The Mutant King In Apocalypse

Chapter 5

Rufus had his hands clenched tightly.

He stood there facing the mutant and the zombies that filled the hotel room like a hungry crowd waiting for a show to begin. Something strange was happening inside his head, something that made no sense but felt completely real at the same time.

Looking at the mutant and the werewolves, he had a strange connection with them now. It was not just seeing rotting flesh and sharp teeth anymore.

 He could see their body biology, like his eyes had been upgraded to something beyond human vision. He seemed to know how they functioned and how they acted, what made their muscles move and what drove their hunger. His hands were clenched tightly, like he was ready for a fight that his body understood better than his mind did.

The mutant watched him stand up from the floor and let out a dark, grim laughter.

The sound bounced off the broken walls and filled every corner of the destroyed room. It was the kind of laugh that came from something that had seen too much death and enjoyed every second of it.

"Pathetic," the mutant called him, shaking its rotting head slowly. "Do you know how many humans have tried to stand the way you are standing right now? All of them are dead. Every single one of them is rotting in the streets below this building."

The creature stepped closer, its one living eye locked on Rufus like he was the most amusing thing it had seen all day.

"I know exactly what happened to you before we got here," it continued. "You were beaten up by your own kind and left bleeding on this floor like the garbage that you are. You are the worst of your kind, weak and pathetic, and now you think something has changed just because you can stand up again?"

Rufus looked at the creature for a long moment.

"At least I am something," he replied, his voice carrying a calm that surprised even himself. "What exactly are you? You are not a zombie and you are not a human. You are stuck somewhere in between both, belonging to neither. It must be such a sorry life to live."

The mutant's living eye twitched and the laughter stopped completely.

Something dark and violent moved across what was left of its face and the rotting half of its mouth pulled back to show broken, yellowed teeth.

"Since you want a fight," it growled, stepping forward with heavy footsteps that shook the broken glass on the floor, "I will give you one."

Rufus did not raise his fists or take a fighting stance.

"I am not planning to fight you," he replied simply.

The mutant stopped, clearly thrown off by the answer.

"I am going to control the zombies," Rufus continued, saying it the same way someone would say they were going to walk to the store.

The silence that followed was heavy and thick.

Then the mutant threw its head back and laughed even harder than before. The sound was wet and horrible, like something was drowning in its throat while it tried to breathe.

"Control my zombies!" it repeated, like Rufus had just told the funniest joke it had ever heard in its half-life. "That is a god given talent that humans could not replicate no matter how hard they tried, especially for someone as pathetic as you."

The mutant circled him slowly, its dead eye rolling in its socket while the living one stayed focused on his face.

"Do you understand what you are saying? Mind control over the undead is not something you learn from a book or discover overnight. It takes years of mutation and evolution and even then, most creatures do not survive the process. It is reserved for the superior beings like myself."

Though zombies could not speak, they growled at that moment like they understood exactly what their master had said and agreed with every word. 

The sound rumbled through the room like distant thunder, low and hungry and completely focused on him. 

They snarled and snapped their teeth, pressing closer with dead eyes that never blinked, never looked away from the fresh meat standing in front of them.

The mutant looked around at its children with something close to pride.

"I did not initially want a mess in here," it said, 

"This building will serve as a good base for my people and I prefer to keep my territories clean when I first claim them. But since you want to stand there and be so boastful, my minions could use some entertainment."

The mutant raised one decomposing hand and gestured toward Rufus like he was presenting a gift.

"Consider this a reward for their good work today."

That instant, they growled, happy. The sound that came from all of them at once was horrible and eager, like children who had just been told they could have dessert before dinner. The mutants ordered them to attack, and they seemed happy to finally get their chance.

Their bodies tensed, ready to pounce. Their cloudy eyes focused on Rufus like he was the first meal they had seen in weeks. Some of them were already opening their jaws, already reaching forward with rotting fingers.

The mutant smiled, showing all of its broken teeth.

"This should be fun to watch," it said.

Rufus looked at the crowd of zombies preparing to tear him apart.

Then he gave a different command.

"Stand by."

He did not shout it. He did not even raise his voice. The words came from somewhere deep in his chest, from that strange connection he had felt the moment he stood up, from whatever the lady in the white plain had been talking about when she said he had always been different.

The effect was immediate.

Every single zombie stopped moving.

Not slowed down. Not hesitated. Stopped completely, like someone had cut the power to all of them at the exact same moment.

The room went absolutely silent.

The zombies stood frozen where they were, some with their arms still reaching forward, others with their mouths still open mid-snarl. Their dead eyes looked confused, like they were receiving two different signals and could not decide which one to follow.

When they tried to move, nothing did.

Their bodies refused to obey the mutant's command. Their legs would not step forward. Their arms would not grab. Their jaws would not bite.

The zombies are stunned from their eyes and the mutant is shocked too.

Its one living eye went wide, wider than it had probably been in years. The confident smirk disappeared from its face, replaced by something it clearly had not felt in a very long time, fear.

"What did you just do?" it whispered, its voice barely audible above the sudden silence, shaken with the ancient grip of fear.