"Joko? Pak Joko, can you hear me?" Dimas hissed, his voice dropping an octave as the flashlight beam flickered once, twice, and then died entirely in the pitch-black void beneath the floorboards.Silence answered him. Not even the dry, raspy sound of the old man’s breathing remained. Just a heavy, suffocating stillness that smelled intensely of wet earth, iron, and rotting timber."Dimas, what happened?" Alina asked, dropping to her knees beside him, her fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeve with enough force to bruise. "Why did the light go out? Did he drop the torch?""He didn't drop it," Dimas muttered, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of his neck despite the freezing air in the apartment. "The beam just... snuffed out. Like something swallowed it."Without another word, Dimas flattened his chest against the splintered linoleum, ignoring the jagged edges of the broken floorboards biting into his ribs. He plunged his right arm deep into the square opening of the cra

"Alina, step back!" Dimas barked, scrambling over the tangled limbs of Pak Joko to reach the edge of the living room archway.The reinforced packing tape binding the center seam of the glass balcony door strained, bowing inward under an invisible, massive pressure. A sharp, high-pitched screech—like steel scraping against dry slate—echoed through the apartment. Without warning, a long, razor-thin appendage punched straight through the rubber window seal at the base of the frame, slicing through the thick glass like a hot wire through wax.Alina didn't hesitate. She lunged forward with the kitchen knife, driving the blade downward with both hands into the intruding grey mass."Get out of our home!" she screamed, a fierce, primal fury breaking through her usual composed demeanor.The blade sank deep, but instead of dark blood or hollow air, the severed appendage instantly reacted with violent biology. The tip of the limb didn't bleed red; it oozed a thick, churning grey sludge that smel

"Close the door! Seal the gap at the bottom with the towels, do it now!" Dimas barked, his voice cracking as he shoved Pak Joko and Siti’s children into the cramped, windowless bathroom."I'm trying, I'm trying!" Alina gasped, snatching a wet bath towel from the rack and aggressively jamming it into the narrow crack beneath the wooden door. The acrid stench of melting linoleum and burning copper still hung heavy in the air, stinging their eyes, but the thick, grey fumes were momentarily blocked by the solid core door of Unit 17B’s tiny sanitation block.Inside, the space was brutally intimate. Six people—four adults and two shivering children—were crammed into a room barely large enough for a bathtub, a toilet, and a sink. Siti sat slumped against the porcelain tub, her youngest child curled tightly in her lap, the toddler’s breathing raspy and weak. Pak Joko leaned heavily against the tiled wall, his eyes half-closed, clutching his bruised ankle with a low, constant groan.Dimas slum

"Forget the code, Alina, the code died when the pantry hit zero," Dimas rasped, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at the sparse, grey water in the bowl. "There's nothing left to calculate. No variables, no margins.""We stick to the distribution plan or we stop pretending this is a group," Siti said, her voice dropping to a harsh, exhausted whisper. She pushed the ceramic bowl back toward the center of the toilet lid. "My boys ate an hour ago. Alina, take your share of the broth. I mean it."Alina opened her mouth to argue, her jaw tightening defensively, but a sudden, violent spasm of coughing from Siti’s eldest cut her off instantly."Just drink the salt water, both of you, before the kids start crying again," Pak Joko muttered from his corner against the tiled wall, his head lolling back against the cool porcelain. "Arguing over a drop of broth won't put fat back on our ribs. Save the breath for when we have to stand up."Dimas stared at the old man, his chest tightening with a bitte

"You want to open the door?" Alina asked, her voice dropping an octave as she scrambled to her feet, her hands brushing the gritty dust from her jeans. "After we spent three days barricaded behind it?""We open it, or we die in this bathroom," Dimas said, his tone entirely level, stripping away any room for debate. He reached down, grabbing the splintered end of the mop handle that had served as their primary defense since the siege began. "The noise outside stopped because whatever was hunting us realized we weren't coming out to play. If we wait for them to break the wall again, we won't have the energy to lift a finger."Pak Joko didn't open his eyes, but his weathered hand came up, gripping the edge of the sink to hoist himself upright with a wet, grinding pop of his knee joints. "The boy is right. A cage is just a slow tomb with a better lock. Hand me that iron bracket from the shelf, Siti. Let's see how brave these ghosts are when the sun isn't hiding."Siti hesitated, her arms