Survival is Crucial

Disco Zombi Italia

A man sat on a bed, shotgun in hand, and pointed to the door laid in wait as multiple shot rang out from the other side, screaming and the thuds of bodies colliding against the ground and the incessant tinge of guilt with each sound that loudly blasted through the crack of the door. He licked his lips and prepared himself, taking a deep breath before repositioning himself, keeping the barrel of his gun pointed at the door. All commotion stopped for a moment as the cracking of wood bending against boots could be heard approaching the door until finally, a shadow blocked the crack under the doorway. They tested the door and as they did, the man on the bed fired, tearing the doorknob from its hinges and causing shrapnel to fly in all directions. The person on the other side of the door flew back, flying back into the wall behind them as their stomach spilled open, blood and viscera pouring out from their body as their face laid blank and lifeless from their neck.

The man c****d the shotgun, catching a shell as it flew into the air before chucking it outside the doorway, quickly putting his hand back under the barrel as a shot is fired, hitting the shell in the air. The man moved to be more behind the wall of the room he was in, listening closely to footsteps before firing through the wall, killing another one as bullets flew through their arm, torso, head, stray pellets hitting the wall beside them as they collapsed to the ground. Another c*****g of the gun and two shots rang out beside the man, both missing, but he knew that they were onto him. He dived towards the window before slamming it open until two men stumbled inside the room, firing and hitting him in the leg before he spun around and shot at them both, one of them diving before the other one found themselves flying into the wall behind them, causing a massive dent before falling limp.

The man clambered his way out of the room through the window before falling down a one-floor drop. He slapped onto the ground, groaning in pain as two other men sprinted outside, firing at him. He c****d his gun, getting hit in the arm in the process while his feet skid across the ground, crawling away on his back before firing once again. Another dived onto a car while one took the blast, the man c*****g the shotgun once again and firing at the one who dived, destroying the car in the process as they winced in pain the instant the pellets hit them.

He c****d the shotgun again, making his way up and off of the ground before limping away, attempting to make it to his car which sat just outside of the club they were just in.

He made his way around the corner before getting shot multiple times. Face, torso, mouth, arms, hands, feet, every part of his body was filled with bullets as they stopped once in a while to reload their weapons. The sidewalk stained with his blood, brains, bones, flesh, without a doubt, he was dead. His mouth leaked a bright red froth as his eyes went slanted, his nose running with snot as piss ran down his pants. Each one and every one of them, all who had shot this man put bags over their head, weird marking scribbled across them before putting a gun to their own heads and firing, dropping to the ground simultaneously as one more word escaped their mouths, some coming off as slurred, but it was all the same thing, "Oyasumi."

More gunshots rang out across almost the entire following block followed by either screams or sirens.

People have reported after this event occurred that most family members, witnesses, or people inside the club itself all killed themselves in the same fashion, the same bags with an almost incomprehensible assortment of words before placing a gun to their head and saying "Goodnight" in Japanese before ending their own lives, firing a bullet into their own heads. People said that it was only those who were related to the crime in some way or fashion, if someone was next to them and had not witnessed the event, or if someone was there and was not at a specific distance to the crime that was committed on that day, they were unaffected by this peculiar craze.

The police were completely at a loss when attempting to figure out why any of it happened in the first place. They checked security footage and could only find a random collection of people standing up with guns in their hands before massacring random civilians and gangsters on the spot with only one man surviving until, almost as if they were a hivemind, suddenly found him as if they could see the man through walls. This had happened multiple times.

After the collection of men and women stood up and had begun killing people, that one specific man made his way to a room at the back of the club to get a shotgun. He made his way out of the room before firing onto one of them and retreating into another room while under heavy fire. They decided to first take care of everyone else within the rest of the club before heading straight to the room he went into, and for added context, shouldn't have so easily found due to the extra rooms of the club being hidden behind a wall, yet they had guessed his location almost immediately. Even more, added on information, the only one that could've known was one young man who the other shot in the chest, opening their ribcage due to the shotgun fire.

The whole hivemind aspect was just a guess though anyway, they just didn't seem normal to how a normal human would react... almost as if under control by something, though, this is something that they could never confirm. What they could confirm though was that those men and women were most definitely in league with each other, which led to them believing that those who had killed themselves in the area might''ve also been in league with them as well, but there are also some suspicions regarding that as well even though there is such hard evidence proving this factor to be true.

Some people even suspect that this event was caused by none other than the Escravos themselves due to similar events happening around them.