Surviving The Last of Us With My System

"I'm telling you, I saw a couple break into this house," a voice whispered from the first floor. It was low, almost a whisper, but Elliot caught it perfectly.

"It's impossible. We haven't seen anyone around here in weeks," another voice replied, deeper, laden with skepticism.

"I don't know... but I'll take the woman," a third added, his tone laced with a lust that made Elliot's jaw clench.

"And the boy?"

"We kill him and eat him."

"Cannibals," Elliot thought, his mind sharpening like a blade.

The sound of light footsteps echoed from below, moving cautiously across the floorboards, but each creak was a reminder that they didn't have much time. Then, the bathroom door opened, and Mel stepped out, already dressed, but her face still relaxed, oblivious to the situation.

Elliot moved immediately, moving closer to her and covering her mouth gently with one hand. "Shh, there are people in the house," he whispered urgently, his tone low but firm. Releasing her carefully, he pointed to the other side of the bed, where his rifle lay. "Take the rifle and get ready."

Mel nodded, her face hardening as she complied. However, the simple motion of walking towards the gun caused a crunch under her feet, a treacherous sound that broke the silence of the room.

From below, the voices stopped abruptly.

"Did you hear that?" one asked, with a hint of excitement.

"Yes, those were footsteps," another answered, now with a higher pitch.

"Hello! Is there anyone there?" the first one shouted, approaching the foot of the stairs. "We're not here to hurt you… We just want to talk. It's been a long time since we've seen people around here!"

Elliot gritted his teeth, ignoring the words. It was an obvious ruse, and he wasn't going to fall for it. Meanwhile, Mel knelt behind the bed, resting the rifle on the mattress and aiming at the bedroom door with a tense but determined focus.

"They're looking for trouble," Elliot muttered as he bent down to pick up his knife and make sure the baseball bat was close at hand. His body felt stronger, faster. The skills he'd just unlocked vibrated in his muscles like a running engine. This was going to be his trial by fire.

From the hallway below, the creaking of footsteps ascending the stairs filled the air. "Come on, don't hide. I promise we don't mean anything bad... just talk," the voice insisted, closer now.

"Talk, of course," Elliot thought with a grimace as he took up position by the door, pressing himself against the wall. His knife gleamed dimly in the light filtering through the window.

"Ready?" Mel muttered, not taking his eyes off the target on the other side of the door.

"Always," he replied, with icy confidence.

Footsteps reached the landing, and voices grew clearer. "Brother, I told you, there's someone here. Look, this door's half open."

Another replied, "Let's go in. If there's someone, we'll find them."

Elliot took a deep breath, his muscles tensing as he calculated the perfect moment to strike. He wasn't going to wait for them to take the initiative. This was his turf, and he was going to make the rules.

With his new skills emerging like a fierce instinct, Elliot watched intently as the door handle moved slowly as someone on the other side cautiously tried to get in. He wouldn't give them that chance. In one fluid motion, his hand shot forward, gripping the wrist with a strength he didn't think he possessed.

"What the hell—?" the man on the other side managed to growl, but his scream was cut short as Elliot yanked him violently into the room. The force made him stumble and fall to his knees, completely helpless.

Without a moment's hesitation, Mel adjusted his aim and fired. The boom of the rifle echoed through the closed room, the direct impact on the intruder's chest knocking him to the ground like a sack of meat, dead before he could comprehend what had happened.

From the stairs, screams rose with a mix of fury and desperation.

"Sons of bitches! They killed Jack!" roared a harsh voice, laden with hate.

The rumble of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the air, but Elliot didn't falter. His body moved with a speed and precision that surprised even him. As the first attacker reached the landing, Elliot intercepted him with a brutal kick straight to the chest, sending him reeling backward. He didn't let the momentum go to waste: in a nimble twist, he lunged at him and plunged his knife deep into his neck, severing his windpipe with a wet, grotesque sound.

Blood gushed out as the man struggled to breathe, his hands grasping uselessly at the handle of the embedded knife. But Elliot didn't give him time to fall to the ground; with new, calculated strength, he used his body as a shield just as another of the intruders appeared on the landing, clutching a rusty pistol.

"Bastard!" the man screamed, a tall, lanky homeless man with a face covered in grime and a tattered vest that might once have been military. His bloodshot eyes locked on Elliot, filled with rage.

The man raised his gun, aiming directly at Elliot, but found the lifeless body of his partner in his path. The impact of the first shot made the corpse shudder against Elliot, who held it firmly as he backed into the room.

"You're going to pay for this, motherfucker!" the man roared as he tried to circle around the body to get a clear angle.

Elliot knew he couldn't give him time. His mind worked like a calculating machine, every move optimized for survival. He threw the corpse at the attacker with a grunt of effort, taking advantage of the second of distraction to lunge at him.

