CHAPTER 34: SECOND POWER [1]

An hour had crawled by since I had sex with Elena to cure her.

A soft rustling sound drew my attention as Elena’s eyelashes began to flutter. Her breathing changed, becoming less deep and regular. I straightened in my chair, unsure of what to expect when she fully awakened.

"Hn..." The small sound escaped her lips as consciousness slowly returned.

Elena’s eyes opened gradually. For a moment, she stared at the ceiling above, her expression blank and confused. Then, as awareness crept back into her features, she attempted to sit up.

A sharp intake of breath accompanied her movement, and her face immediately contorted in discomfort. Her brow furrowed deeply as the reality of her physical state became apparent. The pain was clearly significant down there...

"Careful," I said softly, making no move to help her. The last thing she needed was my hands on her again so soon I believe.

Elena managed to raise her upper body despite the discomfort, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. Her movements were slow, each shift of position causing her to wince slightly. She looked around the small room with growing awareness before she froze.

Her gaze traveled downward to her legs, and the memory of what had happened crashed over her like a cold wave. Instinctively, her thighs pressed together and her hands moved to pull her skirt down, though it was already properly positioned. The gesture was purely reflexive – a attempt to reclaim some measure of modesty after the intimate violation of her body.

I had taken care to dress her properly afterward, ensuring her clothing was neat and arranged as if nothing had occurred. But clothing couldn’t erase the physical evidence of what had transpired between us.

Elena’s hand trembled as she reached for her shirt, checking to make sure it was properly buttoned. Everything appeared normal on the surface, but the persistent ache between her legs served as an undeniable confirmation of her lost innocence.

When she finally looked in my direction, her eyes were filled with a complex mixture of emotions – embarrassment, confusion, and something that might have been gratitude warring with shame. I sat there awkwardly, unsure of how to meet her gaze.

"Sorry," I began, my voice rougher than intended. "I couldn’t just... leave you like that. I found some water and tissues in the supply cabinet over there." I gestured toward the corner of the room. "I used them to clean... to clean you down there, and I wiped down the table and... well, I tried to make you comfortable. But I didn’t do anything else, I promise. I just wanted you to wake up with some dignity intact."

The admission hung in the air between us. Elena blinked several times, processing my words, before her face turned a deep shade of crimson. She looked away quickly, unable to maintain eye contact.

"W...was I... was I actually cured?" She asked first She glanced down at her hands, then blinked in surprise when she noticed they were wrapped in strips of torn fabric.

I had used pieces of an old sheet I’d found to cover the bite mark. The sight of them wrapped and hidden was clearly unexpected.

"I chose to cover them just in case someone saw," I explained. "But yes, you’re cured. You should feel the difference, right? The burning sensation should be completely gone."

Elena swallowed hard looking at her hands. She stared at her body in wonder, then pressed her palm against her stomach for some reason, as if checking for other changes in her body.

"Y...yes," she breathed, her voice filled with amazement. "This is... you really did cure me?" She looked at me with wide eyes, the reality of her salvation finally sinking in completely.

Hearing about miraculous healing was one thing, but experiencing it firsthand was entirely different. The Infection had been completely eradicated.

"I told you I could," I said with a weak smile, though I quickly averted my gaze. The memory of what we’d done was still too fresh, too raw. "Elena... during the... during the process, I kissed you. It wasn’t necessary for the cure. I am sorry about that."

I had to apologize for that as it wasn’t necessary at all for curing her and somewhat I felt guilty about it.

Elena’s blush deepened even further, and I could see her lips trembling as the full memory of our encounter came flooding back. The way she had responded to my touch, the sounds she had made, the moment when pain had given way to something else entirely.

Now that it was over, the awkwardness settled between us.

"I couldn’t hold back," I continued, forcing myself to be honest. "I had a hard time maintaining control, and kissing helped calm some of my... urges."

"Urges?" Elena’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"You’re better off not knowing the details..." I said, trailing off purposefully.

If I told her I wanted to rip her shirt away, then her bra to suck her twin peaks and then fuck her even harder and faster until she...

No!

I shook my head quickly.

These vile thoughts!

Begone!

"O...okay," Elena acquiesced quickly, clearly picking up on the serious tone in my voice. She gripped her arm nervously, then took a shaky breath. "I... I didn’t trust it at first, when you said you could cure me. It seemed too good to be true. But you really did save me, and for that..." She paused, searching for the right words. "I am truly thankful."

"You’re welcome. It’s better than losing your hand, right?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted the callousness of the statement.

She was a woman who had just lost her virginity under desperate circumstances. How could I possibly understand what that sacrifice meant to her?

"Sorry," I added quickly. "That was thoughtless of me."

"Yes, kind of," Elena replied, surprising me with her honesty. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands rather than looking at me. "I didn’t want to lose my hand... my ability to work, to take care of myself. I still feel... hurt that I had to do this here, in this place, at this time. But..." Her voice carried a mixture of bitterness and relief. "I’m alive, at least. I really thought I was finished, so... thank you."

"I should be the one thanking you," I muttered under my breath.

After all, she was the third woman I’d been intimate with in just two days, and she was another breathtaking beauty who had...

