It had been self-defense, Liam told himself again. The old man had charged at him. Yet, as he stared at the crumpled body on the floor, the dark pool of blood spreading beneath it, his stomach churned violently. He stumbled to the side and retched, the acidic burn in his throat matched only by the sting of tears spilling over his cheeks. His chest heaved with the weight of what he'd done. He hadn't wanted this—hadn't wanted any of it. He'd only wanted to escape.
Now, the suffocating reality of his actions threatened to drown him.
A faint creak from the doorway sliced through the oppressive silence. Liam froze, his breath hitching as his gaze snapped to the sound. His heart thundered against his ribcage, every beat louder than the one before.
In the dim light, Selene stood in the doorway.
Her once familiar form was distorted, elongated, and wrong. Limbs stretched unnaturally, bending at grotesque angles as though her body had been stripped of its humanity. She moved—or rather, flowed—like water defying gravity, her motions too smooth, too unnatural.
Her eyes, once vibrant and warm, now glowed a deep, bloodshot crimson, shimmering with a predatory hunger that made Liam's blood run cold. Slowly, a smile twisted across her face, revealing teeth too sharp, too jagged.
"You killed my papa," she sang, her voice lilting like a child's tune played on a broken music box. The melody was layered, her voice tangled with something darker, deeper—a voice not her own. The sound slithered into Liam's ears, coiling around his thoughts like a living thing.
He stumbled backward, his breath coming in shallow gasps as panic gripped him. His feet slid on the slick, blood-smeared floor, nearly toppling him, but instinct pushed him upright.
"Selene..." he whispered, the name trembling on his lips like a curse.
Her grin stretched wider, and with it, the atmosphere in the room seemed to grow colder. The flickering light from the overhead bulb barely illuminated the silhouette of her unnaturally tall form.
Liam's pulse quickened as his body screamed for him to run, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped, cornered in the kitchen, with this monstrous thing before him. And yet, he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. It was like some invisible force was holding him in place, paralyzing him with fear. The smell of decay was in the air, faint but unmistakable—a scent of rot, of death.
Her voice—if it could be called that—came next. It was low, distorted, as though the words were being dragged from the depths of something inhuman.
"Run," she whispered, the sound too soft, too sweet to be a warning. It was an invitation, a sickening offer as she went deeper into the darkness leaving the doorway open.Her smile faltered for a split second, then returned, sharper and colder than before. "Run... before it's too late."
Liam's blood ran cold, his chest tightening in panic. His legs trembled, his mind spinning, unable to reconcile what he was seeing with the reality he had known just moments before.
He stumbled forward tremblingly , his heart slamming against his ribcage as his instincts screamed for him to flee. And flee he did,his adrenaline seemed to take over as he sprinted out the kitchen leaving the dead man and Selene behind however he couldn't help but glance back. Her eyes were locked on him still, glowing with that unnatural hunger.
He couldn't stay here. He couldn't let this—her—catch him.
The hallway stretched before him, the cold air pressing against his skin as he sprinted. Behind him, Selene's laughter rose, low and melodic, taunting him with its unnatural beauty. His legs burned, but he didn't dare slow down.
He stumbled into the survivors' room, nearly collapsing against the doorframe. The others looked up, startled by his wild entrance.
"Get up! Now!" Liam's voice cracked, raw with terror. "She's coming!"
The room erupted into chaos. The soldier stationed near the door grabbed Liam by the shoulder, his voice sharp. "Calm down! What are you talking about?"
He didn't have to finish. The sheer terror in his voice was enough to jolt the room into a stunned silence. Uneasy murmurs broke out, but Liam didn't stop to explain. He was already at the door, hands clawing at the boards nailed across it, desperate to rip them free.
"What the hell are you doing?" someone shouted, their voice rising with fear. "There are zombies out there!"
Liam didn't answer, his fingers fumbling with the nails. His mind was a whirlwind, the image of Selene's glowing red eyes and unnatural smile burned into his thoughts. He had to get out—had to run.
Before anyone could intervene, the soldier stormed forward, his boots heavy against the floor. "Stop!" he barked, grabbing Liam's shoulder and yanking him back. "You'll get us all killed!"
