Is this how it ends?
The thought clawed through his mind as he stumbled through the chaos. Around him, blood splattered the streets, mixing with the shattered glass and debris scattered everywhere. People screamed, desperate to escape the horde of zombies tearing through the crowd like animals unleashed. Flesh was ripped apart, limbs torn; the smell of decay and blood filled his lungs with every breath.
He looked down, feeling the sharp, searing pain in his arm—a bite, deep and oozing blood. It throbbed like a curse, pulsing in time with the panicked rhythm of his heart. The bite mark seemed to mock him, a mark of his failure, of all the sacrifices he'd made that were now crumbling to pieces.
" This isn't how it was supposed to end…"
He took a shaky step back, every instinct screaming at him to run, but it was too late. Zombies were closing in on him, their hollow, empty eyes locked on him as though they could already taste his flesh.
Then, just as one lunged at him, he heard it—her voice. Soft and distant, but unmistakable, calling his name over and over again.
"Wake up! … come on, wake up!"
The world began to fade around him, the screams and groans turning to muffled echoes. He could barely make out the face of the woman he once loved, reaching out for him, her voice now just a whisper. And then… darkness...
His eyes flew open to a blinding white light overhead, the harshness of it making his head pound. He blinked, squinting to adjust as he felt the cold bite of metal against his wrists and ankles. Straps bound him tightly to a chair, holding him in place, unyielding. He tried to move, but each attempt only drove the metal deeper into his skin.
Where was he? What was happening?
Two figures stood in front of him, both wearing white coats, masks pulled over their faces. They exchanged a glance as he stirred, one scribbling something on a clipboard.
"He's awake," said the female doctor, her voice crisp, almost clinical.
The male doctor leaned in closer, studying him with narrowed eyes. "Do you understand where you are?" His voice was cold, probing.
He swallowed, his throat raw and dry. Everything felt jumbled, his mind hazy. The images from before still clung to him—blood, screams, death. But here, in this bright, sterile room, it was hard to know what was real.
"Can you hear us?" the female doctor pressed, her voice harder now. "We need to know what you remember."
He took a shaky breath, staring at them both. " What do I remember? " Fragments floated through his mind: late nights in the lab, endless calculations, the urgent warnings he'd ignored. And then the project.
The male doctor's voice sliced through his thoughts. "What can you tell us about Project X7?"Â