Before looking through the peephole, Nathan had prepared himself for many possibilities, but definitely not for what he found: a person leaning against the neighbor's door.
Through the peephole, all he could see was the back of the figure, hunched over in an awkward posture. They looked tired, as if on the verge of collapse, but not injured. At least, from that angle, Nathan couldn't make out anything that suggested a wound.
Nathan waited a few more seconds, watching in complete silence, expecting something to happen. But nothing did. The person remained still, making no sound and no movement. Finally, he stepped back from the door and turned toward Jake.
"It's nothing, just a person," Nathan whispered, trying to sound calm.
Jake eyed him with suspicion, his brow furrowed.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
Nathan nodded.
"Yeah, they're just there, leaning against the neighbor's door."
Jake crossed his arms, clearly uneasy.
"They're not acting strange? Nothing out of the ordinary?"
Nathan shook his head, though a flicker of doubt crossed his face.
"No… doesn't seem like it. They just look tired, or maybe drunk."
Jake pressed his lips together, his gaze fixed on the door. His hands stayed tense, as if ready for anything.
"Do you think they were running from those infected people?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Nathan hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Could be… but I'm not sure."
Jake exhaled deeply, his posture still rigid.
"Should we check if they're okay?"
Nathan raised a hand, gesturing for him to wait.
"Let me take another look, just to make sure nothing's off."
He approached the door again, taking a deep breath to steady himself before leaning in to look through the peephole once more. He knew Jake was standing behind him, watching with the same tension that gripped his own chest.
But what Nathan didn't expect was that, as soon as he pressed his face to the door to peer through, the figure he had just seen standing still was now staring directly into the peephole. Their pale, lifeless eyes locked onto his, as if they had been waiting for him all along.
Nathan couldn't hold back a strangled gasp as he stumbled back. His heart raced in his chest, and in his haste to get away, he tripped over his own feet. He fell to the floor with a loud thud that echoed through the apartment, sending a sharp pain shooting up his back.
Jake reacted immediately, rushing over to him.
"What happened? Why'd you fall?" he asked, kneeling beside Nathan to help him up.
Nathan, still gasping from the shock, leaned against the wall as he tried to catch his breath.
"I don't know… When I looked again, their face was right up against the peephole."
Jake stared at him seriously, his voice urgent.
"Did you see their face? Were they hurt? Anything strange?"
Nathan shook his head, running a hand over his face.
"No, I… I got scared. I didn't pay attention."
Jake gritted his teeth, clearly frustrated.
"Damn it. That's—" he started to say, but stopped abruptly when a sharp sound interrupted him.
Both of them turned their heads at the same time, staring at the door. The noise had been brief but loud, like something striking the wood.
Nothing else followed, but the silence that lingered afterward felt even more unsettling. The two of them stayed still, their eyes fixed on the door, waiting.
The thud came again. This time it was louder, and they could both clearly see the door to Nathan's apartment shudder slightly from the impact.
Before either of them could say a word, the sound came again, followed by another, and another. The force behind the blows was growing, and the echo of each impact filled the apartment.
Jake stepped forward, his posture alert.
"They're hitting the door…" he muttered, as if saying it out loud would confirm he wasn't imagining things.
Nathan slowly pushed himself to his feet, leaning against the wall. His back still ached, but the fear coursing through him was far stronger than any physical pain.
"What do we do?" he asked, though he didn't really expect Jake to have an answer.
The pounding continued, each blow more insistent than the last, as though whoever—or whatever—was on the other side of the door was determined to break through.
The noise was deafening, and with every strike, Nathan felt his own heartbeat quicken, matching the rhythm of the relentless blows.
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The intervals between the blows grew shorter and shorter until the impacts became constant, crashing against the door with increasing force. The echo reverberated through the small apartment, and both friends' faces turned pale.
Nathan felt his chest tighten, as if an invisible hand were squeezing it with relentless pressure. A look of pure fear took over his face as the relentless pounding made it clear that nothing good could come of this.
Jake, visibly anxious but resolute, was the first to react. He threw himself against the door, pressing his body against it to reinforce it.
"Quick, Nathan, find something to defend ourselves with!" he shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.
Nathan didn't need to be told twice. He spun on his heels and bolted toward the kitchen, his legs trembling slightly with every step. He yanked open the drawer of utensils and grabbed the largest knives he could find. Without pausing to think, he hurried back to Jake, his breathing fast and uneven.
"Give me one," Jake demanded, his tone firm, almost commanding, as he kept his weight against the doorframe like his life depended on it.
Nathan handed him one of the knives, his fingers brushing against Jake's briefly. Then, his voice trembling slightly, he asked:
"We won't… we won't attack if it's just a normal person, right?"
Jake glanced over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and disbelief.
"Do you think a normal person would try to break into someone else's house like this?"
Nathan swallowed hard, his mind scrambling to find an explanation that made sense.
"No, but… maybe they're scared. They could be running from the attacks happening in the city," he replied, trying to sound calm even as his heart pounded furiously in his chest.