Liam shoved him off with a strength born of desperation, his voice breaking. "You don't understand! She's—she's coming! We can't stay here!"
The room erupted into chaos. Fear spread like wildfire, the survivors huddling together, unsure whether to stop Liam or believe him. Some shouted, others whispered frantically, but no one moved toward the door. The soldier hesitated, his face hard but uncertain, as if weighing the risk.
And then, as if summoned by Liam's hysteria, she appeared.
The doorframe shuddered as Selene ducked inside, her tall, wiry frame bending unnaturally to fit through the opening. Her movements were fluid but wrong, like a predator toying with its prey. Her bloodshot eyes gleamed with a chilling amusement, and her lips stretched into a grotesque smile, too wide for any human face.
The soldier turned to her, his body frozen in place. His breath hitched as he stared, paralyzed by the impossibility of what he was seeing. Selene tilted her head at him, her smile widening until her jaw unhinged with a sickening crack. Her mouth opened impossibly wide, black and gaping like a void.
Before anyone could scream, she moved—quick as a flash, faster than the eye could follow. Her jaws closed around the nearest person with the precision of a striking snake. He barely had time to gasp before she swallowed him whole, her body contorting grotesquely as she devoured him in one horrific, seamless motion.
That was when the screams came—raw, piercing, and filled with terror. The room erupted into chaos as people scrambled in all directions, their panicked cries drowning out the wet, guttural sounds of Selene's feeding. Blood spattered the walls as she straightened, her grotesque grin returning, her eyes scanning the room for her next victim.
Chaos consumed the room as the survivors, driven by terror, surged toward the boarded door. Liam gritted his teeth, his fingers trembling as he yanked at the wooden planks with all his strength. Another man joined him, his hands bloodied from prying at the stubborn nails. Together, they tore at the barrier, splinters flying as the boards began to loosen.
"Hurry up!" someone screamed, their voice shrill with panic.
Behind them, the soldier steadied his rifle, sweat dripping down his brow. He fired, the deafening sound of gunshots reverberating off the walls. The bullets struck Selene square in the chest, but she didn't falter. Her body jerked unnaturally with each impact, as though the bullets were nothing more than minor inconveniences.
Liam risked a glance over his shoulder and felt his stomach drop. Selene moved forward with jerky, unnatural steps, her head tilting at an odd angle, her arms hanging limply at her sides.
For a split second, Liam thought he saw them—threads, thin and glistening, stretching from her limbs to the ceiling, catching the dim light. But as quickly as they appeared, they were gone, leaving him questioning whether his terror was playing tricks on him.
"She's not stopping!" the soldier yelled, unloading another volley of shots. The bullets tore through her, blood spraying across the floor, but still, she kept coming, her grin widening.
The last board gave way, and the door swung open. Liam and the man beside him began pulling survivors through, shoving them toward the dark, open night. "Go! Go now!" Liam shouted, his voice hoarse.
Screams erupted again as Selene's head snapped toward a woman who had tripped in the panic. The woman's wide, tear-filled eyes met Selene's glowing crimson gaze, and she scrambled backward, pleading. "Please, no—"
Selene moved in an instant, faster than anyone could react. Her long, clawed hand gripped the woman's neck, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. The woman struggled, kicking and clawing at Selene's arm, but it was useless.
With a sickening, wet crack, Selene pulled, and the woman's head tore free from her body. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc as the lifeless body collapsed to the floor. Selene held the head for a moment, turning it in her hands like a macabre trophy before tossing it aside.
The screams grew louder, the remaining survivors pushing and shoving to get out of the room. Liam felt someone grab his arm, pulling him toward the exit, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Selene. The puppet-like way she moved, the eerie threads he thought he'd seen.
"Liam, move!" the soldier bellowed, snapping him out of his daze.
Selene's head turned sharply toward the door, her bloodied smile still stretched wide, as if she had all the time in the world to finish them.
Liam stumbled through the exit, his heart pounding, the night air cold and biting against his skin. But even outside, the screams followed him, and he knew this wasn't over.
He didn't need to look again. He didn't want to.
"Go!" Liam shouted, his voice shaking, his breath ragged. "Go! Now!"