The homeless man backed away, but Elliot was already upon him, dodging a second shot that passed dangerously close to his side. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the man's wrist and wrenched his arm back with a sharp crack that made him cry out in pain.

"Mel!" Elliot screamed, but he didn't need to say more.

Mel, from his position in the room, adjusted the rifle and fired with deadly accuracy. The bullet found its mark in the man's skull, which fell to the floor like a dead weight, leaving Elliot panting and adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

He straightened up, wiping the blood from his hands as he turned to Mel.

"Nice shot," he said with a tired smile, though his gaze was still fierce, searching for any further movement in the shadows of the hallway.

Mel, taking a deep breath, nodded. "We're not done yet."

Elliot walked over to the nearest corpse, quickly checking his pockets for weapons or supplies. He found a box of bullets and a small but sharp knife that he tucked into his belt.

"More are coming," Mel said, raising the rifle and pointing it toward the stairs. From below, growls and screams of rage confirmed that the survivors had not given up their attempt to get in.

"Let them come," Elliot muttered, his dark eyes shining with a mixture of danger and determination. "We're going to give them the show of their miserable lives."

Elliot didn't have time to prepare himself much; footsteps and screams were already echoing up the stairs. Five more men, all armed with knives, clubs, and a worn-out shotgun, were rushing up, their eyes filled with rage and a palpable bloodlust.

"Sons of bitches, get out of there! We're going to pay for this!" shouted one of them, a short, stocky guy with a makeshift bat riddled with nails.

From his position, Mel aimed the rifle at the open door and fired, the echo of the shot filling the house. The bullet went through the wall next to one of the men's heads, causing him to recoil.

"Mel, cover the door!" Elliot growled, lunging into the hallway.

The first to reach the landing was the man with the bat, who swung it hard at Elliot's head. But Elliot, powered by the enhanced reflexes of his recent skill, dodged the blow by leaning to the side. The nail-ridden wood slammed into the wall, sending splinters flying.

"Get over here, you bastard!" the man shouted, but Elliot didn't give him time for a second attempt. With a quick, straight uppercut, his fist collided with the attacker's jaw, causing him to stumble backward.

The homeless man raised the bat again, but Elliot slipped inside his guard as if he had practiced the maneuver a thousand times. His elbow came up in a quick arc, connecting with the man's throat in a sharp blow that knocked the wind out of him.

"Shut the fuck up!" Elliot growled, grabbing him by the head and pushing him against the railing with a crash. The wood creaked, and the body fell heavily to the first floor, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

"Elliot, behind you!" Mel shouted from the room.

He turned just in time to see another man, this one wielding a rusty knife, lunge at him with a wild cry. Elliot raised his arm, blocking the attack with his forearm. The blade cut shallowly into his skin, but the pain only made him more aggressive.

"That's all you got, you fucking moron!" He roared, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it back.

The homeless man let out a scream of pain as the knife fell to the ground. Elliot kicked it towards Mel, who quickly picked it up and tucked it into his belt.

"I'm going to break your face!" the attacker screamed, but his words were cut off by a punch straight to the bridge of his nose. Elliot felt the bone crunch beneath his knuckles.

The man staggered back, holding his bloodied face. Elliot took advantage by delivering a front kick to his chest, sending him crashing into the wall with a thud. Before he could recover, Elliot lifted him up by the shirt and kneed him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"Stay on the ground, motherfucker," he spat, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

Another man appeared on the landing, this time with an old shotgun. He fired without thinking, and Elliot dove to the ground just in time to avoid the volley of pellets, which shattered the wall behind him.

"Mel, shoot him!" Elliot roared.

Mel didn't hesitate. He aimed the rifle and fired, but the man with the shotgun moved fast, dodging the shot and charging at them with a furious scream. Elliot rolled to the side, catching the barrel of the shotgun just as the attacker tried to aim at him again.

"Get off, you bastard!" the man screamed, struggling with all his might.

Elliot pushed the gun up, causing the shot to go into the ceiling, and then swung the barrel toward the attacker's chest. With a titanic effort, he pulled the trigger, and the roar filled the air. The man's body fell back, dead instantly.

"Where are the others?" Elliot gasped, looking at Mel.

"Two left," she replied, reloading the rifle.

The last two attackers appeared at the same time, one with a machete and the other with a rusty hammer. Elliot moved toward the one with the machete, leaving Mel to deal with the other.

The man swung the machete in a wide arc, but Elliot leaned to the side, the blade passing dangerously close to his head. He responded with a direct blow to the attacker's elbow, causing the arm to bend back at an unnatural angle.

"I'm going to gut you, you piece of shit!" the man growled, trying to keep control of the machete.

Elliot didn't give him a chance. In one swift movement, he grabbed the handle of the weapon and swung it towards the attacker, plunging it into his side. The man let out a piercing scream, falling to his knees as Elliot finished him off with a devastating punch to the skull.

