"Is this the body?"
The question hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the usual bustle of the investigation room. The team gathered around a large silver table and stood silent, their senses overwhelmed by the deafening stillness.
On the table lay a woman, unmoving, her skin pale and dry veins etched around her neck. Her opened eyes held no spark, only a vacant emptiness.
"It dropped after the trigger went off," replied Jordan - I think-, his brown eyes meeting Alice's.
Alice, her fiery gaze fixed on the body, nodded slowly. Her mind churned, analysing the data swirling in her head, desperately seeking a pattern amidst the rising tide of infected deaths.
Three male team members huffed with frustration, while others, like myself, watched with a tight-lipped focus. A storm brewed within Alice, a tempestuous turmoil mirrored in her eyes as they trailed over the dead girl's skull, pierced by a single, fatal bullet.
The body was fresh, the decay delayed. Yet, this girl wasn't the one the bullet had struck. This one bore dark brown hair, a stark contrast to the victim's fiery red waves. Transformation at such speed was impossible, and the lack of movement after the shot shattered any notion of escape and substitution.
"So… she shapeshifted?" questioned the second woman, her gaze shifting from the body to Alice's face. "Is this a new development? What kind of infection is this?"
Lazaros, the only shapeshifter I knew, was a master of disguise. If this girl could truly change form, then there were others lurking out there.
"This is a first," Alice stated, her voice firm. "We need further investigation before jumping to conclusions."
My eyes remained fixed on the withering corpse, searching for any clue invisible to the others. Perhaps Lazaros could shed some light, but it had been three days since I last saw him. He'd been acting strange, and his whereabouts were as elusive as a desert mirage. And the damn server had been silent for far too long.
"Roman, what did the response say? Any similarities?"
A collective gaze fell upon me, a mix of anticipation and unspoken doubts. I cleared my throat, lifting the white sheet from the body and handing it to Alice.
"The first attackers were blind," I explained, my voice cracking slightly. "But it seems they've evolved. They can see now."
Seeing the lingering curiosity in their eyes, I elaborated. "During the attack, they followed sounds. They didn't reach me until I made a noise." I omitted the unsettling detail of Lazaros, in child form, attacking me and then shifting into my own image.
Another agent, her name escaping me at the moment, spoke up. "They couldn't have upgraded themselves. They're half-conscious with scrambled minds and zero intelligence. Unless there's someone pulling the strings."
The man beside her, his face etched with worry, added, "If there's someone behind it all, what could their motive possibly be?"
Silence descended again, heavy as a graveyard. Unlike the graveyard, however, this room held no lurking creatures or dry rustlings, only the unsettling whispers of an unknown threat, human or otherwise.
The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating, like the stench of decay finally registering in my brain. Why kill people? Just for bloodlust? Villains had motives, ambitions, and even twisted justifications. But this… this was pure savagery.
Then, from the corner, a voice sliced through the stunned silence. It was the quiet girl, her head bowed, eyes downcast. "Why kill a whole village?" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Simple. To become the new ruler."
The words hit us like a physical blow. Heads swivelled, brows furrowed, but her gaze remained fixed on the floor as if the weight of her revelation was too much to bear. The team began to murmur, dissecting her statement, their eyes avoiding hers.
Except mine. I couldn't tear my gaze away. Not just from the unspoken fear in the air, but from the chilling realisation that one amongst us was undead. A familiar face, a trusted comrade, now a walking corpse.
Unless... they were a 'personality bender.'
My mind raced, piecing together the clues. The impossible transformation, the discordant scent that lingered, faint yet undeniable. Even Lazaros, the most cunning Infected I knew, couldn't fully mask his presence. This was different, subtle, hidden beneath a layer of familiarity.
Before I could delve deeper, the scent vanished. The trail went cold, leaving me with a gnawing unease. The perpetrator was still here, playing a twisted game of hide-and-seek with our senses.
My focus shifted to the desiccated corpse of the girl, her drained veins a stark reminder of the threat we faced. A newbie infected, that much I knew from my own observations. Too green, too raw to possess such power.
"I don't think she transformed on her own," I interjected, my voice cutting through the tense silence. "Personality bender."
The chatter ceased. Every eye turned to me, hanging on my next words. I took a deep breath, my pulse drumming a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
"Look at the veins," I explained, tracing an imaginary line above the girl's arm. "Newbies, their veins dry pale blue. But the old ones had red. This girl… she's somewhere in between, but definitely a newbie."
The revelation sparked a flurry of questions, anxieties swirling like dust devils. Could newbies transform? Was this an anomaly? A terrifying mutation?
"Newbies are like infants," I clarified, "they transform over time. But they wouldn't have this… control."
Alice, her face etched with confusion, ran a hand through her hair. "So, if she's not a bender and not an overpowered newbie… then how?"
The unanswered question hung heavy. We needed answers, not more riddles. We needed an Infected, someone to break the code of this macabre puzzle.
Amelia, a junior Agent with eyes sharp as flint, stepped forward. "Two possibilities," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Either she's a one-off, an anomaly. Or… someone transformed her."
The second option sent shivers down my mind. A personality bender loose amongst us, twisting minds, manipulating lives. A threat far more insidious than any mindless horde.
But first… I needed a conversation with the only other bender I knew. Lazaros. He held the key, the answer to the riddle that threatened to consume us all.