1st July 2026
In the harsh light of the new day.
I saw him—blood dried in dark streaks across his shirt, a piece of skin flapping loosely on his neck. Dark, bulging veins snaked across his face, like roots clawing their way to the surface. But the thing that terrified me most was his eyes. His pupils weren't still—they seemed to swirl and dissolve, creating new patterns with every twitch of his head. It was like watching a drop of black ink fall into a milky pool, the chaos folding into a different, disturbing design every moment.
Johan was gone. Whatever he had become, it wasn't him anymore.
Beneath the desk where I'd been hiding since yesterday, my body was locked in a paralysis of fear. He stood just beyond the glass door, his body unnervingly still except for the occasional growl, his grotesque eyes fixed on the room. He wasn't moving toward the noise outside or joining the chaos of the horde. He was waiting—for me.
Outside, the building pulsed with relentless sounds. Screams, crashes, and wet snarls echoed through the halls, unyielding and chaotic. Each noise sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through me. Stuffing my fingers into my ears barely helped. I felt like a child hiding from the monsters under my bed.
Time blurred as I sat frozen under the desk. The sunlight streaming through the windows dimmed, casting Johan's grotesque features into shadow. Night was coming again, but the sounds outside didn't fade. They grew sharper, more desperate.
And then, cutting through the cacophony, I heard it—the slow creak of a door opening.
The scream came next, sharp and desperate, slicing through the chaos like a knife. "Help! Please, someone, help!"
It was a girl. Her voice carried down the corridor, pleading, echoing. My heart clenched, but I stayed frozen. What could I do? Even if I wanted to save her, Johan was right there, motionless but poised like a predator.
The screams didn't stop. They went on and on until I couldn't tell if they were real or just ringing in my ears. Desperation gnawed at me, and I finally moved. My body protested with every shift—joints cracking like firecrackers after two days of being in the same position.
Johan reacted instantly. His growl deepened, and he slammed himself against the door, rattling it in his frenzy to get inside. I froze, holding my breath as he clawed at the glass, his eyes fixed on me. It took an agonizing fifteen minutes before he stopped and returned to his static, eerie stillness.
I crept to the side of the door, staying low. Through the Glassdoor, I could see the corridor. A group of zombies was clustered around the janitor's cupboard near the vending machine, their rotting bodies jerking and convulsing as they clawed at something.
Then I heard her again. "Help! Please, help me!"
She was alive—somehow she had survived this long. But her screams drew attention. The thudding of footsteps began, heavy and fast. My stomach dropped as the sound grew louder, closer. The horde was coming.
I didn't need to see them to know there were too many—more than I could count. They stormed down the corridor like an unstoppable wave, their sheer speed and numbers shaking the floor. They didn't stop. The first zombies smashed into the janitor's cupboard and vending machine, but those behind couldn't slow down, forcing everything forward.
The vending machine toppled, crashing through the glass windows, and then they came—zombies, debris, and all—plunging out of the building.
The girl's screams were drowned out by the chaos. I couldn't see her anymore, and in that rush, that avalanche of bodies and destruction, no one could have survived.
Johan was gone, swept away by the sudden, relentless tide of the zombie horde. Maybe for good. But a small part of me wouldn't let go of the thought that this wasn't the end of him. His shadow lingered, vivid in my mind, as if he were still out there, waiting—watching.
The horde didn't last long. They kept falling for a few more seconds, a grotesque cascade of flesh and fury. Then they stopped, drawn by the noise of the chaos they'd created below. The distant rumble of their descent echoed up the stairwell as they charged toward some new distraction.
A few stragglers remained, shuffling aimlessly, their heads tilting at every faint creak of the building. I stayed pressed against the corridor wall, holding my breath, counting the seconds between their movements. Every step they took felt like a countdown to my end.
I willed them to leave. Begged silently. And one by one, they wandered away, their groans fading into the distance.
The corridor fell quiet again, the kind of quiet that wasn't peaceful. The air hung heavy, broken only by the thud of my heartbeat. I stayed there, slumped against the wall, waiting for something—anything—to feel safe. But safety didn't come.
As the adrenaline ebbed, exhaustion dragged me down. My body felt like it belonged to someone else, every muscle stiff and uncooperative. I curled into myself, resting my head against the cold, cracked wall. My eyes began to close despite the gnawing fear.
Even as sleep took me, the silence wasn't comforting. It felt alive, crawling into my thoughts, dragging Johan back into my mind. In this world, silence carried its own kind of terror.
And I had no choice but to live with it.