Into the Apocalypse: Saving My Favorite Villain-Chapter 125: The Escape

I suddenly felt a crushing, excruciating pain seize my heart—as if invisible hands had slipped through my ribs, wrapped around it, and were now squeezing with merciless, deliberate force.

My breath caught mid-inhale.

The world tilted.

A violent tremor ran through my body, starting from my chest and rippling outward until even my fingertips quivered uncontrollably.

For a moment, I couldn’t even think.

Only feel.

Only endure.

This pain... it wasn’t new.

That was the most terrifying part.

I had felt it before—twice.

Both times, I had pushed my ability past its limits. Both times, it had been to save them.

To save Henry.

To save Matthew.

Back then, the agony had come with purpose. It had been the price of something I chose.

But now?

Why now...?

I hadn’t used my power.

Not even a trace of it.

So what the hell was happening to me?

The pain surged again, sharper this time—like claws dragging across the surface of my heart. My vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in like a living thing threatening to swallow me whole.

Still, I clenched my teeth.

Hard enough that I tasted blood.

No sound escaped me.

No scream. No gasp. Not even a whimper.

I couldn’t afford it.

Not here.

Not in this car.

Not surrounded by these people.

Not when I was so close to escaping.

Time lost all meaning. Seconds stretched into eternity, each heartbeat a fresh wave of agony threatening to break me apart from the inside. Cold sweat soaked through my clothes, clinging to my skin like ice.

My fingers dug into my abdomen, nails biting through fabric, pressing hard—harder—as if I could anchor myself to reality through sheer pain alone.

I knew I was hurting myself.

I knew it would leave bruises, maybe even blood.

I didn’t care.

Anything was better than losing control.

Anything was better than screaming.

Then, slowly...

Gradually...

The worst of it began to recede.

Not gone—but dulled.

Fading into something distant, something bearable.

Like an echo instead of a scream.

I dragged in a shaky breath, my lungs burning as if I had been drowning.

And then—

"Hey, girl... are you alright? Why are you shaking?"

Damn it.

My eyes snapped open.

I forced my expression into something cold.

Detached.

Untouchable.

Even as my body betrayed me, I wrapped my voice in sharp arrogance like armor.

"If you’re so concerned about my health," I said, my tone steady despite the lingering tremor in my chest, "you’d do better to return me to Cassel."

A scoff came from the front seat.

"Boss," one of them sneered, his voice thick with irritation, "let me teach this little bitch a lesson."

From the corner of my eye, I saw the boss exhale slowly.

He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, as if already tired of the situation, before casting a cold, warning glance at the man who spoke.

And then—

Everything shattered.

There was no warning.

No time to react.

One moment, the car was moving.

The next—

My world flipped.

Literally.

My head spun violently as gravity seemed to lose all meaning.

The car lurched, lifted, and then overturned.

Metal screamed.

Glass shattered.

My body was thrown sideways, then upward, then slammed down again as the vehicle rolled through the air.

Once.

Twice.

Again—

Before crashing down with a deafening, bone-rattling impact.

"Hiss—!"

A sharp breath tore from my throat.

Just moments ago, the pain had been internal, suffocating, invisible.

Now, it was everywhere.

Every inch of my body screamed.

My shoulder throbbed where it had struck the door.

My ribs ached with each breath.

Something warm trickled down my temple—blood, probably.

For a brief second, all I could do was lie there, dazed, listening to the ringing in my ears.

Damn it...

Is there something written on my forehead like "made to suffer"?

Some curse that marks me for suffering?

Why is it always me?

Why does everything go wrong?

All I want...

All I’ve ever wanted...

...is to go back to my Cassel and live quietly.

Is that really so impossible?

Fury burned through me, hot and sharp, cutting through the haze of pain.

"Shit, Boss! Zombies—there’s a zombie! A strong one! I didn’t even see how it flipped the car!"

The driver’s voice broke through the chaos, high with panic, his words tumbling over each other in a desperate rush.

