Number 7

Ring!

The bell which signaled the entrance of a customer rang as numerous zombies found their attention focused on the front door of a casino.

As if he were entering a high class facility, the gray haired gentleman strode into the casino with style - a beretta in his hand as he slid out his weapon with grace.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

However, without hesitation, three shots were fired.

One who was formerly a barista, another who was manning a roulette table, and a third who was likely a junkie hanging over the slot machine.

Each found their innards on the outside of their bodies as they fell to the ground in a bloody mess.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Yet the onslaught of bullets did not stop at this.

Moving gracefully into the facility as he ducked and dashed about, the man seemed to evade any and all confrontation with the undead as he pinpointed them one after another from range.

Bang! Bang! Ratatatata!

Sliding over a card table, the man pulled out a second gun - this one an uzi - which he let rip as he jumped off the table.

Yet the bullets were not fired randomly, as they hit each of the players at the table, followed by the dealer as all of them fell forwards, their heads filled with lead and the cards which they held now dyed crimson.

The man landed with grace before firing yet another bullet directly behind him without even looking, taking out a straggler - a zombified man who had once been spying on the opponents hands and revealing that information to his partner.

The man then continued forward, walking through a series of mahjong tables as the zombies struggled to stand up, though they seemed to have a difficult time sliding their chairs out from underneath the tables.

And Yakov did not allow this weakness to go unpunished.

Reaching into his coat, the man pulled out a magazine as he reloaded within a mere moment, immediately firing once again without so much as appearing to be strained.

The bullets were fired from his pistol almost as fast as a machine gun, and one might not have been able to hear the difference unless they were to witness the scene for themselves - yet even though these bullets were fired with such immense speed, not a single one of them missed their marks.

The man looked around to see that not a single zombie had been able to figure out how to slide their chair out before he had laid waste to them.

Their heads having fallen forwards, the clacking of the tiles could be heard as many fell onto the ground as a result of the disturbance.

"Quite a mess, isn't it? Some of these customers just don't know how to clean up after themselves.", the man chuckled.

Blowing off the gunsmoke from his weapons, the man sheathed them after reloading, looking around as he ensured that no more zombies were present.

"Well, I suppose that is my duty. I am but a mere janitor, after all."

Heading back towards the entrance, the man returned as he strode through the bloody mess, not a single scratch on him despite the dozens of undead which had been slain in mere moments.

"And I will clean up any messes that our customers create."

Ring!

Stepping outside of the casino for a moment, the man came face to face with the five former clients, who were awestruck at his immense physical abilities, unable to so much as say a word in response.

"What could be the matter now? Has something happened in the time I was gone to make you all so filled with shock?"

The man jokingly pressed the people, lifting up his hand as he raised just two fingers, his index and middle finger.

Beckoning with these two for the five to follow him, the man once more entered the casino as the door slowly closed behind him.

"Cleaning after someone is not just work for a mere slave. It is a profession which requires dedication... skill... and most importantly... resolve."

With these words, the five reluctantly stepped forward, entering the casino so as to not be left behind in an unknown place without weapons or protection.

Despite their clear spite towards the man who ordered them around and blackmailed them, he provided protection in a world that was filled with monsters and death.

Therefore leaving his side was not an option.

Heading towards a door at the back of the casino, the man took out a golden key as he approached the employee facility, grinning all the while as his tone lowered in condescendance.

"If even this is enough to surprise you... then you are not even fit to take out the trash."

----

"There are plenty of weapons and ammunition. Fully automatic rifles, sub machine guns, sniper rifles, shotguns, combat knives, pistols, explosives, take your pick."

Yakov had led the group of five to a supply room in the back of the casino - one which no client would ever have known existed.

"There are even rocket launchers if you wish... however carrying such a thing around would likely be quite the burden on mere civilians such as yourselves."

The word civilian seemed to irk the people present, however they were in no position to complain as they scrambled to arm themselves.

Grabbing whatever weapons they could get their hands on without much concern for their own capabilities, some recklessly tried to carry things which were far too heavy for them before eventually settling on some of the lighter weapons.

"They are quite heavy, are they not? Most would underestimate just how much a gun actually weighs - but it isn't a simple task to carry around all day. Take this into consideration when selecting your weapons."

