As Paris ran as fast as she could, the desperate cries for help echoed in her ears. "Help me, oh God, help me!" The screams and pleas were filled with agony and despair, and she knew there was no help coming. The research facility was surrounded by a wide field leading into dense woods. Reaching her car seemed impossible, so the woods appeared to be the only viable option.
Using all her strength, she sprinted toward the trees, her heart pounding, legs burning, and lungs aching with every breath. The horrific sounds from the facility faded as she focused on the need to survive. The trees ahead loomed dark and foreboding, but they promised cover and a chance to escape the nightmare behind her.
Suddenly, her foot caught on a root, and she lost her balance. Time seemed to slow as she pitched forward, the ground rushing up to meet her. In those fleeting moments, her mind was flooded with flashes of her life—her childhood, her first day at the lab, her proudest achievements, and even the mundane moments she had taken for granted. This is it, she thought. This is where I die.
She hit the ground hard, face-first into the dirt. Pain exploded in her forehead as she bashed the side of her head against a rock. Blood oozed from the wound, trickling down her face. The world around her spun, her vision blurring as she tried to push herself up. Dazed and disoriented, she could barely make out the shapes and sounds around her.
From a distance, she heard it—a low, guttural growl that sent chills down her spine. The sound was unmistakable, a reminder that the nightmare was far from over. Panic surged through her, but her body refused to cooperate. Her limbs felt heavy, her head throbbing with pain. She needed to move, to hide, but the fall had taken too much out of her.
Struggling to her feet, she forced herself to move forward, each step a battle against the pain and dizziness. The growls grew louder, closer, and she knew she was running out of time. She stumbled through the underbrush, branches scratching at her skin, the scent of earth and blood filling her nostrils.
Her vision swam as she pushed through the trees, each step a desperate attempt to distance herself from the horrors behind her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body screaming in protest, but she pressed on, driven by sheer willpower and the primal instinct to survive. The woods seemed to close in around her, the shadows deepening, the sounds of pursuit growing ever nearer.
She tripped again, this time catching herself before she hit the ground. The adrenaline surging through her veins gave her the strength to keep going. She cast a frantic glance over her shoulder and saw the figures emerging from the facility, moving with an unnatural, jerky gait. The sight spurred her on, a fresh wave of terror propelling her forward.
Paris's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of her nightmare and the reality that now engulfed her. What had caused this outbreak? Could it be related to her research? The questions swirled in her mind, but there was no time to dwell on them. She had to keep moving, had to find safety.
As she ran deeper into the woods, the growls and screams faded, replaced by the eerie silence of the forest. She stumbled upon a small clearing and collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath. Her head throbbed, and the blood from her wound had matted her hair and trickled down her neck. She wiped at it absently, her thoughts racing.
She pulled the box and folder from Dr. Devo out of her bag, her hands trembling. What secrets did they hold? Could they provide answers, a way to stop this madness? She opened the folder with shaking hands, but before she could read a single word, a twig snapped behind her. She quicky replaced the folder and box back into the suitcase.
Her heart leaped into her throat as she turned, her eyes wide with fear. A shadowy figure emerged from the trees, its form obscured by the darkness. She froze, every muscle in her body tensed, her mind screaming at her to run. The figure stepped closer, and she could make out the glint of eyes watching her intently.
His skin was rotted like a corpse, the smell awful and the monstrous sounds he made were bone-chilling. It's him! The one from my dream. My time is ending! Tears flooded Paris's eyes as she began to accept her fate, knowing it might be the end. The creature drew closer, reaching out with a decaying hand that grabbed at her shoe. He tore through the leather, ripping it off her foot with a savage strength. Just as his gnarled fingers neared her exposed flesh, a sudden, unexpected intervention occurred.
A figure emerged from the shadows—one of the scientists from her facility. With a desperate roar, he tackled the creature, wrestling it to the ground. The distraction caused the monster to lose focus, momentarily abandoning its pursuit of Paris. The scientist's struggle was fierce, his determination unwavering as he fought to keep the beast subdued.
Paris's rescuer then turned to her, urgency in his eyes. He reached out a hand, helping her to her feet. Together, they fled from the scene, their breaths ragged and hearts pounding. The sounds of pursuit faded into the distance, replaced by the eerie silence of the forest. They found a small clearing and stopped, both of them gasping for breath.
In the quiet, Paris realized she had been running with a stranger, her mind too focused on survival to recognize him. As they rested, the scientist began to mumble repeatedly, his voice filled with anguish. "I knew, I knew, I knew all along what they were doing!" His words were punctuated by the tremor of guilt and fear.
Doctor Paris looked at him, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to make sense of the situation. The scientist's eyes met hers, and she saw a flicker of recognition and pain.
"I knew about the experiments," he said, his voice hoarse. "The ones that started all of this. I tried to stop them, but—" He choked on his words, the weight of his confession hanging heavily in the air. "But I couldn't. I couldn't warn anyone."
Paris's mind raced, piecing together the fragments of their chaotic reality. The scientist's revelation added a new layer to the mystery. If he knew, then there were answers buried somewhere in the wreckage of the facility, answers that could perhaps explain the horrors they were facing and offer a glimmer of hope.
"Let's find a safe place," Paris said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "We need to regroup and figure out our next move."
The scientist nodded, but his face suddenly contorted with pain. Before Paris could react, he stumbled, clutching his side. His skin started to change, becoming pallid and mottled. He groaned, his eyes turning a ghastly shade.
Paris watched in horror as he transformed into a creature similar to the monster they had just escaped. The scientist, now a grotesque hybrid of human and zombie, lurched toward her with a mindless hunger.
Panic surged through Paris. She grabbed a large rock from the ground and, with a primal scream, swung it at his head. The impact was sickening—his skull caved in, blood spraying in dark, viscous streams. But he didn't go down easily. He thrashed and clawed, his movements jerky and violent. Paris fought back desperately, smashing the rock again and again, struggling to end his nightmarish existence.
Finally, with one last feral cry, she crushed him into stillness. Breathing heavily, she stood over the bloodied mess, her hands and clothes splattered with the dark, grimy blood. The woods around her seemed eerily quiet, as if holding its breath.
What had caused this outbreak? How could a brilliant mind become one of them so swiftly? And what other horrors lay ahead as she uncovered the secrets behind this twisted experiment?