"W...what did you just say?!" Elena’s voice rose sharply, and I realized I hadn’t spoken as quietly as I’d thought, her usual toughness back along her glare.

"N...nothing," I blurted out quickly, faced with her blushing, angry, and deeply embarrassed expression.

Elena glared at me as if she was about to cry, her arms instinctively moving to cover her body even though she was fully clothed. The gesture was heartbreaking in its vulnerability.

It was far too late for modesty, I thought, but I kept that observation to myself.

"Anyway," I said, standing from the chair and stretching my stiff muscles, "we should rejoin the others. They’ll be wondering where we disappeared to."

"Wait," Elena called out as I moved toward the door. Her voice was hesitant, uncertain. "Aren’t you going to tell me about your... your strange powers? How is any of this possible...?"

I paused with my hand on the door handle, considering how much to reveal. The truth was, I barely understood it myself.

"I honestly have no idea how it works," I admitted, shaking my head. "I only awakened these abilities the day I got bitten and thought I was going to die. Everything about this is new to me." I turned to face her, my expression growing serious. "But Elena, please... don’t tell anyone about this. I’m keeping these powers secret, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. There are people who would use this information in ways that could hurt both of us."

I didn’t know how I was sure of that but that dream I had clearly warned me on top of revealing my ability.

Elena nodded lightly. "I won’t tell anyone," she promised. Then, her face reddening again, she added, "But you have to promise me something as well. You won’t tell anyone about what happened here between us..."

What we had shared was intimate and desperate, born of necessity but no less meaningful for that fact. It was a secret that would bind us together, whether we wanted it to or not.

"I won’t, don’t worry—your sister might kill me," I said, forcing a weak chuckle into my voice to somewhat cool down the awkwardness between us.

But Elena’s reaction wasn’t what I expected. Instead of the smile or I hoped for, she gave me a look that made my stomach drop—a mixture of fear and something else I couldn’t quite place.

"She might really..." Elena’s voice trailed off.

"What?" I pressed, leaning forward slightly.

"Nothing..." Elena said quickly, too quickly. She slid down from the table she had been on, but the moment her feet touched the cold concrete floor, her legs buckled. The pain from losing her virginity hit her, and I could see it written across her face—a sharp intake of breath, eyes squeezed shut, her hand instinctively moving to steady herself against the table’s edge.

Without thinking, I reached out and caught her arm, my fingers wrapping around her elbow to keep her from falling. But the moment my skin touched hers, she flinched away from me as if I’d burned her.

I jerked my hand back, holding it up in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry," I said, the word coming out rougher than I intended.

"N...No, it’s just..." Elena’s face had gone pale.There was panic in her eyes now, raw and undisguised. "Just give me time...it still feels strange for me."

I could see her struggling to process what had happened—not just the physical act, but everything that came with it. The intimacy, the vulnerability, the way her world had shifted in the span of a few desperate minutes. She was trying to reconcile the Elena she had been an hour ago with the Elena she was now, and I could see the battle playing out across her features.

I nodded slowly, giving her the space she needed. "Yeah, take your time," I said, my voice gentler now. "I’ll check outside, give you a moment to..." I gestured vaguely, not sure how to finish that sentence. "Just rest a bit."

I turned away from her, partly to give her privacy and partly because seeing her in such distress was twisting something painful in my gut. My footsteps echoed hollowly on the concrete as I made my way toward the door. It was closed and secured with an old-fashioned key that hung from a simple hook beside the frame.

As I approached it, I reached for the key, my fingers closing around the cool metal. We’d fallen from the rooftop, but not too far—maybe one floor down from where the Director’s office was supposed to be. At least, that’s what I hoped. Sydney and the others should have made it inside by now, assuming they’d managed to avoid the worst of the chaos outside.

The key turned with a soft click that seemed unnaturally loud in the silence.

Almost immediately, I could hear them—the grunts and shuffling footsteps that had become the soundtrack to this nightmare. I eased the door open just a crack, peering through the narrow gap into the hallway beyond.

Five of them for now. I could see five infected shambling around the corridor, but there could easily be more lurking in the shadows or tucked away in the other rooms. The hallway stretched in both directions, lined with what looked like office doors—probably teacher’s lounges or administrative spaces.

"Do you have any idea how to get to the Director’s office floor, Elena?" I asked over my shoulder, not turning away from my surveillance of the hallway.

"No..." Her voice was small. "I never came to this floor or the higher floors, actually."

"I see." I suppressed a sigh. Of course she hadn’t. Why would a student have any reason to visit the administrative levels of the school except she had some kind of problems?

So it was up to me to figure out our path. I grabbed the knife I’d left resting on the chair.

"Stay here," I told Elena, glancing back to make sure she was listening.

I slipped out into the hallway, pulling the door closed as quietly as possible behind me.

The nearest infected noticed me almost immediately. Its head snapped in my direction with that unnatural, jerky movement they all had, and it began its lurching approach. I sidestepped quickly, grabbing it by the shoulders and using its momentum to push it into one of the nearby rooms. I slammed the door shut behind it and heard the satisfying thud of its body hitting the far wall.