"I'm sick of hearing you condescend on us like this."

Holding forth a pistol, the middle aged man who had been mocked for his zoophilia pointed his weapon at the older gentleman with a deadly tone.

"You all think you have control, but you're dumb enough to let us get into the weapons? I don't know if you were planning on having us fight for you, but I for one have no intention of fighting for anyone but myself."

"Do you plan on firing?"

Even as the weapon was pointed at him, the older gentleman's smile seemed to creep upwards as he was completely unphased by such a thing.

"If... if you don't let us go, then I will. I'm going to leave this place, and I'm going to-"

"What are you going to do? Who will you go to? Do tell. Ah... let me guess."

Holding up a finger, the man known as Yakov slowly approached the one known as Senator Baracus, who held the pistol with shaking hands as he was approached so recklessly.

"You believe that your people from your nation are still alive and willing to support you?"

With a laugh, the man clicked his tongue as he shook his head in disappointment.

"I believe that to assume anyone has been left alive in this ruined world would be nothing more than naive optimism."

"I'll shoot! I really will! Don't take a step closer-"

"Then do so."

Click.

The man pulled the trigger at this provocation, sweat rolling down his forehead as a clicking noise resounded in his ears.

"But even if you have the resolve to pull the trigger, that means nothing if you don't know how to undo the safety."

Grabbing the weapon from the defeated man, Yakov undid the safety as he slowly placed it back in the hand of the aggressor - whose eyes widened at this insane behavior.

"I just... I just shot at you... and you have the balls to give me back the weapon?", he whispered.

'It's... as if he has no fear-'

"As if I would be concerned about a mere amateur who doesn't even know how to hold a weapon. You may have ordered deaths before with your mouth... but that is the difference between us."

At that moment, a chill went down the spine of the man as the one known as Yakov seemed to overbear upon them an immense pressure the likes of which they could not describe with mere words.

"You kill from afar... while someone else pulls the trigger. I on the other hand... AM the one to pull the trigger."

Folding his hands behind his back as he took careful steps, the man began to pace as he spoke to the five, not so much as concerned with the fact that they had the ability to kill him should they desire.

"To all present here... listen carefully. There are numerous other rooms within this facility that have yet to be cleared. However, you all do not seem to desire to obey us, much less work for us. Therefore... I will make you all a deal."

Stopping in his tracks as he stood before a wall filled with weapons, the man seemed to gaze upon it with pride.

"I intend on using the five of you as scouts outside each entrance to this hotel to gather information about our surroundings. How about this? We will play a short game - and should you five win this game, I will turn a blind eye if you wish to attempt an escape from the positions which you are assigned. However, should you lose this game... then I will slaughter anyone who attempts to escape."

"Game? What kind of stupid game-"

One woman shouted out with indignance, however her words were cut off at the deadly glare which she received from the man.

"There are roughly twenty rooms within this hotel which are likely infested with the undead. The pool, the lounge, the kitchen, the gymnasium, the restaurant, the library, the movie theater, the auditorium, the bar, the computer lab, the restrooms, and numerous others."

The man listed off one after another, seemingly drawing a map in his mind as he spoke.

"You all will take... the restaurant. The five of you will head to that place, and you will eliminate the undead present. This will likely include customers, waiters, and even the kitchen staff such as the chefs, the busboys, and whoever else has fallen prey to this virus."

"Hah!?", one man shouted. "Why would we do your dirty work-"

"And while you are doing that - I will clear every single other room in this hotel."

With this statement, the man silenced all.

"Whoever finishes first wins."

And with this proposal, clearly in the favor of the five, they all looked to one another with shock - and then with irritation.

'He thinks he's so much better than us...'

'He's mocking us...'

'He thinks that the five of us can't clear a couple rooms in the time it takes him to clear almost 20!?'

'Who the hell does he think he is?'

"Fine then! I'll accept."

"I agree."

"We will finish before you."

The five seemed to all nod in agreement, coming to this conclusion - however as they did so a devilish grin came across the face of the gentleman.

"Is that so? Very well then... since you've all agreed, I suppose the contract is in place. On my word as a Janitor then... I can assure you that the conditions which have been set forth will be fulfilled. Of course, I'm sure you understand that a written agreement would serve no purpose... so you will have to take my word as it is."

