Charlotte froze at the sight of the undead creature. She moved not a single muscle as she watched, rightly terrified, as the thing shook itself, tossing its cracked, bald head from side to side. She kept still even as it turned to face her, a horrendously long black tongue sliding out of its mouth to wet its wrinkled blue skin.

“Charlotte!” PHAT quipped. “You have encountered your first Naid! Hurry up and purge the blight!”

The Naid, as it was supposedly called, charged the fear-stricken girl. She squealed in terror, dropped her bat, and scrambled backward. Her hasty retreat ended abruptly her boot caught on the robe she had tossed on the ground and she slipped, falling unceremoniously onto the floor.

She cried out as she fell on her back, the back of her skull striking the cabin floor with a loud thunk. In the time it took her to make an absolute fool of herself, the zombie had crossed the short distance between them and pounced on her.

Charlotte screamed again, her right arm coming up to block the salivating mouth trying to take a chunk out of her face. Instead, the zombie bit down on her arm, its rotten teeth cutting into the fabric of her uniform and sinking into the soft, tender skin beneath it.

With a shriek, Charlotte flexed her arm and pushed the zombie up and off of her chest. It scratched at her bosom, its dirty claws tearing her uniform once more. Using all of her might, she swung the zombie onto the floor next to her. The impact jarred the creature, loosening its teeth in her arm.

Charlotte ripped her arm out of its mouth, which she regretted shortly when parts of it came away in the zombie’s maw. Not to mention the pain. The attached skin that wasn’t hanging loosely off her mangled limb burned; the creature’s saliva bubbled inside the wound, creating a disturbing hissing noise.

Oh, my gosh, she thought, staring down at her arm. I just got bit by a zombie. Oh…Oh, God, I’m gonna turn into a freaking zombie!

A warning growl snapped her back to her senses and her brain had enough intelligence to make her punch the lunging zombie in the face. She screamed, again, as the pain in her arm doubled after the hit.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought, struggling to get back to her feet. Why the hell would you use your injured arm to punch a friggin’ zombie!

She defended herself as she grabbed her bat one-handed and dragged it away from the zombie. I was in a panic! It was coming at me―what was I supposed to do?

Use your left arm, you dolt!

“Charlotte now is the worst time for you to be having an inner battle against yourself,” PHAT interrupted. “You have been gravely injured by the Naid; you must kill it and purge its infection from your body before it consumes you.”

“I-I’m gonna get consumed?”

“Focus, Charlotte!”

Groaning, she raised her bat. Her arm shook as what little muscle she had in her arm lifted the weapon into the air and onto her shoulder. Nearly keeling over under the weight, she managed to right herself before taking slow, labored steps toward the zombie.

The monster growled at her as she came near, sitting back on its heels as it bared its teeth. With a sudden burst of speed, it launched off of the floor. Charlotte, realizing she wouldn’t be able to dodge in time, had the bright idea to spin around so as to hit the zombie with the bat. Luck was with her as, despite the cumbersome weight of her weapon, she spun fast enough so that the metal ring just under the top of the bat smacked into the zombie’s head.

It let out something resembling a squeal and dropped to the ground a little ways away.

Having completed her spin, Charlotte stumbled over to the bleeding zombie and shrugged the bat off of her shoulder, aiming the top of it at the creature’s head. It landed with a disturbing yet strangely satisfying splorch.

With the death of her first Naid came a short but enticing rush of energy in her core area. Charlotte released the bat’s handle and put her hand on her stomach, rubbing it gently.

“Whoa,” she muttered. “What was that, PHAT?”

The ever-helpful robot piped up not a second later, answering her question with cheerful gusto. “You just absorbed the anima from Naid Strain #1! They don’t hold much, but it should be enough for you to stop the spread of infection! Speaking of which, you might want to get on that right away.”

That was right; the zombie―or Naid Strain #1, as PHAT called it―had bitten her. In the final moments of the battle, the pain had died down enough to let her focus on fighting. Now that she was finally safe, it came back with a mind-numbing vengeance.

Charlotte gritted her teeth and looked down at her arm. Her stomach gurgled at the sight of the oozing mess around the bite wound and, coupled with the stench of the dead zombie at her feet, she was forced to look away before she hurled.

“H-how long do I have, PHAT?”

“About forty minutes before the infection spreads to your brain. You’re lucky this wasn’t a higher strain; you would’ve been turned before you even finished fighting! Well, you were really lucky you even won against this thing. I don’t think you’d survive against a higher strain.

“Honestly,” the voice continued, “you exhibited a poor fighting technique. Dropping your weapon at the first sight of the Naid? Horrible conduct. Not to mention you walking up to it like you did, planting your feet not two inches away from its mouth. You’re lucky it was dazed from the hit, else it would’ve-“

“PHAT!” Charlotte interrupted. “Lecture me later; tell me how to not turn into a zombie now!”

“It’s not a zombie,” it muttered. “It’s a parasite that-“

“PHAT.“

“Sorry. You need to take hold of your anima and guide it toward the infection. When it achieves contact with the parasite, you’ll need to block it from spreading further into your body and maintain the blockage until you can get yourself a cure.”

Charlotte pushed at her core, an action that came a little easier now that she’d had practice, and tried to guide it toward her arm. The pain made it hard to concentrate, not to mention the fact that she’d failed to properly guide it where she wanted it to go when she’d first tried it. But the desperation to not become the disgusting creature on the floor only steeled her determination.

She wrangled the stubborn anima under her control, stopping it from slipping away to wherever it disappeared toward in her body. Her energy burned hotter in her stomach as she tried to force it to listen to her, growing to uncomfortable temperatures the longer it fought against her.

PHAT spoke up softly from her mind, nearly ruining her concentration. “You might want to try a different process. Brute force never works the way you want it to.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, clamping down hard on the unruly anima. The heat was intense but she eventually managed to wrestle it under her control. She forced the anima to flow toward her arm and set about blocking the spread of the infection from passing further up her bicep. Following PHAT’s instruction, she created a rudimentary wall of anima.

“Okay,” she said, “what do I do now?”

“We must scour the surrounding land for the ingredients of Restoration Brew #12!”

“What? You’re telling me that I might turn into a zombie if this thing spreads through the rest of my body and you’re telling me to go on a freaking treasure hunt for ingredients? If anima is this supposed gift from the ‘makers’, why can’t it cure me?”

“Anima isn’t suited for healing paladins, Charlotte. It is used to assist you in the battle against the Naid. You should be grateful that-“

“Grateful for what?” Charlotte seethed, her outrage nearly making her lose control of her anima. “This stuff is useless!”

PHAT was quiet for a moment before it spoke in a decidedly-less cheerful voice, “I would not be so quick to scoff at the Makers’ gifts, Charlotte. Any further disrespect will not be tolerated.”

Despite her better judgment or lack thereof, she decided to taunt the robot further. “Or what? You’re gonna sic another octopus on me?”

PHAT didn’t deign to give her a response. Instead, she heard familiar growls from outside the cabin.