That left five counting the one I hadn’t noticed. I took stock of my situation: three shambling toward me from the left, two approaching from the right. The hallway was narrow enough that they couldn’t all rush me at once, but wide enough that I couldn’t simply bottleneck them.

My mind raced, trying to formulate a plan. We were trapped in the middle of the corridor with threats on both sides, and I had no idea where the stairs were or how to get to the upper floors. Just as frustration began to build in my chest, my gaze fell on something mounted on the wall directly in front of me.

Behind a small glass panel was a floor plan—one of those emergency evacuation maps that all public buildings were required to have. I could see the layout of the entire floor, labeled rooms, and most importantly, the location of the stairwells.

I found myself smiling widely.

Finally some luck!

I used the butt of my knife to shatter the glass, the sound ringing out sharply in the confined space. Several of the infected turned toward the noise, their movements becoming more agitated. I quickly pulled the map free, studying it for just a moment to orient myself.

The main stairwell was about fifty feet to my left, past the group of three infected. There was a service stairway closer to my right, but it looked like it might only go down to the basement levels. If I wanted to reach Sydney and the others, I needed to go up.

I looked at the approaching infected on both sides, weighing my options. Eventually, we’d have to fight our way out of here anyway if we wanted to leave this floor. And if I was going to do it, better to do it now while I still had the element of surprise.

I tightened my grip on the knife handle. The two on my right were closer.

I rushed toward them, keeping low and fast. The first one reached out with grasping hands, fingers bent like claws, but I was ready for it. I ducked under its arms and swept my leg out, catching it behind the knees. It toppled backward with a wet thud, arms windmilling uselessly.

The second one was right behind it, and I didn’t have time to dance around. I pressed myself against the wall and drove the knife forward, aiming for center mass. The blade punched through its chest with a sickening squelch, and I used my leverage against the wall to drive it deeper, pinning the creature against the opposite side of the hallway.

But it didn’t stop moving. Its hands came up toward my throat, fingers scrabbling for purchase on my neck. I knocked its arms away with my free hand while keeping the knife buried in its chest, right where the heart should be.

This was insane. I’d stabbed it directly in the heart, and it was still trying to kill me. The infection had progressed far beyond anything I’d imagined possible.

Below me, the first infected had recovered and was grasping at my legs, trying to pull me down to its level. I kicked it hard in the face, feeling something crunch under my boot, but it barely seemed to notice.

No choices then.

I grabbed the infected in front of me by the face, feeling the unnatural coldness of its skin under my palm, and began working the knife upward toward its skull. It took several savage thrusts before I managed to punch through bone and into the brain tissue beneath. Only then did it finally go still.

I let the body drop and immediately turned my attention to the one on the ground. It was still grabbing at me, still trying to drag me down despite the fact that I’d caved in most of its face. I raised the knife high and brought it down on its neck, again and again, until I’d managed to sever the head completely.

"Grr!"

The sound came from directly behind me, close enough that I could feel breath on the back of my neck. My blood ran cold as I realized the other three had closed the distance while I’d been fighting.

"Freeze!" The word exploded from my lips, and the world around me ground to a halt.

I turned slowly, fighting through the pain, and assessed my situation. Three infected, frozen mid-lunge, their faces twisted into masks of hunger and rage. One was so close I could see the individual threads in its torn clothing, the dried blood caked under its fingernails.

I had to end this quickly. The headache was already building to unbearable levels, and I could feel the power slipping away from me like water through my fingers.

I raised the knife, but hesitated. Beheading them would be the surest way to ensure they stayed down, but the kitchen knife was slick with blood and gore now. The handle was becoming slippery, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength or the right angle to cut through bone and sinew.

Still, I had to try.

I drew back the blade and swung with everything I had, putting my entire body behind the strike. "Please cut," I whispered, begging whatever force controlled this nightmare world.

And then something extraordinary happened.

The knife began to glow.

It started as a faint shimmer, like heat waves rising from summer pavement, but quickly intensified into a brilliant ethereal green that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. The light was so bright it made my eyes water, and I could feel power flowing through the blade like electricity through a wire.

SPATTER!

The knife cut through the first infected’s neck as if it were made of butter, sending the head spinning away in a perfect arc. But it didn’t stop there—the blade continued its path and took the head clean off the second infected as well, the supernatural edge parting flesh and bone without the slightest resistance.

The third infected was still frozen in time, its arms outstretched, mouth agape. I could see my own reflection in its glassy eyes as I brought the glowing blade around one more time. Another perfect cut, another head separated from its body.

Then the glow flickered and died, and time resumed its normal flow.

"Wh...what?" I stammered, staring at the knife in my hand. It looked completely ordinary now—just a blood-stained kitchen blade with a worn wooden handle. But I’d seen what it had done, felt the power flowing through it.

And then I noticed something else.

I glanced down at my right arm and gasped. There, wrapped around my forearm like a chain, was a tattoo that definitely hadn’t been there before. The design was complex and beautiful, all flowing lines and geometric patterns that seemed to shift and move when I wasn’t looking directly at them. It was a dark green hue flickering.