Stepping forward, the man opened the door as he motioned for the group to head out before him.

"I will even give you all a head start."

The five looked to one another, slightly irritated at the man's display of suspicious courteousness, however there was no time to question such things.

They marched out of the room without hesitation, headed to their destination with weapons in hand.

The door shut, and the man was left alone in the dark room, closing his eyes as he began to pace back and forth, counting aloud.

"One... two... three..."

He slowly counted, as if playing hide and seek, waiting patiently without skipping a beat.

"Ten... eleven... twelve..."

Without a care in the world, the man continued his counting, waiting ever so patiently as if to purposely ensure that his opponents would make significant progress before he even began.

"Fifteen... sixteen... seventeen..."

And as he reached the end of the sequence, his words became slower.

He took out all the weapons he had on him, completely disarming himself.

"Eighteen."

One by one, he dropped everything, from pistols to SMGs to magazines to explosives, emptying his pockets and his back until he was unarmed.

"Ninteen."

And once he had finished, he stepped towards the door, standing in front of it with a smile.

"Twenty."

Grabbing the handle, the man thrusted it open as he called out this final number.

"Ready or not... here I come."

And in that instant, he disappeared into the wind.

"It's time to clean up this mess."

----

'I wonder which one is which... well, I know that the Senator from Koravik is the Zoophile, and I would be the Pedophile... so what does that make the other three?'

A woman who was dressed in an elegant suit glanced around her, curiosity evident in her expression.

'Necrophile... Mutilator... and Sadist. Those were the other three that Yakov mentioned. So which one is which?'

Studying the people with interest, the five rushed towards the restaurant which they had been ordered to clear.

'That one... he looks violent. I would say he is likely the sadist... but maybe he would be the mutilator? What about the other woman? Perhaps she is the necrophile?'

This particular woman was Countess Mira Solaris of the City State of Solaris in Vorathia.

As an alliance of various City States which had banded together in order to survive, Vorathia was one of the five great nations of the world. And this woman, who gazed upon the others as she tried to gage their sins, was the leader of one of those cities.

'Well, either way... they are nothing like me.'

As the group rushed towards the restaurant, the woman slid out the weapon she had selected - a pistol so small that even a child could wield it.

'They are only here to fulfill their disgusting desires... but I on the other hand... am merely looking for true... innocent... pure love.'

"Listen up. None of you here may have ever fought a battle, but I have. And I can tell you one thing. Soldiers who don't listen to orders die."

One tall man, who was dressed in formal military attire, spoke up with dedication in his tone, a large semi automatic rifle in his hands.

"Therefore on my pride as a soldier... I will be taking control of you four for this operation. Is that understood?"

"Who the hell do you think you are to take control of us, Capitalist pig?"

However another man, this one well built and wearing a particular beret, seemed to disagree with such a notion.

"Are you really going to cause a problem with me about that right now, communist scum?"

"Hah!? We are on the side of justice, you know. We serve the people, but what of you? You step on the people in order to rise to the top."

"Your kind certainly loves always talking about the people. The people this, the people that. But at the end of the day, your people are suffering more than ours ever do - because of your very doctrine that is supposed to benefit them."

Sparks flew as the two men - both of whom were wielding heavy rifles - seemed to press against one another as they stood in front of the restaurant door.

"Do you even have restaurants like this in your country? Unlikely - given that you barely have any food in the first place."

"Do you enjoy living lavishly off the backs of everyone else, gloating about your luxuries while someone else slaves to provide it?"

"But are elites like you any different?"

"I would hate to interrupt your major moral clash, but shouldn't we be getting on with this?"

Speaking up was the remaining woman, and her tone carried a deadliness within it that was enough to stop the two men from their squabble in an instant.

She carried no firearm - instead this woman carried three knives in each hand - and she stepped right into the midst of the two without hesitation.

Opening the door, she was met with the groaning of several zombies - only proving that the place was busy with customers at the time of the calamity.

Thunk! Slice! Splat!

One after another, the woman threw knife after knife as an entire family of zombies were slain in a matter of moments, at which the woman stepped outside of the restaurant - numerous undead rushing towards the entrance where the group was.

"I used up all my knives but this one, and I would prefer not to throw it away for now. Please shoot the rest with those big guns that you two both lugged here."

