Chapter 1 The Night the Moon Died
Chicago, United States – March, 2024
Thanh Long sat quietly in the far corner of the classroom, next to the window where the weak spring sunlight struggled to filter through the dusty old curtains. The chipped wooden desk bore the scars of teenage rebellion—carvings from students long gone, etched like wounds in the surface.
All around him were voices, laughter, and lively conversations in fluent English. No matter how good he was at his studies, Long always felt like an outsider in a world that didn’t want him.
> “That broke-ass Viet kid.” “Why don’t you crawl back to whatever flooded village you came from?”
The whispers, the snickering, like tiny needles stabbing at his mind—day after day. No one needed him. No friends. No family. Not even a shadow to lean on.
Every time a teacher entered, the bullying would vanish like it had never existed. But the contempt in his math teacher’s eyes never did. To them, Long was a “parasitic immigrant”—a burden, an unwanted stain on the civilized society they so proudly claimed.
Yet he kept going. He endured.
Because it was the only thing he knew how to do.
---
After school.
The alley behind the school was bathed in the last light of dusk, painted like a smear of blood across the sky.
They were waiting for him.
Five of them. Leeches of society, feeding off others’ misery just to feel powerful.
> “Hey, Thanh Long.”
Jason, their leader, called out, his voice like a blunt blade scraping across Long’s mind.
> “Heard you got a scholarship, huh?”
He swaggered forward, gripping a baseball bat, his grin twisted with mockery. The others followed, laughing like stray dogs circling prey.
> “Smart little parasite, aren’t you?”
Jason sneered, voice low but laced with venom.
> “You think this country wants trash like you rising up? Let me teach you your final lesson.”
And then they attacked.
Each punch, each kick hammered into Long’s thin frame. His vision blurred, blood filled his mouth, ears rang—and still, inside, he felt nothing.
Just like always. Day after day, for years.
But today… something was different.
As his blood stained the cold ground, as his vision dimmed, a voice echoed faintly in his mind:
> “How long will you keep crawling?”
“How long will you live as prey?”
In that moment, something inside his chest exploded.
No more fear. No more tolerance. No more submission.
Thanh Long stood.
His first punch roared like thunder.
Jason dropped instantly, nose shattered from what should’ve been a desperate blow. One of the others lunged—Long dodged on instinct and drove his knee into the guy’s ribs. A sickening crunch echoed.
Blood. Screams. Eyes wide in terror.
In less than two minutes, the five who had tormented him for years were on the ground.
Two of them would never get up again.
---
The next day.
Local headlines exploded:
“Vietnamese Teen Behind School Massacre.”
“Orphaned Immigrant Kills Classmates.”
No one asked why.
No one cared what he had suffered.
They only saw the blood.
Thanh Long was expelled immediately.
Alone. More hated than ever.
People stared at him like disease.
Old friends avoided him like plague.
His landlord threw him out within two days.
He officially belonged nowhere.
---
Then came the night of March 13.
After nearly 24 hours of wandering the streets, exhausted and hollow, Long passed out in a filthy rented room, wrapped in a torn blanket with an empty stomach and bloodshot eyes.
In the dead of night, the earth trembled.
An explosion thundered from the sky.
Unfamiliar sounds roared, like voices of forgotten gods returning from the stars.
Long jolted awake, gasping.
He looked out the cracked window
and froze.
A colossal shadow, massive and unreal, loomed in the heavens. It stretched across the void like living darkness itself, slowly wrapping around the moon.
Cracks spread across the lunar surface like a spider’s web.
CRACK—CRACK—BOOM!!
The moon shattered into billions of silver shards.
And from the void it left behind… a new moon emerged.
The Blood Moon.
Deep crimson. Frozen. Malevolent.
Its light bathed the world in red.
And the world…
died.
---
The morning after.
Survival in a crimson hell.
Wind howled through shattered windows.
The sickly sunlight, twisted and pale, barely lit the ruined room.
Thanh Long awoke from a nightmare—but it wasn't the dream that woke him.
It was a scream.
> “AAAAHHHH—!!”
A shriek tore through the air.
He staggered outside.
And what he saw…
made him doubt his sanity.
The entire street was a scene from hell.
People writhed, screaming, clawing at their own bodies like something was tearing them apart from the inside.
Some swelled up and exploded—blood and organs splattering everywhere.
Others twisted, bones cracking, limbs stretching into alien shapes.
This was no longer America.
This was the apocalypse.
Stomach growling, throat burning, Long frantically searched the nearby houses.
Empty fridges.
Looted stores.
Supermarkets littered with corpses—some still warm.
In the back of one market, he found some crackers, a few bottles of water, and a kitchen knife.
His hands shook as he grabbed them.
That was all he had.
And it would have to be enough.
---
The days that followed.
Thanh Long wandered through a blood-soaked city.
By day, he hid in rubble.
By night, he moved under the Blood Moon like a hunted beast.
He learned to avoid the creatures.
They hunted by sound, light, and the scent of blood.
More than once, he barely escaped the “Reptile Eyes”—zombies with bulging fish-like eyes, sharp screeches, and spider-like limbs that moved with terrifying speed.
One night, he spent hours buried in a garbage pile, covered in buzzing flies, just to evade a patrol.
Every second he survived was a victory.
---
First contact.
Day five.
While scavenging an abandoned market on the outskirts of town, he heard voices.
> “It’s in here.”
“Easy, could be a trap.”
His heart pounded.
For the first time in days… human voices.
Real people.
Four of them.
Three men, one woman.
Heavy coats, makeshift weapons—pipes, bats, knives.
The leader, a scarred man in his 30s, eyed him like prey.
> “Calm down. Who are you? Bitten?”
He pointed a handmade gun straight at Long.
Long raised his hands, mouth dry:
> “I… I’m alive. I haven’t been bitten...”
After some inspection, they let him join.
For the first time in days, Thanh Long felt a flicker of human warmth.
They were survivors like him, banded together to stay alive.
They shared food, water, and whispers of the world falling apart.
---
True darkness.
But no one was truly kind anymore.
After a few days, Long began to notice the stares.
The hushed talks at night.
How they looked at him—not like a friend… but like meat.
---
Day ten.
The betrayal.
While crossing a narrow ravine near the forest edge, the leader clapped Long on the shoulder with a friendly smile.
> “You’ve been real helpful, kid. But… food’s running low.”
WHAM!
A punch from behind knocked him to the ground.
Everything went black.
---
Betrayal.
He woke up bound and stripped of supplies.
They stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down coldly.
> “Sorry, kid.”
“Hey, at least we let you live ten more days.”
WHUMP!
A heavy kick sent him flying.
He plummeted into the abyss.
No one looked back.
No one cared if he lived or died.
