After several moments of soft sobbing, with nothing but a pile of ash as company, I started to gather my wits back from the mild panic attack I was currently suffering. I would like to say it was due to my strong mental fortitude, but that would be a lie. What tore my attention from my current drowning was the constant throbbing in my forearm was giving me. It made it hard to focus on much else, especially considering I could still feel a steady stream of blood running through my right hand that was over the wound.
Gazing down at my arm, I couldn't help but curse, "Shit on me. I hope these zombies don't follow general horror movie logic. Because if they can turn people with just a bite, then I'm seriously knackered." Thinking of this, I suddenly remembered the weird game rules this world apparently ran on and thought I might be able to actually find an answer, instead of having to wait in fear of turning into a bloodthirsty beast. Even though it wasn't actually causing a distraction to me, I somehow knew that there were several system notifications waiting for me in my mind. It was as if there was a scratch that I needed to itch. A notification itch. With a mental command, a set of notifications rang through my head.
[You have suffered a Physical attack from a Level 2 Human Zombie – Damage –15]
[You have suffered a Physical attack from a Level 2 Human Zombie – Damage –15]
[You have suffered a Physical attack from a Level 2 Human Zombie – Damage –15]
[You have been afflicted with the debuff – Bleeding (Left Forearm) – Loss of 2 Health Points every second]
[Warning! You have been afflicted with Zombie Poison – Your Constitution has successfully resisted the poison.]
[You have inflicted 20+ Damage to Level 2 Human Zombie – Critical Hit success +200 Damage]
[Defeated – 1x Level 2 – Human Zombie – 20 Experience gained]
A set of notifications describing my short but intense battle with the zombie rang out. My heart tightened when I saw the damage the little prick of a zombie had inflicted on me, especially when I saw the bleeding debuff. However, I heaved a large sigh of relief when I saw that I had somehow fended off the Zombie poison. "Thank the heavens. No eating raw flesh for me, for the time being, at least. I'll keep my steaks well down, thank you." I muttered. Knowing I wasn't poisoned but losing Health Points from the large holes in my forearm, I checked my Health Points, shaking off the slight dizziness.
[Health Points: 33/110]
Even while I was looking over my utterly horrifying Health Points, I saw it go down by two points, then up by one. Which confused me for a moment until I remembered my Epic Talent, and after doing the very easy maths. I realized that my current natural regeneration was +1.1 every second. It was safe to say that the talent was already showing its worth. Deciding not to waste any more time, I looked over the room for anything I could possibly use as a bandage. Any scrap of cloth I touched tore into pieces under the lightest of tension, not including they were so full of dirt, deca,y and dust. Wrapping them around an open wound would most likely lead to an infection just as deadly to me at that time as zombie poison would of. Seeing nothing good and remembering that there appeared to be nothing else in any of the other rooms that I could possibly use. I looked over the loot that had dropped from the Level 2 Zombie but came up short. Merely getting another packet of crackers and an empty metal canteen.
"Shit. Is this my end? To just slowly bleed out. Can I get any more pathetic? Come on!" Clenching my teeth, I beat my chest, as the feeling of pitiable rage felt like it was stuck in my chest. "What about mum and the kids? What will they do without me? Are you just going to give up, Grubbs? Is that who I am now?" Kneeling next to the pile of ash, a feeling of weakness came over me, as the soft taps of my blood hitting the dirty floorboards rang out. Just as I was contemplating curling up in a ball right there, the sight of the useless loot in front of me made me think of a piece of loot that I had kicked across the floor in the living room. "AH, goddamn it." Getting to my feet with a grunt of pain, I half stumbled, walked out of the bedroom, and back into the living room. Looking around, I soon found my target. A rolled-up piece of cloth tied with a string, just the sight of it made my skin crawl.
"Come on Grubbs, man the hell up." With a shake and pep talk to myself, I made my way over to the rolled-up cloth that was actually zombie skin. When I leant over to pick it up, though, I had to brace myself on the floor, so I didn't pitch over as a wave of vertigo crashed down on me, almost making me vomit. Getting down on my knees, I took a couple of calming breaths and then picked up the rolled-up skin, untying the string with my teeth. The zombie material rolled out like a rolled carpet. It was just under three feet in length and about a foot wide. It didn't particularly look like zombie skin, meaning it wasn't a roll of rotting flesh. Instead, it was grey in colour and actually quite smooth to the touch; its texture was much like normal leather, just a little on the thinner side.
Taking a couple of deep breaths to psyche myself up and gritting my teeth so hard, I thought I heard a couple creak under the pressure. I lifted my left forearm away from my stomach, and with the other hand, I wrapped the zombie skin around once, bracing it against my stomach again after each rotation to keep the pressure until it was tight enough that it made tears leak down my face and my gums to start bleeding. Realizing that I couldn't effectively tie the zombie skin so as to keep the same tightness when I moved it around, I looked around the living room for a possible solution. Seeing nothing, I thought of a couple of things that I saw in the kitchen that might help and got up on unsteady feet to head there. Once in the kitchen, I opened several busted up drawers until I found one filled with rusted pieces of metal, most likely old utensils or cutlery.
Looking through the pile, I picked a couple of the thinner ones that weren't too long. With my right hand, I awkwardly bent one into a curve, which made it resemble a rusty hook. Then, with the steady hands and blinking the sweat from my eyes, I pierced the end of the Zombie skin with the hook and then pierced it through the other end of the skin, before bending the metal and squishing it down so it now resembled a sort of staple. I redid this several times and in the process, I managed to cut my fingers more than once on the rusty metal; however, it didn't appear to be a problem, as within seconds the small cuts healed over and disappeared.
After I put the last makeshift staple on and slowly released my left arm that I was firmly pushing against my stomach, I saw that the tightness hadn't slackened, and the metal bindings were currently holding form. Almost immediately, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, with even the pain in my arm slowly lessening. I then received that itchy system notification feeling again and with some hope now running through my veins, I quickly commanded it to show me the notification.
[Attention! Status Debuff – Bleeding - has been removed]
"Yes! Thank God above. I feel like the last fifteen minutes have aged me fifteen years." I said in a tension relieving breath and then with a furrowed brow I realized I still had the notification itch, telling me there were more notifications to read.
[Congratulations! You have successfully crafted (Zombified Vambrace) - System Note: Self-made crafting recipes will be stored in your Crafting Profile.]
[Congratulations! You have unlocked your first profession – Leatherworker – would you like to accept the Leatherworker profession? Yes or No? - System Note: You may only have three active professions – choose wisely]
"Da hell?" I held up the shitty looking bandage upon my arm and couldn't help but question the system's intellectual capacity. "How in either world is this a god damn vambrace?" Focusing on the Zombie skin bandage, a floating text appeared above my arm showing me the so-called vambrace's stats.
[Zombified Vambrace (Left Forearm) – Common – No Requirements]
Durability 20/20
Armour Value +10
"Well, shit on me. Would you look at that?" I nodded at the description with a small, self-satisfied grin tugging at my lips. I couldn't help but mutter to myself, "Am I a Leatherworker prodigy?" With a laugh, I thought about the profession and went over the pros and cons. I didn't think long, however, considering that there was a very great chance that the rest of the apartment building I had found myself in was filled with the undead, I imagined that there were a lot of chances to get more zombie skin and most likely very soon. Just as I was thinking over saying yes to the profession, I heard several loud crashes against the front door of the apartment. Making the door rattle and the lock creak dangerously. "Oh, come on, give me a break, would you."