"I am the chosen! I am—"
CRASH!
The industrial chandelier hanging from the ceiling had been swaying on its chain for the last minute. The iron links holding it up had been corroding for years, stressed by weight, weather, and time.
One link snapped, then another.
The whole assembly came down.
The man who had been celebrating his divine pardon had just enough time to look up. His eyes went wide. His mouth opened in a scream that never made it past his throat.
The chandelier struck him.
His skull collapsed like an eggshell. Brain matter burst outward. His body folded under the weight as ribs snapped and his spine shattered into fragments. The chandelier continued downward, crushing him into the floor.
When the dust settled, all that was visible beneath the twisted metal was a spreading pool of blood and other fluids, creeping across the floor in slow tendrils.
Then the blood began to move.
It gathered together and formed words.
JUDGMENT HAS COME.
Silence.
Then someone dropped their rifle.
"No..." One cultist backed away from the message until his legs gave out. He hit the ground. "No, no, no..."
Another fell to his knees, forehead striking the floor over and over as he prostrated himself before the blood-written words.
"The Lord has cast us out! We are forsaken!"
A third man suddenly lurched to his feet. He seized his hair with both hands and tore at it so violently that clumps came free.
"WHY?! Why are you doing this to us?! Everything we did was for YOU! It was to cleanse the world in your name!"
Tears streamed down his face as he spun in a circle.
"If you disapproved, why did you let us continue?! Why did you give us victory after victory?! Why..."
Hands grabbed him from behind.
He didn't have time to turn around before teeth sank into his shoulder.
The walker buried its face in his neck and started feeding.
More cultists started screaming.
Scar-face watched it all from the doorway where he had emerged from the ventilation system.
He grabbed his walkie-talkie and screamed into it.
"WHERE IS THE SHEPHERD?!"
Static answered him.
"THE REAPER IS HERE! DEATH HAS COME FOR US!"
---
The panic spread through the factory.
In the non-combat areas strange accidents began occurring with increasing frequency. Shelves collapsed without warning, gas lines ruptured, and rusted bolts snapped at exactly the wrong moment.
Some cultists survived their encounters and fell to their knees in prayer, convinced they had been spared by divine grace. They wept with relief, thanking God for his mercy.
Others weren't so lucky.
They died quietly in the dark corners of the factory, their bodies found hours later with messages written nearby in their own blood.
But there was one group that Death was taking special interest in.
---
Three young cultists sat around a table covered in empty cans and food wrappers, their rifles propped against the wall within easy reach. They were supposed to be on watch rotation, but fuck that. Let the older guys handle the heavy lifting. They deserved a break.
The one with dreadlocks, Tyler, kept glancing at the door. "You guys hear that?"
"Hear what?" Marcus, built like he had played football in high school, wiped meat sauce from his chin with the back of his hand.
"I swear I keep hearing people scream."
"Probably those sinners acting up again." Marcus shrugged. "Shepherd will handle it."
Ashley, a girl with freckles scattered across her nose, leaned forward with a wide grin. "Forget about that. You guys hear what they did with that redneck asshole?"
Tyler perked up immediately. "The one with the crossbow?"
"Yeah! Daryl or whatever. They threw him in the Confession Chamber."
"No shit?" Marcus slapped the table. "The cage?"
"Yep!" Ashley's eyes were bright. "I walked past it earlier. The walkers were going crazy, trying to get at him through the bars. He was probably pissing himself."
Tyler's grin widened. "Just pissing himself? That's boring. I grabbed some meat scraps from the kitchen earlier." He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket. "I figured we could sneak over there, toss these through the bars, and get the walkers really worked up."
"Oh my God, he would lose his mind." Ashley covered her mouth, giggling.
"He might die from fear before the Corpse's Kiss even happens." Tyler laughed. "Can you imagine? All that buildup and he just drops dead from a heart attack?"
Marcus shook his head. "When did you get so generous? Trying to give him an easy way out?"
Tyler's smile turned cruel. "I am just worried the walkers might be too hungry by the time we get to the ceremony. Their kisses won't be enthusiastic enough."
All three burst into laughter.
SLAM!
Then the heavy steel door to the break room slammed shut.
The laughter stopped instantly.
