Ryo wandered through the aisles, his footsteps echoing in the vast, hollow space.
Rows of shelves stood in eerie disarray—some half-empty, others toppled over like people had grabbed what they could and ran. A few baskets lay abandoned, products spilling onto the linoleum floor.
It looked less like a store and more like a scene from an evacuation.
"Hello?" Ryo called out, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence.
No answer.
He tried again, louder this time. "Anyone here?"
Only his own echo answered, bouncing off the empty aisles, mocking his isolation.
The longer he lingered, the clearer it became—this place, like the rest of the city, had been left behind. The world he knew was gone, leaving only hollow remnants in its wake.
A cold shiver crawled up his spine.
Fighting the unease clawing at his gut, Ryo turned and hurried back toward his apartment.
But stepping into his home didn't bring comfort.
The moment he shut the door behind him, the silence settled in—heavier than before. The walls felt smaller, the air thicker. He dropped onto his bed, gripping his phone, staring at the date on the screen.
Seven days lost.
Seven days he couldn't remember.
His breath came slow and uneven. His fingers tightened around his phone.
"The fuck just happened?"
His voice barely filled the room.
A prank? No. The stillness outside, the abandoned streets, the missing people—it was too real.
The questions hammered in his mind, over and over, without answers.
Where did everyone go?
Why wasn't anyone answering?
What the hell could have emptied the city so completely… so silently?
And more than anything—why was he the only one left?
He dialed again.
This time, he wasn't even sure who he expected to pick up—a friend, a stranger, a voice, anything.
But all he got was the same eerie, endless ringing.
One call.
Another.
And another.
Each one met with silence before clicking over to voicemail.
His thumb hovered over his contacts list. He scrolled through the names, searching for anyone—a coworker, an old classmate, even a wrong number. Someone to break this unbearable stillness.
Nothing.
With every unanswered call, the realization clawed deeper into his mind.
Whatever had happened… it had happened to everyone.
Everyone except him.
Night fell over the city, swallowing the skyline in darkness. The usual warm glow of neon lights and apartment windows had thinned to just a few scattered flickers—like dying embers struggling to stay lit.
Ryo stood by the window, watching the emptiness stretch beneath him.
The silence pressed in from all sides. Thick. Absolute.
A quiet challenge.
A dare.
Something had taken the world he knew. Something had left him behind.
Ryo sat on the edge of his bed, the dim glow of his smartphone casting eerie shadows across the darkened room. The silence pressed in, suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of his phone's processor.
His fingers hovered over the screen, hesitant. What if the answers he found only made things worse?
A deep breath. A swipe of his thumb.
He opened his news app.
The screen lagged, loading sluggishly as if reluctant to reveal the truth. Every second stretched unbearably, his pulse thudding in his ears.
Then— the headlines appeared.
"Mysterious Virus Outbreak Shuts Down Major Cities Worldwide"
"Government Declares State of Emergency; Citizens Urged to Stay Indoors"
"Mass Evacuations Ordered Amid Spread of Unidentified Contagion"
Each one slammed into him like a fist to the gut.
His breathing grew shallow.
A virus?
Evacuations?
State of emergency?
He scrolled further, his grip tightening. An article from five days ago caught his eye.
"Viral Outbreak Unleashes Chaos: Millions Affected as Health Officials Struggle to Contain Spread"
Five days.
Five days since the world collapsed.
And he had slept right through it.
Ryo's eyes flicked over the article, each paragraph dragging him deeper into a reality that no longer resembled the world he knew.
A virus—sweeping through cities like wildfire. Hospitals overwhelmed. Entire communities collapsing overnight.
Mass panic. Looting. People fleeing, abandoning everything in their desperate bid for survival.
His fingers clenched around his phone, knuckles white. His breath caught as he read on.
"Within hours of infection, victims display erratic and violent behavior, attacking without hesitation. Reports confirm their aggression is fueled by an insatiable, primal urge—to feed."
His stomach twisted.
Photos flooded the screen. Streets in ruin. Barricades crumbling. Military forces barely holding the line. Swarms of people—no, not people anymore—pushing forward, unrelenting.
The government had tried to contain it. They failed.
Ryo swallowed hard, his mind spinning. His body felt ice-cold despite the heat of his rising panic.
He remembered the injection. The fever that had burned through him for days, leaving him unconscious.
And now… this.
His grip on the phone tightened. No. It couldn't be connected. Could it?
He shook his head, pushing the thought away.
Ryo forced his attention back to the screen, his eyes scanning the final section of the article.
Quarantines. Martial law. Entire cities locked down.
"Citizens are advised to remain indoors. Secure all entry points. Avoid contact with the infected at all costs."
The words blurred as he stared, a chilling realization settling over him like a lead weight.
Everyone had followed that advice. They had locked their doors. They had fled. And somehow—they had left him behind.
His hand trembled as he scrolled further, each line hammering home the same terrifying truth. The virus had spread with ruthless speed, overwhelming even the most fortified cities. The authorities had been too slow, too weak—and the infected had torn through every last defense.
Then, the article described them.
"Those afflicted by the virus display heightened aggression and inhuman speed. They attack without hesitation, driven by a singular instinct—to feed."
Ryo's breath hitched.
"No trace of former humanity remains. Only an insatiable hunger."
A cold sweat prickled at his skin. He remembered the fever that had nearly consumed him—the aches, the fatigue, the burning heat. His symptoms had mirrored everything described in the reports.
And yet…
He was fine.
Ryo clenched his jaw, his heart pounding.
The virus had brought the world to its knees. And somehow, he had survived.
Why?
Desperate for more answers, Ryo switched to social media.
Posts. Photos. Videos.
Each one was a window into the chaos that had unfolded while he was unconscious. People shared their fears, their losses, their desperate attempts to survive. Some begged for help. Others recounted near-death encounters. A few had already given up, their final messages stark and haunting.
He scrolled past shaky phone footage—frantic evacuations, empty grocery stores stripped bare, makeshift fortresses where survivors huddled together, waiting.
Then, one video caught his eye.
A crowded hospital. Faces twisted in fear and despair. The camera panned over overwhelmed doctors, their voices drowned in a chorus of pained moans and desperate pleas.
A voiceover crackled:
"The virus is highly contagious. Medical resources are nearly gone. There's no cure. No treatment."
The screen cut to deserted streets—eerily similar to the cityscape outside Ryo's window.
Silence. Emptiness. A world abandoned.
He swallowed hard, scrolling further.
A video flashed across his screen. The title was simple, desperate:
"We're still here. Someone… anyone, please respond."
He tapped it open. A dimly lit room appeared. A family, huddled together, whispering anxiously. The parents held their children close, their voices shaking as they explained how they had barricaded themselves inside.
Then—something went wrong.
One of them—a young girl—collapsed.
The camera jolted as panic spread through the room.
"Ai-chan? Ai-chan, what's wrong?!"
Her body convulsed violently. Twitching. Writhing. A silent scream frozen on her face.
Her skin paled to a deathly shade. Her eyes rolled back.
And then—she moved.
With an unnatural, jerking motion, she twisted upright. Her mouth opened. A guttural, wet growl tore from her throat.
Then she lunged—
The video cut out.
Ryo sat frozen, the glow of his phone screen flickering against his tense grip.
This wasn't just a virus.
This was hell itself.
( End of Chapter )