At that instant, faced with the onslaught of groaning undead, the two turned to face their weapons inside the building as they let off a flurry of fire.

Ratatatatatatat!

One after another, rounds left the weapons as the undead were mowed down in a line - mostly customers which were exiting their booths in order to attack the group or waiters who had been serving at the time of the calamity.

"I'll need to reload soon! Zoophile, throw me your weapon!"

"No, no, animal fucker. Throw ME your weapon."

"Don't listen to him, creature craver. Hand it to me before this commie misses half his shots and leaves us facing a horde without any loaded ammo!"

"Don't listen to this fool, beast fetishizer. He just wants to hog all the weapons to himself."

The communist and the capitalist continued to fire into the crowd while shouting towards Senator Baracus, whose irritation grew along with the veins on his forehead with every word that the two said.

"Well?"

"Which side are you going to take?"

"You can't stay neutral forever, you know."

"Unlike your nation."

Ratatatatatatatatatatatata!

Silencing both of the men, a rain of bullets was sprayed directly in between them - heading straight through and aimed at the line of undead that were approaching.

The SMG which the Senator had been carrying smoked with heat as he panted with irritation and embarrassment, shouting out in his own rage.

"Will you all shut the hell up!?!?"

Huffing and heaving, the man looked forward to see that the corridor had been cleared for now, and that only a few stragglers were remaining - at which the Countess Mira stepped forward, pistol in hand.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

And with three shots, she finished off the few who were remaining, leaving only those who were in the kitchen.

"Animal fucker... zoophile... I don't want to hear such things from you heartless people who care nothing about anyone but yourselves."

As if he had blown a fuse following everything that had happened, the man fiddled with the weapons as he tried to figure out how to reload it.

"Animals are precious... kind... loyal... but humans are nothing more than power hungry liars."

"PFFT! Hahaha! Is this guy for real? That's how you're going to justify your hobby!? Ahahaha!!!!"

However the Countess couldn't help but to grip her sides in laughter.

"Oh... oh, that's rich. Trust me, I kinda get it - I do. To an extent. But to think that you'd go as far as to pursue something that isn't human... hah..."

"What would you know?"

"Hey. I would hate to interrupt AGAIN, but we have the kitchen still to clean up. I just so happen to be a Dutchess back in my home country, so I would say that fighting on the front lines like this is not exactly my forte, but I have a good amount of experience in dealing with... attackers. So could we please get on with this so that we can free ourselves from Yakov and those Street Rats?"

Speaking up once more was the woman who dealt with the knives, who seemed to step into the restaurant with annoyance, heading over to the family that she had killed as she removed the knives she had thrown from their heads.

"Yes, I suppose that would be quite a blunder, to waste time arguing like you have."

"I guess that's right."

"Tch... fine then. Let's get this done- wait."

"Huh?"

"AH!"

It was at that moment that all five looked back to see that the man who had spoken was none other than the older gentleman, and he was standing there with a rain of blood completely covering him.

"Don't tell me... in that little amount of time...."

"Oh come now. I even gave you all such a grand head start, and I see that you've at least completed your job here in the dining area... but to think that you would only be able to clean this much in the time it took me to finish the entire remainder of this hotel..."

Stepping into the room as he gazed around him with a sly grin, the self proclaimed janitor clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"I would have to give you points for the quality of the work that you have done... but an unfinished job is an unfinished job. To leave even a single stain on something means that you have failed in cleaning it. No?"

As he walked towards the kitchen entrance, the man seemed to chuckle as he finished his survey of the situation.

"Therefore... you all have failed in your roles as janitors... and it looks like I will have to pick up the slack."

And with these words, the people present soon were filled with despair - for they realized that this man was not joking or bluffing.

He truly had eliminated every enemy in the entire building in the mere moments that they had taken to mow down the group in this place.

'He... isn't human.'

'Did the mafia in Stronvardia really have such monsters present in it?'

'Even on the battlefield... it's rare to meet someone on this level.'

Shock and awe couldn't begin to describe the emotions that raged within the group, however the man did not let up in his assessment as he opened the kitchen door to continue his work.

"I will not allow you to leave this place so simply after such a pathetic display, you know. You can try to run if you wish... but all that will await you is a painful and ruthless death."