The survivors surged out of the diner and into the suffocating darkness of the night. Liam bolted ahead of the group, his legs moving on pure instinct. The terror in the air was palpable, thick enough to choke on. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to run faster, to put more distance between himself and the abomination Selene had become.
Congratulations. Reward granted.
A faint blue screen flickered into existence in front of Liam, startling him mid-stride. It hovered in the air, translucent but glowing with an otherworldly vibrancy. His eyes darted to it, his pace faltering for a split second before his body overruled his hesitation.
The words were clear, yet distant, as though whispered directly into his mind by a mechanical voice that carried an unsettling authority. His muscles tensed as he read:
"To be able to outrun anything chasing you. A survival perk granted."
The screen dissolved as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind a strange buzzing sensation in his skull. He stumbled slightly, his body suddenly feeling lighter, as if a weight he hadn't noticed was lifted. His feet moved faster now, his stride lengthening effortlessly, his breathing steadying in a way that defied logic.
Was this real? Was this the system? A strange certainty settled in his chest, his body already responding to whatever had just happened before his mind could make sense of it. His heart pounded, but not with fear—it was a surge of adrenaline mixed with something unfamiliar, something empowering. Whatever this was, it wasn't just in his head. It was part of him now.
__________
The group fled into the night, stumbling and gasping as fear gnawed at their heels. Behind them, Selene's distorted laughter chased them like a living thing, rising and falling in eerie waves. It wasn't loud, but it clung to the air, brittle and unnatural, making the hair on their necks stand on end.
"Move!" barked the soldier, his voice rough from shouting orders. He fired another round into the darkness, the muzzle flash briefly illuminating the horde that stumbled after them. Selene was among them, her pale figure lurching unnaturally. She seemed almost playful, her pace deliberately slow as if giving them hope they could escape—until she flung one of the undead forward. The creature flew like a ragdoll, landing with a sickening crunch just feet away from the group.
"Goddamn it!" snarled one of the older men, shoving past a woman who'd faltered. His breath wheezed in his throat, his wiry frame struggling to keep up. "She's just toying with us!"
"Shut up and run!" the soldier snapped, his boots pounding against the cracked pavement.
The gunfire was relentless now, deafening in the confined alleyways. A second man,the one who had helped Liam earlier, cut down zombies as they poured from the shadows. For every one that fell, two more emerged, their guttural moans swelling into a dreadful symphony.
Liam stumbled near the middle of the group, his breaths hitching in his chest. He wasn't as old or as tired as the others, but the panic clawing at his mind made his legs feel like lead. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Selene again—her pale, blood-streaked arms reaching out, a mockery of an embrace. His stomach churned.
"She's catching up!" he cried, his voice cracking.
"Not if I can help it," growled the soldier ahead of him. He stopped suddenly, turning with practiced efficiency. "Keep running!" he barked. Without hesitation, he unloaded his magazine, his shots precise and deliberate. The bullets shredded through a cluster of zombies, their bodies collapsing in grotesque heaps.
But the sound only drew more. From the shadows of broken-down cars and shattered buildings, the undead spilled into the narrow street like a flood.
"We're boxed in!" shouted a woman at the front, her voice shrill with fear.
The soldier swore under his breath. "Take the left! Move!"
They veered sharply, forcing their way through an alley so narrow they had to squeeze between its jagged walls. Selene's laughter faded for a moment, replaced by the distant moans of the pursuing horde. For a fleeting second, hope flickered in their chests.
That was when they heard it—a low, inhuman growl, too close. A zombie staggered from behind a dumpster, its hollow eyes locking onto the group. Liam froze, his blood turning to ice.
"Kid, down!" the soldier roared. Liam dropped instinctively as a gunshot cracked through the air. The zombie's head snapped back, its body crumpling.
"She's not chasing us," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
"What?" wheezed the older man beside him, his thin frame trembling with exertion.
"She's just standing there," Liam repeated, louder this time. "Why isn't she following us?"
"Shut up, kid!" snapped the soldier. "Focus on running!"
But the thought rooted itself in Liam's mind, growing like a weed. His gaze darted around as they ran, and that was when he noticed it.
The buildings were thinning.
