May 17, 2032. New York City. 4:37 PM.
Adrian Vale stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of his office building, holding a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. Manhattan was as busy as ever, but an unsettling tension hung in the air.
Ever since the news of the "Red Plague" virus broke out a month ago, the world had been in turmoil. Officials insisted the outbreak was contained and "fully under control," but social media told a different story—lockdowns, riots, entire neighborhoods vanishing overnight...
Adrian was just an ordinary office worker, accustomed to his routine life. But today, there was something in the air that made his skin crawl.
His phone buzzed, and the company group chat exploded with messages.
[Mike (Marketing)]: "Something's happening downstairs! People are running like crazy!"
[Sarah (Admin)]: "Oh my God, security told us to stay inside the office!"
[Kevin (Tech)]: "News says the virus mutated. Infection rate is ten times faster than expected!"
[Boss]: "Everyone, leave the building NOW! Work from home. Don't take the elevators. RUN!"
Adrian's chest tightened. He rushed to the window, and that's when he saw it—
The street was descending into chaos.
People were screaming. Some collapsed. Others convulsed violently on the pavement, their bodies twitching unnaturally.
His eyes locked onto a well-dressed man in a suit. The man was on the ground, writhing in agony, blood bubbling from his mouth. Then, after a few horrifying seconds, he suddenly stopped moving.
And then—he stood up.
But something was wrong.
His neck twisted at an unnatural angle, his jaw hung open, and his bloodshot eyes were void of reason. Like a rabid animal, he lunged at a nearby pedestrian, sinking his teeth deep into flesh.
"Shit…" Adrian whispered, his heart pounding.
This wasn't the flu.
This wasn't a normal outbreak.
This was—the end of the world.
Screams erupted behind him. The office was spiraling into chaos. Adrian bolted out of his cubicle, racing for the emergency stairs—elevators were death traps.
But as he reached the 17th floor, he heard something below.
A wet, sickening crunch.
Holding his breath, he peeked over the railing.
The flickering stairwell lights revealed two figures crouched over a lifeless body, their hands and mouths stained with blood. Smears of red covered the walls, and the air reeked of iron and death.
Adrian's stomach twisted, but he didn't dare make a sound.
Slowly, he backed away, turned, and sprinted back upstairs.
Going down wasn't an option… He panted, his mind racing.
He needed to find a safe place. A way out.
But the real problem was—
The entire world might already be hell.