Clarice stared at the sun as she stepped foot off the property she once called home or, home base. The familiar routine of her father going out for supply runs every month was shattered, it had been two days since her father failed to come home at 0600. She left behind the dense forest and her hidden world, her hidden compound where she was raised, she didn't know where to go, all she could do was follow the tire tracks of her father's truck, he only used for those what Clarice thought were stupid supply runs now. She was taught to track before she could even walk and she knew 5 different ways to kill an enemy before the age of 12. Clarice fixed her amber red eyes on the tracks, she followed closely until she reached the end of the forest. Her breath hitched, she looked out beyond the trees and she hesitated, "I shouldn't," she thought, fear - that feeling that always stopped her from making her father proud before - crept up her throat. She clenched her fist tightly, her knuckles turning her caramel skin white. She stared down the narrow dirt road and took a deep breath, before she took a step onto the dirt road, her legs shook before she grounded herself, "Fear is weakness," she said to herself.

The world outside the compound was a stark contrast to the controlled environment she was accustomed to. Ruined buildings, overgrown vegetation, and an eerie silence enveloped the landscape.

Her amber-red eyes scanned the desolate scene, a mixture of fear and determination etched on her face. She knew that the world beyond the compound was dangerous, but she had no choice. Her father's disappearance had ignited a fire within her.

As she ventured deeper into the city, her senses were assaulted by the sights and smell of decay. Ruined buildings, abandoned vehicles, and the occasional scavenging animal were a stark reminder of the world's decline. The air was thick with the scent of decay and the distant rumble of thunder. She stared into the now dark sky, the thunder a reflection in her eyes, it was silent, too silent and even she knew that, nothing was that silent, especially since she didn't know what dangers lurked here, this scene was much too different from what her late mother described as a place full of life, abundance; families, children. There was none of that, just an eerie silence and the smell of death.

The sky started to trickle water, droplets running down her face and hair. She stumbled upon a large, imposing structure. It was once white, futuristic building now cracked and marred, broken glass littered the ground. She cautiously continued into the dark building.

As she drew closer, she heard the faint sound of alarms blaring from within. She sucked in a breath, continuing down the dark hallways of this now trashed building. She reached behind her waist for her knife in her back holster. Aside from the alarms, this building was eerily quiet, no movement.

Down one of the hallways, she stared at these plain white walls, all scuffed by what smelled like blood, so much of it. Clarice reached what looked like a control room of sorts, scanning the room till she landed on a room that looked... not disturbed in a way? She steadied herself as she walked over broken desks, chairs, and shards of glass. Clarice grabbed the silver handle of this door, resistance, it wouldn't open.

With a surge of adrenaline, she forced her way inside, the metal door breaking off its hinges. The interior was a chaotic mess, equipment strewn about and shattered glass crunching beneath her feet. The air was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals, and a low hum filled the room. She moved through the wreckage, her senses alert. Inside, she found a young man, cowering in the corner. His face was pale and his eyes wide with fear. She quickly took her knife out of its sheath, approaching the man with speed. The man didn't move, he didn't even have time to scream. Clarice kicked this already down man in the chest and pinned him against the floor with her boot.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice loud and sharp.

The man, startled, looked up at her. "My name is Finn!" he stammered, his voice barely audible. "Finn Aponte... I'm a worker here!" He struggled underneath the pressure of her leg. Clarice pressed her boot harder into Finn's chest, her amber-red eyes narrowing as she studied his face. "What happened here?" she hissed, her knife glinting in the dim light.

Finn's eyes darted around nervously, his breath coming in short gasps. "They came... they killed everyone," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I hid... I'm the only one left."

"Who?" Clarice demanded, her grip on the knife tightening. "Who killed everyone?"

Finn's eyes widened, a mix of guilt and terror flashing across his face. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "The infected," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "They... they were once human. We created them."

Clarice's grip on her knife loosened slightly, confusion replacing the anger in her eyes. "What do you mean, 'created'? Infected with what?!" she demanded. 

Finn took a shaky breath, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm a virologist. We were working on a cure for cancer, or at least that's what we thought. Dr. Eliza Blackwood, she was the head scientist. She told us we were close to a breakthrough, but she lied. She tricked us all."

Clarice's brow furrowed, her mind racing to process this information. She pushed her foot down harder on Finn's chest.

Clarice's mind reeled, a storm of emotions she had never experienced before crashing over her. Confusion, anger, and a deep-seated fear she couldn't name swirled within her, threatening to overwhelm her carefully honed control. Her amber-red eyes blazed with an intensity that made Finn flinch beneath her boot.

"Explain," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Now."

Finn's words spilled out in a frantic torrent, each revelation more horrifying than the last. He spoke of genetic manipulation, of viruses engineered to rewrite human DNA, of experiments gone terribly wrong. As he talked, Clarice's world seemed to tilt on its axis, everything she thought she knew crumbling around her. Clarice's anger boiled over as Finn continued his desperate explanation. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her knife, her amber-red eyes blazing with fury. "You're telling me that you and your team created monsters? That you unleashed this... this plague on the world?" she snarled, pressing her boot harder into Finn's chest. Finn gasped for air, his face contorted in pain and fear. "We didn't know! We thought we were saving lives, not destroying them!" he pleaded, tears streaming down his face.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the corridor outside the room. "Hello? Is anyone there? I need help!" The voice sounded human, desperate even, but there was something off about it. A slight rasp, an unnatural cadence that sent chills down Clarice's spine.

Clarice's head snapped back at Finn, she knelt down on him and brought her knife close to his face, Clarice's face serious as she whispered. "What kinda fucking game are you playing, who else is here?". Finn stuttered as he spoke, "I have no idea, I swear! I thought I was the only one left.." Clarice's face stayed serious, she got up, the fallen gravel from the ceiling crunching underneath her boots, she inhaled and exhaled remaining calm as she stepped off Finn. "You move and you die." Clarice bit the inside of her cheek, flipping her knife in her hand as she walked towards where the voice was. "Hello? Is anyone here? I need help, I'm hurt!" Clarice studied the voice, there it was again, it seemed so.. off. Clarice put her back to the wall, looking out the door above her left shoulder, this.. this voice that was calling out for help was eating. Eating these dead bodies of these poor people that had been killed. "What the fuck" she mouthed as her heart raced in her chest, she didn't know how to act, what she was seeing wasn't a person, it was something a lot worse..