"Shut up!" the boss barked. "Get out of the car! Now! Move before that thing comes back!"

Comes back?

My mind sharpened instantly.

Despite the wreck, despite the pain, I forced myself to focus.

After the crash, they scrambled, scanning the surroundings.

But there was nothing.

No towering figure.

No monstrous presence.

No sign of the thing that had overturned the car like it was nothing more than a toy.

Only silence...

And in the distance—

Movement.

A small group of zombies, drawn by the scent of blood, is staggering toward us.

Slow.

Relentless.

Hungry.

My eyes lit up.

In an instant, everything else disappeared.

Pain.

Fear.

Confusion.

A single, blinding thought swept away all of it.

This is my chance.

If I lose it...

I might never get another.

Before doubt could take root, I moved.

I shoved the door beside me with all the strength I had left.

It creaked, resisted—and then gave way.

Luck was finally on my side.

The boss, who had been sitting next to me, was pinned awkwardly against the crushed roof.

Blood soaked his clothes, pooling beneath him.

His movements were sluggish, uncoordinated.

He couldn’t stop me.

Just as I expected.

Before he could even react, I slipped past him, dragging myself out of the wreckage.

"Catch her! Don’t let her escape! Move—move!"

Their shouts rang out behind me.

I didn’t look back.

The moment my feet hit the ground, I forced my trembling legs to move.

Then faster.

Then faster still.

I ran.

I ran like my life depended on it.

Because it did.

Ahead of me, the zombies drew closer.

Their decayed bodies lurched forward, their hollow eyes locking onto the source of fresh blood.

Grotesque.

Terrifying.

And yet—

For the first time since I arrived in this cursed world...

I felt relieved to see them.

Without hesitation, I plunged straight into their midst.

Rotting hands reached for me.

Jawbones snapped inches from my skin.

The stench of decay filled my lungs.

And yet—

Standing there, surrounded by the dead...

I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Safety.

Only then did I turn back.

As expected, the car I had escaped lay overturned in the distance, its frame twisted beyond recognition.

The second vehicle behind it was no better off, as if some invisible force had crushed it with overwhelming strength.

The men were still alive.

Barely.

Wounded, bleeding, stumbling—

But moving.

Toward me.

No—

Toward survival.

They hacked and shoved their way through the growing swarm, desperate, frantic.

As if the undead would ever ignore such a feast.

My gaze met the boss’s.

Even drenched in blood, even barely standing, he was still alive.

Impressive.

But his eyes...

They were no longer calm.

No longer calculating.

They were filled with shock.

Disbelief.

And something deeper—

Something that bordered on fear.

I said nothing.

I watched.

Because in this world...

The most terrifying thing isn’t a single zombie.

Even a child could handle one—if they kept their head.

No.

What’s truly terrifying...

Is the number.

Zombies are drawn to blood.

To sound.

To struggle.

And once it begins—

It never stops.

More came.

Then more.

What had started as a small group quickly grew into a tide.

A wave of rotting flesh and gnashing teeth.

An army.

That was why I stood still.

Why didn’t I run?

Why I watched them, one by one, struggle... fail... and fall.

"You—you! Stop them!" the young leader shouted, his voice cracking as his eyes locked onto me.

Did he think I could control them?

Just because I stood among them?

And even if I could...

Why would I stop?

After everything?

Did they really take me for some kind of saint?

A heroine who saves even those who would cage her?

Heh...

Am not Mary.

A slow smile spread across my lips.

Dark.

Crooked.

Unfamiliar, even to me.

Perhaps it unsettled him.

Or perhaps the boss simply had no time to care, too busy fighting for his life.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t run.

Because before I go...

Before I returned to Cassel...

There was something I needed to do.

My gaze drifted across the chaos—

Past the dying.

Past the desperate.

Until it settled... on him.

Then, slowly...

I began to search.

For something very specific.

Something to use.

---

To Be Continued...