They had been weaving through dense alleyways and cluttered streets not long ago, but now the structures around them were spaced farther apart, crumbling in solitude. The city was giving way to the outskirts, the faint outlines of overgrown fields creeping into view.
"Wait," Liam breathed, his legs burning as he kept pace. "Where are we going?"
"We're getting the hell away!" shouted the soldier, his tone laced with impatience.
"No," Liam said, his voice trembling, "she's leading us."
The soldier shot him a glare but didn't respond. The rest of the group was too focused on running, their faces contorted with fear and exhaustion. But Liam couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.
The zombies were thinning, too. The streets weren't swarming with them like before. Instead, the group only encountered small clusters, easily gunned down by the soldiers. For every body that dropped, there were fewer moans to take their place.
It didn't make sense.
Selene could have sent the horde after them, or thrown more of her monstrous puppets into their path. But she hadn't. She had let them run. And the further they ran, the quieter the world became.
A man near the front tripped, cursing as he scrambled to his feet. The soldier at the rear stopped just long enough to fire a few more rounds, his face a mask of grim focus.
"Keep moving!" he shouted.
The group surged forward, their footsteps loud in the empty night. Liam's heart pounded against his ribs, but his mind raced even faster.
The soldier had said they were escaping, but were they? Every step took them further from the city, from its familiar chaos, and into something unknown. The ruins around them grew sparse, the shadows stretching longer.
Finally, they stumbled into an open field that once might have been a parking lot. Now it was a cracked wasteland of concrete and weeds, bathed in pale moonlight. The group slowed, their breaths ragged as they tried to process the sudden emptiness around them.
"Why are we stopping?!" Liam's voice cut through the night, sharp and desperate. His chest heaved, his legs shaking, but his adrenaline refused to let him rest. "We can't just stand here!"
The soldier at the front turned to face him, his rifle slung low, but his grip still tight. His face, weathered and lined, twisted with barely-contained frustration. "We need to catch our breath," he said flatly, gesturing behind Liam with a nod.
Liam spun around, his eyes darting over the haggard group. Most of them were older—faces pale, chests heaving. A wiry woman leaned against the rusted frame of an old car, clutching her knees. Another man dropped to sit on the cracked pavement, head bowed and muttering curses under his breath.
Liam pressed his hands to his temples. "We're out in the open! No cover, no—"
"Kid," the soldier interrupted, his voice low but firm, "if we don't stop, they'll collapse. That'll slow us down more than a minute or two here." He glanced back at the group, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Besides, there's nothing chasing us."
Liam froze at those words, the pounding in his head matching the erratic beat of his heart.
No groans. No shuffling feet. No Selene.
His eyes swept over the field again, the moonlight illuminating the barren expanse. Grass poked through cracks in the concrete, and rusted, skeletal remains of cars dotted the area, but there was no movement.
Liam's stomach twisted. They'd been running for their lives, Selene's laughter following them like a ghost, but now it was gone. Completely gone.
The soldier turned to the older survivors. "Two minutes. Catch your breath. Then we move."
The group didn't argue. They slumped down where they stood, gulping air like drowning men breaking the surface.
Liam stayed standing, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Two minutes? We're in the middle of nowhere! What if—"
"Enough," the soldier snapped, his voice sharp.
"What the hell was that, Liam?" he demanded, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him against the wall. "You warned me about that woman! You must know something!"
Liam slapped the soldier's hand away, glaring right back at him. "How the hell was I supposed to know that would happen?!" he shot back, his voice laced with frustration. "You didn't listen to me, and now two people are dead! Maybe if you'd kept your damn gun in check, we wouldn't be in this mess!"
The soldier's jaw tightened, but he said nothing, his eyes narrowing. Another man chimed in, his voice shaking. "Did you see her? Her eyes, her teeth... she wasn't—she wasn't human. What the hell are we dealing with?"
Liam let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Oh, sure, because I totally have a guidebook on crazy-ass zombie demon things. Yeah, just let me pull it out of my pocket!" He mimed flipping through an invisible book, his sarcastic tone doing little to hide the tremor in his voice. "Step one: Don't get eaten. Step two: Don't piss off the freakishly tall nightmare lady!"
