Concrete Veins

Chapter 6: Awakened

12:07 AM – Dockside District, West Hangar 17

The stale air inside Hangar 17 was thick with the smell of rust, oil, and something metallic—like blood lingering on steel. Dorian’s boots thudded softly against the cracked concrete floor, every step echoing too loudly in the cavernous space. He held the girl in his arms with a tenderness that felt out of place in this brutal world, but necessary nonetheless.

Her name was Rhea.

Her head lolled slightly, eyes fluttering open and closing again like a fragile bird caught in a storm. Tubes and wires still hung from her pale, shaven scalp, and the faint, eerie blue glow in her eyes flickered dimly—like a dying star struggling not to fade away.

Dorian could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his chest, shallow and weak. She was more machine than girl now, a victim of the Legacy Protocol’s ruthless experiments.

And yet, she was alive.

A sudden crackle of static shattered the heavy silence. The overhead intercom came alive, the voice cold, clipped, and dripping with malice.

“Leaving so soon, Cross?”

Dorian’s jaw tightened, and his grip on Rhea involuntarily hardened.

Voss.

The name alone sent a familiar chill racing down his spine.

“Voss,” Dorian spat back, voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t a game. Step aside.”

The reply was a bitter chuckle, the sound reverberating off the metal walls like a predator’s growl.

“Not this time. You woke them.”

As if on cue, the dim overhead lights flickered violently before plunging the hangar into complete darkness.

For a moment, Dorian’s world narrowed to the rapid beat of his own heart and the ragged breaths escaping his lungs. He could hear faint shuffling, whispered noises, and a deep, guttural hum vibrating from somewhere deep within the hangar.

Then came the low growl—a sound that was neither fully human nor animal. A sound that sent cold dread straight to his gut.

Dorian instinctively moved closer to the shadows behind the rusted shipping containers, eyes straining to adjust.

The flickering emergency lights sputtered back to life, revealing figures emerging from the darkness.

Not guards. Not normal people.

They were the “awakened” — test subjects from the Legacy Protocol.

Their movements were jerky, mechanical—limbs twitching as if puppet strings pulled at their muscles. Their skin was pallid, stretched tight over hard bone, and their eyes glowed with that same unnatural blue light as Rhea’s, faint but unmistakable.

One of them lunged suddenly, aiming for Jay, who barely had time to raise his crackling stun baton. The creature collided with a metal crate, snarling and slithering to its feet, eyes burning with feral hatred.

Jay’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Guess the party’s started! I was hoping for chips and dip, but sure, glowing zombie experiments work too.”

Dorian managed a grim smile despite the growing panic clawing at his chest.

The creature lunged again, faster this time.

Dorian dove forward, slamming his elbow into its ribs and forcing it back. It snarled, then jerked violently before retreating into the darkness with a low, inhuman hiss.

“Stay close,” Dorian ordered, moving toward the far wall where the exit lay.

Rhea’s grip on his wrist tightened suddenly.

“Wait,” she whispered, voice hoarse but urgent. Her glowing eyes locked on his. “They remember. They hate.”

Dorian’s blood ran cold.

“Remember what?” he asked sharply.

“They’re not just broken. They’re alive. More than alive. The serum changed them—body and mind. Some of them… embraced it.”

Jay, panting, glanced between the glowing figures and their desperate escape route. “Super soldiers or brainwashed psychos? Because at this point, I’m not sure which is worse.”

Dorian didn’t answer. Instead, he focused on the path ahead—cold metal stairs leading up to a side exit bathed in moonlight.

“We move now,” Dorian said.

Jay gave him a cocky grin, despite the tension. “Finally, my moment to shine. I was beginning to think all those years of hacking were just for nerd cred.”

Dorian allowed himself a brief smirk.

They moved fast—dodging snapping jaws, glowing eyes, and the eerie sounds of mechanical limbs twitching with terrible purpose.

Rhea clung to Dorian like a lifeline, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

They reached the stairs.

Just as Dorian stepped up, a heavy crash echoed behind them. Jay stumbled, nearly falling as a twisted arm lashed out from the darkness and grabbed at his throat.

Dorian whirled, slamming his boot into the creature’s side. It released Jay with a strangled growl and retreated with a snarl.

“Go!” Dorian shouted, hauling Rhea up the stairs.

Outside, the cold night air hit them like a wall—salt-sweet and sharp.

The docks stretched before them, deserted and bathed in silver moonlight. The distant clang of shipping cranes and the faint hum of electricity in the air were oddly calming.

But there was no time to rest.

Behind them, the heavy hangar doors slammed shut with a reverberating clang that shook the ground beneath their feet.

Dorian looked back just in time to see Voss’s shadow loom in the doorway, voice booming over the silence.

“You think this ends here? You’re trapped, Cross.”

Rhea, still trembling in his arms, whispered, “They’re awake now. And they’re coming for all of us.”

Dorian’s jaw clenched.

“We’re not done yet.”

The distant wail of sirens pierced the night.

Dorian glanced up at the starless sky, feeling the weight of the night settle over him.

The hunt was only beginning.