[Starving] Greg takes over

The days blurred together, an endless stretch of hunger gnawing at their stomachs and sapping their strength. The once lively house had fallen silent, the occasional groans of the undead outside becoming a distant backdrop to their suffering. The food was gone. Every last crumb. Even the scraps they had rationed to survive the week were long consumed, leaving the four of them to linger in the grip of starvation.

Noah sat in the corner of the living room, his body trembling from weakness. His once broad shoulders were hunched, his clothes hanging looser than they had days ago. Olivia lay on the couch, her skin pale, her breathing shallow. Eunhwa was perched by the window, her silver curls tangled and lifeless, her usual energy extinguished. Greg, however, still seemed strong—too strong.

"Y’all really thought we could survive on nothing," Greg said, breaking the tense silence. He leaned against the wall, his shotgun slung casually over his shoulder, his gaze flicking from one of them to the next. "I warned you this would happen. I told you."

“We’ll find something tomorrow,” Noah rasped, his voice hollow, lacking its usual strength. “We just need time.”

Greg laughed darkly, shaking his head. “Time? You’re out of time, Turner. You’re all too weak to even leave this damn house, let alone find anything out there.”

“What are you saying?” Olivia asked weakly, her voice barely a whisper.

Greg knelt down beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a tenderness that made Noah’s blood boil. “I’m saying I’m the only one keeping us alive now. I’ve been hunting, pulling in food, while you three sit here wasting away. But why should I keep sharing with you?”

Noah **** himself upright, clutching the edge of the wall for support. “You can’t do this, Greg. We’re a group. We’re supposed to survive together.”

Greg stood, looming over Noah like a predator over its prey. “You’re not in charge anymore, Turner. I am. And if you want to eat—if any of you want to eat—you’ll do what I say.”

Eunhwa’s voice broke the tension, trembling but defiant. “You can’t just… treat us like this. We’re not your slaves.”

Greg smirked, pacing the room like a man who had already won. “Aren’t you? Look around. You can’t stand without falling over. You’re nothing without me. So here’s how it’s gonna work: you listen to me, you follow my orders, and I’ll bring back food. Refuse, and you starve.”

Noah’s fists clenched, his knuckles white despite his feeble state. “You’re a monster.”

“No,” Greg replied coldly. “I’m a survivor.”

[Enslaved by Greg Ending]