For a few moments, Jake didn't say anything. The only sound filling the silence was the constant banging on the door, as if whatever was on the other side was determined to get in no matter what.
Finally, Jake broke the silence, his tone severe:
"I'm going to look through the peephole again to see if there's anything strange about this person. If they're injured or… something's off, we'll wait for them to leave—or we'll make them leave."
The cold finality in Jake's last words hung in the air, heavy and unmistakable. Nathan nodded slowly, unable to find the right words to respond.
Jake took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he approached the door once again. His body was taut, every muscle bracing for the worst. He leaned forward, pressing his eye to the small glass peephole. What he saw on the other side froze him in place.
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Paralyzed by the horror of the scene, Jake squeezed his eyes shut and pulled away from the peephole, unable to keep looking. His body remained rigid, but his hands trembled faintly.
Nathan noticed the immediate change in his friend. Jake stood motionless, his breathing had turned erratic, and it was clear that fear had struck him hard.
"What is it? What did you see?" Nathan asked, his voice tense, though he already dreaded the answer.
Jake didn't respond right away. The only sound in the room was the relentless pounding on the door, as if the intruder was determined to break it down.
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Nathan watched as Jake shuddered for a moment, saying nothing, though his concern grew as he saw the state his friend was in. He decided to wait patiently for Jake to explain what he had seen. But seconds turned into minutes, and when more than five minutes had passed without a word, unease began to take hold of him.
"Hey, man… are you okay?" Nathan asked, his voice low but filled with concern as he slowly stepped closer.
Hearing his friend's voice seemed to snap Jake out of his trance. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head stiffly to look at him. It was as if every movement required immense effort. His eyes still reflected fear, and his face, pale as paper, showed something far worse than uncertainty.
When Nathan saw his friend's expression, his heart sank. Jake wasn't someone who scared easily. But this time, something had shaken him to his core. Nathan quickly stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Jake's shoulder in an attempt to steady him.
"What did you see?" he asked calmly, though inside he could feel the anxiety building in his chest.
At first, Jake didn't respond. His lips trembled slightly, but no words came out. He simply stared at Nathan with hollow eyes, as if struggling to find a way to explain. Nathan took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his composure. He knew that if he lost control, his friend might spiral further into fear.
Finally, Jake spoke, his voice barely a trembling whisper:
"It… it's not… human."
Nathan frowned, a chill running down his spine.
"What do you mean?" he asked, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible, though he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end with every word.
Jake averted his gaze, shaking his head as if trying to process what he had seen. Then, he gestured weakly toward the door with his hand.
"Look for yourself… and you'll understand."
Without saying another word, Jake walked into the living room. His steps were heavy, as though it took all his strength just to move. He collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the cushions with a long, shaky sigh.
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Nathan watched Jake with concern, but he knew he couldn't help his friend until he understood what had shaken him so deeply. Swallowing hard, he turned toward the door. His breathing grew uneven as he approached the peephole, each step feeling heavier than the last. Finally, he leaned in and pressed his eye against the small glass.
The scene that greeted him was grotesque. On the other side, the figure was slamming against the door repeatedly with jerky, uncoordinated movements. The person was clearly in a state that defied all logic. Part of their face was torn apart, exposing flesh, tendons, and even bone in certain areas. There was a deep bite near their chin, the skin around it swollen and tinged with a sickly greenish-gray that suggested infection—or something far worse.
But it was their eyes that terrified him the most: swollen veins spread across the whites of their eyes, and the sclera was stained a dark red, as if blood had mixed with the fluid inside their eyeballs. They weren't fully red, but the hue was so unnatural it made them seem devoid of any humanity.
Nathan felt his stomach drop as he continued to watch. Blood dripped from the open wound on their face, trailing to the ground in thin streams, but what unsettled him more was the way the intruder was slamming against the door. There was no emotion in their movements—no desperation, no logic—just a mechanical persistence, as if they were a machine incapable of exhaustion.
He pulled back from the peephole abruptly, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Now he understood why Jake had been so shaken. Whatever was on the other side of that door had no business still standing. It had no business still being alive.
Nathan stumbled back a few steps, trying to calm himself, and then followed Jake's lead. He walked over to the opposite couch and collapsed onto it, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face. His fingers trembled as they ran through his hair, a clear sign of his frustration and anxiety.
Jake lifted his gaze, watching him from his seat. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, their eyes meeting. There was no need to say anything aloud. In that instant, they both understood the same terrible truth: they had no idea what to do.
"What do we do now?" Jake finally asked, breaking the silence. His voice was low, heavy with exhaustion. He leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if he might find answers there.
Nathan couldn't respond immediately. His hands were still tangled in his hair, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hollow.
"I… I don't know."
His gaze dropped to the floor as he struggled to think of something—anything—that could help them escape their situation. But his mind was blank. Every passing second was punctuated by the relentless pounding on the door, a constant reminder that their peace was long gone.
The tranquility they had known just a few hours ago now felt like a distant memory, something that had vanished forever. Both of them now understood that their lives had changed irrevocably. Whatever was happening outside wasn't something they could ignore.
The world they had known no longer existed.
Everything had changed.