach.
If you¡¯re quite finished contemplating your navel, you¡¯re almost out of usable mana, and your flesh is beginning to unravel. I recommended eating something, or more specifically, someone soon. Ideally, someone with two mana to rub together. I really shouldn¡¯t have to be telling you this, you know.
Mortimer doubled over in pain one more, and watched as his flesh darkened from an unholy white, to a sickly grey, and began to hang away from his frame. He could feel his body failing, rotting, wasting into nothing as it sought out the arcane power it needed to survive. Mortimer got up, pushing himself to gather equipment from the fallen adventures. He looked over the spellcaster, hoping something she carried would be helpful. He took the robes off her bones, the flesh long since stripped or rotted away. He hoped it was enchanted to give him some casting ability to work with, but it was just a simple robe. The staff was not much better, acting as a focus. He didn¡¯t even know any spells yet, much less ones that required a focus. As for the cleric, the loadout would have been much better, but even looking at his equipment made Mortimer feel like he was burning from the inside out. He would need to be swift and stealthy. He did not have the resources for a long combat, and without his mindless rage and brutality, did not have the physical ability to end a fight quick enough to rely on it. So he brushed some of the ash from the rogue¡¯s leather armor, strapped himself into it, picked up one of the rogue¡¯s daggers, and dug deep inside himself for just enough mana to spark another Touch. It shone its sucking anti-glow for a moment before flickering out again. He maybe had one more and he was going to have to make it count. As ready as he could be, Mortimer shoved open the door, and returned himself to the dungeon that made him who he was.