Despite the situation, one of the survivors let out a nervous chuckle, which quickly turned into a full-blown laugh. "You're an idiot," the man said, shaking his head, but there was a hint of gratitude in his voice.
Liam grinned faintly, though his expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, well, an idiot who's still alive. That's got to count for something, right?"
The soldier sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We need to keep moving," he muttered, his voice weary. "If that thing's still after us, staying here is a death sentence."
The soldier shot him a glare but didn't respond. The group began to move again, their pace slower now, each step weighed down by fear and exhaustion. Liam fell into step beside the man who had laughed earlier, his own unease masked by a faint smirk.
Liak broke the silence, his voice low but tense. "Do you think it's because Selene isn't with us anymore? Maybe that's why we didn't see as many before—because she was near?"
Selene's absence weighed on everyone, and her mysterious abilities had never been fully understood. Someone behind Liak whispered in agreement. "It makes sense. The further we move from where she was, the more of them we're seeing. It's like... they were avoiding her somehow."
The soldier at the front, stoic and alert, raised his hand for silence. The group stopped instantly, holding their breaths as a zombie lurched past just feet away. Its glassy eyes rolled in its head, searching for the faintest movement. Once it disappeared into the shadows, the soldier motioned them forward again.
The group continued, their nerves raw. The density of zombies increased as they neared their destination, forcing them to take out stray ones with quick, silent kills. Every scrape of a knife and muted thud of a body hitting the ground felt amplified in the oppressive stillness.
Finally, the soldier paused and pointed ahead to a looming structure barely visible in the dim light—a warehouse. Its broken windows and rusted exterior looked ominous, but it was their only hope for shelter. He gestured for them to move quickly.
One by one, they slipped inside, taking out the few stray zombies near the entrance. The warehouse was cold and vast, filled with towering shelves and scattered debris. The group fanned out cautiously, checking corners and aisles to ensure the space was clear.
For a moment, the silence returned, and the survivors huddled together, catching their breath. Liak leaned against a shelf, his heart still pounding.
The other survivors gathered around a rusted metal table in the center of the warehouse, their breaths still uneven from the tension outside. The soldier placed a folded map on the table, spreading it out under the dim light of a flickering lantern. His face was worn but focused, the kind of expression that inspired cautious hope.
"We're somewhere in the city," he began, circling a vague area on the map with the tip of his finger. "The landmarks are hard to recognize now, but based on the route we took and what's left of the buildings, we're here."
Everyone leaned in closer, their eyes following his movements. The soldier then pointed to an X-mark deep in the forest, far from their current location. "This is where we need to go," he said firmly. "There's a base operating there. It's safe, and they're taking in survivors. I picked up the signal on the radio before everything went to hell."
A few of the group exchanged skeptical glances. "How do you know it's still there?" someone asked.
The soldier looked up, his gaze unwavering. "I don't," he admitted. "But I do know someone there—a man I knew when I was younger. He's a good person. If he's still alive, he'll take us in. He'll make sure we're safe."
Liam frowned, his arms crossed. "A good person? In times like these? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."
The soldier's jaw tightened. "You don't have to believe me. But sitting here, waiting for that horde to figure out we're inside, isn't going to help any of us. This is our best chance." He paused, letting his words settle before adding, The soldier paused for a moment, then said, "His name is Alden. He's the kind of man who always found a way to help others, even before all this. If he's still out there, he'll take us in and make sure we're safe."
Selene's absence still hung heavily over the group, and the uncertainty of her role in their survival made some hesitant to trust anyone else. But the alternative—staying here and eventually being overrun—was grim.
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Liam nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But if this place doesn't exist, or your friend isn't who you think he is, I'm not going to follow anyone blindly again."
"Fair enough," the soldier replied, giving a curt nod. "We leave at dawn. Get some rest while you can. It's going to be a long road."
Liam's stomach churned as the name Alden lingered in the air. His breath caught slightly, and for a brief moment, his mind went blank. Something about that name... It didn't sit right with him, like an unsettling memory he couldn't quite grasp. He watched the soldier's confident expression, the way he spoke about Alden with reverence, but a part of him recoiled.