"Shoot the head bro! The head!!" My brother yells at me while we play a horror first person shooter game. "Zombies die when you shoot them in the head!"
"What if I shoot the legs, won't that stop them from moving?" I ask as I violently tap on my controller.
"Yes but they won't die, everybody knows that! The head man! The head!" He demonstrates it by scoring three headshots in a row. "See! It's not hard!"
"Ok ok I got this!" I say.
"Getting cold feet already?" John pokes my shoulder with his shotgun. "Come on, we must not fall behind." He turns around and walks forward, I silently walk behind him.
"Slow down guys, targets up ahead." Norman stops walking and looks from behind the corner.
"How many are there?" John asks as he prepares to charge forward.
"Around 40 visible right ahead. Go, I'll cover your 6. Alan, follow John's lead." He removes his gun's safety. "Go!"
John gets out of the cover and shoots at them, one of them collapses but the rest get alarmed by the noise and advance towards us.
"Any time would be good, Alan." Norman yells at me.
"R…Right!" I hesitate to leave the corner, Norman pushes me forward and I face the small horde, they looked like normal humans but were dull, their faces were pale, their eyes were white and emotionless and their mouths were covered in blood.
I raise my arms to point the pistols at them, however the fear of I'm feeling is making them shake violently, I can't even pull the trigger to shoot.
"Get a hold of yourself kid! I thought you said you knew how to use these!" John says while he fights off the advancing horde, they were falling slowly one by one.
"I told you we shouldn't have brought him! Look at him! He's a mess!" Norman joins the battle using his blue rifle.
Suddenly, everything went slow, I can see the 10 remaining zombies move so slow it's as if they are standing. "Haaaaaaaah!" I yell as I take my first shot, fueled by rage, my heart is beating so loud it feels like I'm in a rock concert. It may have been Norman's words that moved my anger, or the fact that I felt the angel of death standing next to me waiting to reap my soul; these poor zombies were my punching bag, I needed to unleash the fury that was hidden within. Why was all this happening now of all times! Just when I was going to have a break after five agonizing years.
"Look at him go!" John looks at me in shock as I take the remaining zombies down. "I knew you had it in you; it was in your eyes. Perfect headshots!"
"He took 10 down in an instant! Respect!" Norman nods at me.
"Thank… you." My eyes widen as I look at the dead bodies that are lying on the floor in a big puddle of blood.
"It hit you huh? The regret of your first kill, don't worry about it. They were already dead, and if you didn't kill them they would have killed an innocent human." John tries to calm me down. "Your shooting was great, and it wasn't just beginner's luck, no lucky man would get 10 out of 10 headshots, you have it in you, you’re a rare breed kid."
"A rare breed?" He activates my curiosity.
"Yea, rage enhances your abilities, your heart beats faster when you're angry which improves your reaction time and focus ability. You have probably felt it before, you felt time slowed down and you were able to detect the tiniest details, right?" John asks as he holsters his shotgun.
"I… think so, a couple of times."
"Try to control it now, to reach that stage on your own, and you will become an asset instead of a liability." Norman says with a grin.
"Come on, this was only the beginning, you now know how to use your guns and how to kill those freaks, it's time to get to work. Let's proceed to terminal 2." John leads the way.
"Stop, from now on it's going to be us against a giant horde, we're getting closer to terminal 4, that's where these things are coming from." Norman warns us as soon as we reach terminal 2's gate.
"Yea, we should stick together. We'll rest a bit after clearing this area! Good luck guys." John picks up his shotgun. "Are you ready Alan?"
"Yes, let's go!" I run through the gate, followed by John and Norman. The scene before us is repulsive, it needed to disappear. We start shooting.