Meanwhile, Mel shot the man with the hammer, his bullet impacting in his shoulder. Although the man dropped the hammer and stumbled backward, he didn't fall.

"Put your head down!" Elliot shouted, advancing towards the wounded man.

In one fluid movement, Elliot lunged at him, landing an uppercut that sent him reeling. Then, he grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him into the wall.

"You still wanna fuck with me?" Elliot growled, punching him again, this time in the jaw.

The man fell to the ground, unconscious. Elliot kicked him to make sure he wouldn't get up.

Silence filled the hallway, broken only by Elliot and Mel's gasps.

"Are we...?" Mel began, her voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah," Elliot said, wiping sweat from his brow. "We're okay... for now."

Bloody bodies lay strewn around them, a brutal reminder of how close they'd come to disaster.

"Fucking cannibals," Elliot muttered, checking the bodies for weapons and supplies. "They had no idea who they were fucking with."

Mel, hands still shaking and clutching the rifle like it was her lifeline, approached Elliot. Her gaze roamed over his bloodied form, a brutal contrast to the calm that seemed to emanate from him.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly, but laced with genuine concern.

Elliot looked up at her, letting out a long sigh as a small smile curved his lips. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, though his mind was still processing what had just happened.

He looked down at his hands covered in dried and fresh blood, a reminder of what he had just done. Never, not even in his past life, had he fought like this. The first time he had killed someone, he had almost ended up dead. A poor idiot who could barely defend himself had put him on the edge of the abyss. And now... now he had torn apart a group of men like he was a damn expert.

Satisfaction was an electric spark running through his body, but mixed with a strange sense of unreality. He knew that these skills weren't entirely his own, but a gift from the system. Still, the fact that he had protected Mel, that he had emerged victorious, gave him a pride he couldn't ignore.

"Fuck, it really works," he muttered to himself, his dark eyes scanning the bodies lying around.

Mel watched him silently, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to calm himself. There was something different about him. I knew Elliot wasn't exactly a fighter, not before. I'd seen him fail, stumble, even hesitate at the most critical moments. But this time...this time had been different.

She had seen him move with deadly precision, dominating men who would otherwise have easily outclassed him. And as much as fear filled her, there was something else, too. A warm, dangerous current running down her spine. Seeing him act like this, seeing him protect her with calculated brutality, made her desire for him flare in a way she had never felt before.

Elliot turned to her, his expression calmer now, though his eyes still glittered with adrenaline. "Let's see what useful things you have and get out of here," he said, his tone firm but relaxed.

Mel nodded, not saying anything as her eyes continued to study him. "Sure," she said at last, her voice barely a whisper.

She crouched down next to one of the bodies as Elliot did the same with another. In her mind, the images of the fight continued to play like a movie. She remembered every blow, every precise movement, and she couldn't help but feel impressed.

"Elliot," she said softly, after a moment of silence, as she checked one of the men's belts. "I didn't know you could do that."

Elliot let out a dry laugh as he pulled an old pistol from the body of one of the attackers. "Me neither," he confessed, lifting the gun to examine it. "I guess the end of the world forces us to learn fast."

Mel glanced at him sideways, a small smile playing on her lips. "Fast doesn't describe it. You looked like a damn predator."

Elliot shrugged, dropping the pistol into his backpack before looking at the remaining bodies. "There's no room for doubt in this world, Mel. Either they die, or we do."

She nodded, though her mind was elsewhere. Seeing him so calm, so confident, was a change she hadn't expected, but she couldn't deny that she liked it. There was something deeply appealing about that confidence, that ability to take control even in the worst of circumstances.

As they continued to sort through the bodies, Mel couldn't help but feel closer to him. Her desire to be with Elliot had intensified, but so had something deeper: a sense that he could actually keep her safe in this chaotic world.

"You're amazing, you know that?" she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Elliot looked up, arching an eyebrow as he set a bloody knife aside. "Where did that come from?"

Mel shrugged, her smile now more evident. "I don't know. I guess after seeing what you just did, it's hard not to think so."

Elliot shook his head, though he couldn't help but smile slightly. "It's nothing special, Mel. I just do what needs to be done."

"That's what's special," she replied, her words laden with meaning they both understood but neither wanted to explore at the moment.

Finally, after looting everything they could, they both stood up. Elliot carried the backpack loaded with weapons, ammo, and makeshift provisions. Mel adjusted the rifle on her shoulder, ready to move forward.

"Ready?" Elliot asked, looking at her.

Mel nodded, though her eyes remained fixed on him for a second longer. "As long as I'm with you, yes."

Elliot let out a huff as they both made their way towards the stairs. "Come on, I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary."

End of Chapter 14.