Vampire Overlord's Harem In The Apocalypse

The sounds of gunshots echoed through the air, sharp and jarring, like nails against a chalkboard.

Each bullet came toward Simon with terrifying speed, but he was faster — each one whizzed past him, missing by mere inches before embedding themselves in the shelf behind him.

Simon's crimson eyes drifted toward the shooter, narrowing in on the man, who had a look of pure desperation etched into his face.

"There are zombies around," Simon muttered, his voice darker than it had been just moments ago. His gaze flicked around the room, assessing the threat. "Those gunshots are going to alert them. We don't have much time."

The shooter, the nervous older man, tightened his grip on the gun and took another shot. Simon barely flinched as the bullet flew past.

He marveled at his own speed — he was moving faster than he'd ever thought possible.

There was no hesitation. No doubt. It felt almost like instinct. Without warning, he sprang forward, closing the gap between him and the man in a flash.

Before the man could pull the trigger again, Simon reached out and crushed the barrel of the gun in his palm.

The sound of metal cracking filled the room, and shards of the weapon fell to the ground with a soft clink.

The older man's eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth opening to protest, but no words came out. He dropped the useless weapon and took a step back, panic flickering across his face.

Simon didn't give him the chance to react. With one swift motion, he raised his other fist and slammed it into the man's stomach.

The force of the punch was enough to knock the wind out of him.

The man's eyes bulged as his body jolted backward, crashing into the wall behind him. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious, his body slumping into an awkward position against the wall.

Simon stood over him, his breathing steady. He didn't feel an ounce of regret or sympathy.

The man had gotten what he deserved — people like him were the living proof that humans would refuse to come together in the Apocalypse.

But as his crimson gaze fell on his own palm, he noticed something — tiny bits of metal were embedded in his skin, remnants of the gun he had crushed.

Blood seeped from the cuts, pooling in his palm.

With a quiet curse, Simon reached down and pulled the shards free. The blood flowed freely for a moment, but before it could drip any further, the air around his hand began to shimmer.

Steam rose from the wounds as the flesh began to close, healing itself at an unnatural speed. Within seconds, the cuts were gone, and his hand was as good as new.

Simon flexed his fingers, marveling at the healing process. It was the first time he'd experienced it and the speed at which it happened amazed him.

His attention drifted back to the room, taking in the disarray around him. Several shelves had been knocked over, their contents scattered across the floor.

Some were empty, others still stocked with supplies. He could make out the shapes of cans and jars among the wreckage. His stomach growled, a deep, aching reminder of just how long it had been since he had eaten anything of substance.

"Food," Simon muttered to himself, his mind quickly snapping into survival mode. "It doesn't matter if it's fresh or canned. I just need to take some food for us."

His eyes scanned the shelves, looking for anything he could carry. He couldn't afford to waste time. Moving quickly, he stepped forward, his boots crunching on the broken glass littering the floor.

As he reached the nearest shelf, a movement caught his eye. At first, he thought it was a shadow, a trick of the light. But no.

His gaze locked onto a bloodied body lying just a few feet away. A man in a white apron, the kind of apron Simon had seen a hundred times in a shop like this. His eyes narrowed, a sickening realization creeping in. It wasn't just any body.

It was the owner.

The man's body was still and lifeless, his skin pale and slack. Blood pooled around him, soaking into the fabric of his apron.

Simon could feel a cold knot form in his stomach, but it wasn't pity that surged through him — it was anger, mixed with a cold dread. In the world they now lived in, survival was a battle against the dead, but it was also a battle against the living.

Anyone could fall victim to this nightmare, and that included people who didn't deserve it.

Simon knelt down next to the body, eyes scanning the room. There was nothing else to be done for the owner.

He couldn't help him, not now. He stood up, turning back to the shelves, but his mind kept racing, still dwelling on the corpse he had left behind.

Then, the cracking sound filled the air — sharp, loud, and unmistakable. It came from the owner's body.

Simon turned in horror, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew exactly what was happening. It was happening again.

The unmistakable transformation, the same thing that had taken place over and over since the world began to fall apart. The corpse was moving. His body was shifting, spasming, as the steam from the wounds surrounded it.

"Shit…" Simon's voice was barely a whisper.

It was becoming a zombie. Just like every other unfortunate soul that had died in this new world.

The air around the body seemed to shimmer with unnatural heat, a faint hiss filling the room as the skin tightened and the muscles contorted.

The once-human face twisted into something grotesque, eyes flickering open to reveal nothing but hunger and violence.

Simon took a step back, his hand hovering near his side, instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.

He didn't have time to think, not if he wanted to survive.

Simon's blood ran cold, but his mind stayed sharp. This was survival. It always came down to that.

In a split second, the once-human owner lunged forward, his movements fast, almost jerky.

Simon's eyes locked onto the zombie as it came at him.

He was ready, but deep down, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if there was ever a point where it was enough. A point where things would finally go back to normal.

But the world had changed. And there was no going back now.