Behind the Gash
Beside the glittering vortex that leads out of the physical plane and Beyond the Pale, you spot another portal -- a jagged rip in the fabric of space-time. Beyond it you hear, faintly, the sounds of battle.
It suddenly dawns on you what must be done.
You leap into the temporal rift, and into a swirling chaos of color and sound that soon settles into the more familiar chaos of a battlefield. The blue-armored forces of Dyspepsi-Cola are facing off against the red-armored Cloaca-Cola soldiers, but they have a singularly menacing trait in common: the wet, hacking -cough- of the Gray Plague.
You race to a medical tent, where a worried-looking doctor is conferring with one of the Cloaca-Cola generals. Nearby, bound to a cot with leather straps, another doctor moans listlessly. One look at his glazed-over eyes is all you need -- this man has obviously succumbed to the plague, and become a zombie.
"I can't explain it, General," says the doctor. "The gray plague is killing these men, and yet they walk!"
"Well, that's good, isn't it? That means our soldiers are undefeatable!"
The doctor glares at him. "Certainly, sir, except for two important issues: firstly, the Dyspepsi soldiers are equally affected."
"Blast. What's the other problem?"
"They attack all living men, indiscriminately! If we don't -cough- ...if we don't figure out a cure, the entire nation -- the entire world will be at risk from these creatures! Even Dr. von Galaktik here has succumbed, and he was our best hope for finding a solution..."
"I have a solution," you say. The two men turn to stare at you in surprise.
"I say," the General begins, "Who are-"
| "There's no time to explain!" |
"There's no time to explain," you interrupt. "I don't think I could manage it, even if there was." You point at the restrained zombie. "Doctor, you need to take out this man's pineal gland."
"His pineal gland?"
"Yes. You can use the pineal glands of the zombies to synthesize an antidote and vaccine. I'm afraid I don't know the exact details of the process, but you should be able to figure it out."
"Incredible!" The doctor rolls up his sleeves and reaches for a scalpel. "I'll begin straight away!"
You put a hand on his shoulder. "One more thing, and this is the most important part. Once you've worked out the formulation of the cure, you must write it down. Don't forget!"
You leave the doctor to his work, and find a quiet corner to wait in, away from the Cloaca-Cola soldiers, whose delicious brains you can practically smell. The hunger is torture. You have little hope that Ofuxxor™ will cure someone as far gone as yourself, but you must at least confirm that the cure is found, and the Kingdom saved.
After several hours, a medic runs up to you. "The doctor sent me to find you!" he says, an excited gleam in his eye. "The serum works! Here, roll up your sleeve!" He holds up a hypodermic needle filled with a sickly, glowing green liquid.
"Does it work on people who have already... changed?" you ask.
"No, but you're still talking, aren't you? Plenty of time!"
You haven't the heart to tell him, so you let him inject you. Your body starts convulsing almost immediately. You hear the medic say "What the? None of the others reacted--" and then everything goes black.
| "Continue..." |
In the darkness, you can feel your body screaming. You reach out to it, attempting to calm it, to take control. This body may be zombified, but it's yours, that much is clear. After all, this is the second life you've spent in it.
"Live!" you command the weary flesh. "Live! Remember who and what you are! You are <playername>! You're a... a..."
Oh god, you can't remember. What was it?
| "A Seal Clubber" |
| "A Turtle Tamer" |
| "A Pastamancer" |
| "A Sauceror" |
| "A Disco Bandit" |
| "An Accordion Thief" |
"<class>!" you shout into the blackness. "I'm <playername> the <class>! And I'm alive!"
Your eyes snap open and you sit bolt upright with a gasp. Your lungs fill with air for the first time in what seems like forever. You hold up your hands, and can see the color slowly coming back into your skin.
The army doctor is giving you a worried look. "Touch-and-go for a bit there, fella. You're looking a lot better now, though. How do you feel?"
"I feel better. Much better."
"Well let me tell you, you're a right hero 'round here! That tip about the pineal glands was just the thing I needed!" He pulls a leather-bound journal out of his coat pocket. "Wrote the formula down, too, just like you said." He puts his hand on your forehead. "Yup, I think you'll be right as rain. Can I get you anything? Cup of coffee? Ham sandwich?"
You've never tasted anything as delicious as that ham sandwich.
Alternate Text
If you drop Zombie Slayer from the account menu:
Everything goes dark.
"How disappointing," says the voice from before. "I was so looking forward to playing with you some more. I suppose I'll just have to have all my fun in one go."
Every nerve-ending in your body explodes.
You attempt, desperately, to fight through the pain. "You won't break me!" you shout. "I'm <playername>! I'm a... a..."
The pain makes it almost impossible to remember.
| "A Seal Clubber" |
| "A Turtle Tamer" |
| "A Pastamancer" |
| "A Sauceror" |
| "A Disco Bandit" |
| "An Accordion Thief" |
"<Class>!" you shout into the blackness. "I'm <playername> the <class>! And I'm alive!"
You sit bolt upright in bed with a gasp. The sun is shining outside, and everything looks normal. Were you just having some kind of crazy dream?
Yeah, probably.
Notes
- Occurs at the end of a Zombie Slayer ascension.
- The Gray Plague first swept through the Kingdom in 2005, threatening to turn everyone into zombies, but it was cured by Doc Galaktik, who used zombie glands pineal to make loaded serum blowguns full of Ofuxxor™.
