The faint traces of life were barely there—so weak they seemed to flicker in and out, like they were teetering on the edge of death.
Ethan, curious, decided to follow the trail. He wandered alone down a quiet path in the neighborhood. The silence was eerie—there wasn't even a rat scurrying about.
The walk was uneventful. Nothing happened.
That is, until he reached a small plaza up ahead. The ground was smeared with dark, dried blood—clearly fresh, though. Something had gone down here, but what?
In the middle of the plaza, a few people were sprawled out on the ground, completely motionless. They looked like corpses, but the faint life force Ethan had sensed earlier was coming from them.
"Unconscious?" he muttered to himself.
He stepped closer to check. Among the group, there were both men and women. One of them was wearing a white lab coat, with an ID badge hanging from their chest.
It read: Santa Clarita Shelter Research Staff.
