The undead king and his mate

The lab coat fluttered in the cool evening breeze as Penelope stepped outside, her heart racing. It had been a long day of research, but the break was worth it. The last vibrant hues of the setting sun painted the sky a fiery red, a stark contrast to the steel grey of the laboratory walls. She took a deep breath, savoring the sweet scent of the blooming flowers that had somehow survived the harsh city conditions.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sound of booted footsteps echoing down the alley. Panic shot through her as she recognized the heavy tread of the undead king's guards. Hastily, she retreated into the shadows, her eyes scanning the area for a place to hide. A rusty fire escape creaked under her weight as she climbed, the metal digging into her palms. She had to find a way to get back to the others before it was too late.

The guards grew closer, their moans a haunting melody in the quiet night. Penelope clung to the fire escape, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. One of them stopped below her, sniffing the air like a predator catching a scent. She held still, her heart hammering in her chest. The creature's cold, dead eyes scanned the area, and for a terrifying moment, she was certain it had found her. But then it moved on, joining the others in their search.

Her legs trembled with the effort of staying put, but she waited until the sound of their footsteps had faded into the distance. Only then did she allow herself to exhale and begin her descent. The metal groaned with each step, but she moved with the grace of a cat burglar, not wanting to draw any more unwanted attention. When she reached the bottom, she paused, listening intently for any sign that they had doubled back.

The alley remained silent, and she took off at a brisk pace, her mind racing. The king had made it clear that she was his, marked with his bite. If the guards found her, they would know she was the one who bore his mark. They would drag her back to his side, back to the gilded cage that was her new reality. Her thoughts were interrupted by the distant toll of a bell, signaling the beginning of the curfew. The undead grew more restless and dangerous as night deepened, and the humans who had survived the apocalypse knew better than to be caught outside the safety of their makeshift shelter.

Penelope's heart sank as she realized how much time had passed. She had to move quickly if she wanted to make it back before the horde grew too thick. She took a detour through a narrow alleyway, hoping it would be less traveled by both the undead and the guards. The walls closed in around her, the shadows deepening with each step. The stench of rotting garbage and the faint scent of decay filled her nostrils, a grim reminder of the world she now lived in.

As she reached the end of the alley, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, spinning her around. A guard, his eyes glowing with an unnatural hunger, leered at her. His teeth were stained with the blood of his last victim, and his breath reeked of decay. She tried to scream, but fear had stolen her voice. The creature's grip tightened, and she knew she was in trouble.

Above the guard's head, the flickering light from a distant streetlamp reflected off something shiny - a knife. Without hesitation, Penelope reached for the weapon, her hand slipping into the cold metal grip. The guard's eyes widened in surprise as she brought the blade down, burying it in his skull. He crumpled to the ground, his grip on her shoulder loosening. She stumbled back, breathless and shaking, the reality of what she had just done setting in.

Her heart raced as she listened for any sign of other guards, her eyes darting around the alley. The echoes of the tolling bell grew louder, and she knew she had to move fast. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she took a deep breath and continued her journey, the weight of the knife a comforting presence in her hand. The streets grew more treacherous as the night deepened, the shuffling of the undead growing closer with each passing minute.

Penelope's senses were on high alert, her instincts honed by months of survival in this post-apocalyptic world. The shadows danced with the flickering streetlights, creating a macabre ballet of the damned. She heard the distant howl of a feral dog and the low growl of an undead creature. She moved swiftly, her sneakers silent on the cracked pavement. The buildings around her whispered secrets of the lives that once filled them, now replaced by the echoes of the dead.

And then, amidst the cacophony of the night, she heard it. The king's bellowing voice, resonating through the streets like a war drum. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized he was searching for her. The guards had reported her escape, and now he knew she was out here, alone and vulnerable. His thunderous call sent chills down her spine, a stark reminder of his power and the fate that awaited her if she was recaptured.

Penelope's eyes darted around, searching for an escape route as the sound grew louder. Her chest tightened with each step she took away from the safety of the shelter, each breath echoing in her ears like a ticking clock counting down to her doom. The undead in the area grew agitated, drawn by the king's call, making her path even more perilous. She could feel his presence, a dark force that seemed to pulse through the very air around her.

Just as she thought she couldn't run any further, a firm hand clamped over her mouth and pulled her into the shadows of a nearby building. She tried to scream, to fight back, but the grip was too strong. Panic flooded her veins until she was pushed against a wall, and a warm body pressed against her, the smell of leather and something faintly metallic reaching her nose. A finger was placed gently against her lips, silencing her.

"Quiet," a gruff voice whispered in her ear. It was a human voice, not the guttural growl of the undead. She recognized the voice as one of the survivors from the lab, a man named Marcus. His eyes searched hers, a mix of concern and urgency. "You can't be out here now. The king's patrols are heavy tonight."

Marcus led her through the darkened building, their footsteps echoing in the emptiness. She nodded, still trembling from the close call. The building was a former office space, the remnants of cubicles and office chairs piled against the windows to barricade them from the outside world. The air was stale, a testament to the months of disuse, but it was a welcome reprieve from the horrors outside.

They moved quickly, using the flashlights on their belts to navigate the debris-strewn floor. Dust particles danced in the beams of light, highlighting the urgency of their escape. Marcus kept a hand on her arm, guiding her through the maze of the abandoned workplace. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent promise of protection in this unforgiving world.

"How did you find me?" she finally managed to ask, her voice a shaky whisper.

Marcus glanced at her, his expression a mix of relief and determination. "We've had a few close calls ourselves. The lab's security cameras are still operational, and we caught a glimpse of you climbing that fire escape. We've been tracking your movements, hoping to intercept you before the guards did." His words were a balm to her fear-stricken soul, a reminder that she wasn't entirely alone in this.

They reached the stairs, and he urged her to be quiet as they ascended. Each step creaked, the sound amplified in the tense silence. The building was eerie, a ghostly reminder of the lives that had once filled it with purpose and activity. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting erratic shadows that danced on the walls like malevolent spirits.

"We've been watching the cameras," Marcus murmured as they climbed. "The king's guards are programmed to ignore us, but we had to be careful. The last thing we needed was to lead them back to the shelter."

Penelope nodded, her thoughts racing. If the guards had found her, it would have spelled disaster for everyone. The king had made it clear that any who dared to harbor his marked mate would suffer his wrath. She couldn't let that happen to her newfound family.

"Why should they ignore you?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her fear.

Marcus's expression grew serious as they reached the top floor. "We've painted ourselves as insignificant. The king sees us as ants, not worth his time unless we pose a direct threat. We keep our heads down, we stay in the shadows, and we survive. That's our way of fighting back, Penelope. You being out here, especially with that mark..." He trailed off, his gaze lingering on the bite scar on her neck. "It's like waving a red flag in front of a bull."

For a moment, Penelope had forgotten about the bite mark. She reached up to cover it with her hand, her fingers brushing against the puckered skin. The king's claim on her was a stark reality that she had tried to ignore, but now it felt like a neon sign broadcasting her location to every creature of the night. She swallowed hard, her hand shaking slightly. "What do we do now?"

Marcus studied her for a moment before speaking. "We get you back to the shelter. It's not safe for you out here, especially with that... souvenir." His voice was tight with tension, his eyes never leaving hers. "But we can't stay here. The guards are getting closer."