"What the hell?" Tyler jumped to his feet and rushed to the door. He grabbed the handle and pulled.
Nothing happened.
He pulled harder this time, throwing his weight into it. "Shit! It is stuck!"
"Move." Marcus shoved him aside and threw his shoulder against the door. The impact made him grunt in pain, but the door didn't budge even a fraction of an inch. "Fuck! Someone locked us in!"
"The back way!" Ashley pointed to the emergency exit on the opposite side of the room. "Come on!"
They scrambled toward it.
Above the emergency exit, a rusted rail system ran along the ceiling. A massive crane hook hung in the shadows.
Marcus reached the exit first, shoving Ashley aside in his haste. "Out of my way!"
He grabbed the door handle.
SCREECH.
"The fuck?" He looked up.
The crane hook was falling.
He managed half a step backward before the hook's point hit him.
It entered through the crown of his skull, the force driving him to his knees. The hook kept going, exiting through his jaw. His body jerked once, twice, then went still as the hook pinned him to the concrete floor.
Blood sprayed across the floor.
Tyler and Ashley stood frozen, staring at what used to be Marcus.
His limbs were still twitching. Blood and brain matter oozed from the gaps around the steel hook, pooling on the floor.
The pool spread and shaped itself.
JUDGMENT HAS COME.
"NO!"
"Shut up! SHUT UP!" Tyler grabbed Ashley's arm and yanked her toward the only remaining exit. "Move!"
They ran.
The elevator was at the end of a dark hallway. Tyler hit the call button over and over, slamming his palm against it.
"Come on, come on, come ON!"
A mechanical groan echoed through the shaft. The cables creaked under strain. The gate rattled open.
"Get in!" Tyler shoved Ashley toward the opening.
Ashley stumbled through the gate, arms windmilling for balance.
Her foot met empty air.
There was no elevator car.
"AHHH!"
Her scream echoed as she fell, arms flailing, trying to grab onto something. Her fingers caught the edge of the gate frame for half a second before her momentum ripped them free.
Tyler was right behind her, already stepping through the gate, when he saw her vanish into the blackness. He threw himself backward, catching the frame to stop his forward motion.
Ashley's hands appeared at the edge, fingers scrabbling for grip on the metal lip.
"Help me!"
For a moment, Tyler stared at those hands. Then his expression hardened. Instead of reaching down to grab her, he lifted his boot and brought it down on her wrist.
"Ah!"
She lost her grip and fell into the darkness below.
The sound of impact reached him three seconds later.
Tyler slumped against the wall.
"Stupid bitch," he muttered. "Should have held on tighter."
Then something moved.
Droplets of blood slid across the wall in front of him. They moved upward, defying gravity as they slowly gathered together.
JUDGMENT HAS COME.
"What... what is this?!"
He scrambled to his feet and started running. Panic drove him forward until the corridor ended at a heavy fire door with a crash bar across it.
He threw himself against the bar with all his weight.
The door did not move.
"No! NO!" He beat his fists against the metal. "Let me out! PLEASE!"
Click.
The crash bar turned on its own.
The door swung open.
Standing on the other side was a woman with dark hair and Tyler's favorite band logo on her torn t-shirt.
"Melissa?! Oh thank God, thank GOD!"
He stumbled through the door and threw his arms around her, burying his face against her shoulder.
"We have to run! There is some kind of demon or... or I don't know, but people are dying and..."
He stopped.
Melissa's arms around him felt too stiff.
Slowly, dreading what he would see, he lifted his head.
Melissa's eyes were clouded white. Her jaw hung open, exposing teeth stained dark.
"No," he whispered. "No, you can't be..."
She lunged forward and bit down on his neck.
Tyler screamed as her teeth tore through muscle and tendon, ripping out a chunk of flesh. Blood sprayed across the wall behind him. He tried to pull away, but her hands held him in place while she chewed.
His vision was greying at the edges. The world tilting sideways.
Through the fog of shock and blood loss, he heard a voice.
"This is the Corpse's Kiss. Do you accept this outcome?"
Tyler's legs gave out. He slid down the wall, leaving a red smear behind him. Melissa followed him down, still feeding.
The last thing he saw before the darkness took him was the blood pooling beneath him, flowing across the floor in patterns.
JUDGMENT HAS COME.