2025-10-14 22:51:38Wilson could still remember the world before the fall. Before the screams. Before the sky turned red and the streets filled with running feet and blood.
There had been love once. Laughter. Dreams. People worrying about silly things, like deadlines, paychecks, and the weekend. But that was all gone now.
Now, the only hope left for humanity was his small team, the last people willing to fight back, and Wilson had sworn one thing: ‘Whatever it takes, we’ll survive.’
“Katie! Run!” Wilson shouted, his voice echoing through the shaking building. “If you want to live, you better run with me!”
His lungs burned, his heart thudded against his ribs, but he didn’t stop. The office hallways were filled with chaos, overturned chairs, flickering lights, and the horrible sound of people screaming.
“Wilson!” Katie gasped, her hand clutching his arm. “I can’t keep up! Please slow down!”
Her breath came in short bursts, her chest heaving. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the dust that filled the air.
Wilson turned, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. “If you don’t run, you’ll die, Katie! I can’t lose you!”
He grabbed her trembling hand, pulling her along as they pushed past fallen bodies, their co-workers, people they had laughed with only hours ago.
Wilson tried not to look at their faces. Tried not to think about how pale and still they looked.
He could feel Katie shaking beside him. Her palms were slick with sweat. Her eyes, once warm and full of life, now looked hollow. Lost.
And as they stumbled down the corridor, Wilson’s mind flashed back to where it all began.
It had started like any other miserable day. Rain hammered against the office windows, gray clouds smothering the city in gloom.
Wilson sat hunched over his desk, eyes heavy, staring at the endless pile of reports. He rubbed his temple and sighed. “Another night stuck here. Great. Just great.”
He glanced at the clock. 10:47 p.m.
The rain outside didn’t look like it was stopping anytime soon. “I should’ve quit,” he muttered. “Anything’s better than this soul-sucking job. Even a slave camp sounds more peaceful than this.”
From the other side of the cubicle, a cheerful voice called, “Lighten up, Wilson! I know you want to kill yourself, but at least wait until the project’s done!”
Wilson groaned and looked up. “Katie, you’re seriously the worst. You can’t even let me die in peace, huh?”
Katie grinned, flipping through her stack of papers. Her long hair fell over her shoulder, and her eyes sparkled despite the exhaustion. She was the kind of person who smiled even when the world was falling apart, literally.
“I don’t hate you, Wilson,” she said playfully. “I just don’t want to do all the work alone. Besides, your board game from last weekend almost killed me with boredom. I’m saving my life by keeping you busy.”
Wilson gave her a half-smile. “You said you liked it.”
“I lied,” she said, laughing. “You’re terrible at picking games.”
Despite himself, Wilson chuckled. Working late nights wasn’t so bad when Katie was around.
She made things lighter, easier, even fun, but that night, the laughter didn’t last long.
Jamie, the head of their project department, had come in late from outside. His suit was drenched from the rain, and his skin looked pale, almost gray.
“Rough weather, huh?” Wilson said when Jamie passed by. But Jamie didn’t reply. He just scratched his arm, muttering under his breath.
Wilson noticed the rash spreading up Jamie’s neck. It looked raw, red, wrong.
In the next hour, Jamie went to the bathroom five times. Each time he came back, he looked worse.
“Wilson,” Katie whispered, leaning close. “Something’s wrong with him. That’s not normal.”
Wilson sighed. “You’re overthinking. He’s probably allergic to something in the rain.”
Katie frowned. “Allergic? He looks like he’s dying!”
Wilson didn’t answer. He just kept typing, pretending the growing unease in his chest wasn’t there.
By midnight, the only sounds in the office were the hum of computers and the pounding of the rain. Then, silence.
Jamie had stopped moving. Katie’s whisper cut through the quiet. “Wilson… he’s not breathing.”
Wilson’s fingers froze. He looked up. Jamie’s head was resting on his desk. His hand hung limply over the edge. “Jamie?” Katie called softly. No response.
Helen, one of their co-workers, rolled her eyes. “Ugh, he probably passed out again. Lazy as ever.” She marched toward him. “Jamie! Wake up, you idiot!”
Wilson stood. “Helen, wait. Something’s not right.”
Too late. Helen shook Jamie’s shoulder, and then the room changed forever.
Jamie’s head snapped up. His eyes were milky white, lifeless. His lips trembled, and for one awful second, he just stared at Helen, then he lunged.
His teeth sank into her neck with a horrible crunch. Blood sprayed across the desk, splattering the papers, the keyboard, the floor.
Helen screamed, a raw, piercing sound that echoed across the entire office. “Jesus, !” Wilson stumbled back, knocking over his chair. Katie shrieked and covered her mouth.
Jamie didn’t stop. He tore into Helen’s flesh like a starving animal, his growls deep and animalistic. “Run!” Wilson grabbed Katie’s arm, pulling her away. “Now!”
The others in the office froze, unsure if what they were seeing was real. Then Helen’s body hit the floor, and Jamie turned to them, blood dripping down his chin. He hissed, and the world went mad.
People screamed. Some ran, others froze in shock. Desks crashed to the ground as chaos filled the room.
Wilson pulled Katie behind him, scanning for an exit. His heart was racing so fast he could barely think. “This way! The stairs!”
Jamie, or whatever he had become, turned his head toward them, eyes empty but locked on the sound of their voices.
His jaw twitched. His body moved in jerks, like a puppet. “Wilson!” Katie cried. “He’s coming!”
Wilson turned, and saw more people stumbling from the far end of the hallway. Their movements were stiff. Wrong.
Their eyes were the same milky white as Jamie’s. “Oh, no…” Wilson whispered. “It’s not just him.”
He gripped Katie’s hand tighter and ran. Behind them, the screams grew louder, and the sound of feet shuffling, faster now, closer.
They burst into the stairwell, the emergency lights flickering weakly. The air smelled of metal and something else, something rotten.
Katie’s breath came in ragged sobs. “Wilson… what’s happening to them?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But we can’t stay here.”
The lights above them flickered again, and then died, plunging everything into darkness.
A low moan echoed from below the stairs. Wilson froze. Katie whispered, her voice trembling. “Wilson… please tell me that’s the wind.”
He didn’t answer. Because it wasn’t.
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Chapter 9: Ray of Hope
The night was quiet, but not peaceful. The kind of silence that carried tension, the kind that made even the smallest sound echo like thunder in the dark.Wilson’s eyes snapped open at the faint sound of his name being whispered. “Wilson.”He shot up, his hand gripping his axe out of instinct. His breathing was sharp, eyes scanning the dim corners of the room, ready to fight. His heart raced until his gaze landed on the familiar figure standing a few steps away. It was Sophia.The sight of her made him lower the axe a little, but the adrenaline in his veins didn’t settle immediately.“Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice calm but alert. He pushed himself up from the floor, brushing the dust off his sleeve.Sophia shook her head slowly. “No… I just couldn’t sleep. I wanted to see if you were awake, but it looks like I woke you up.”Her tone was soft, almost childlike, and the faint light from the hallway made her face look tired but gentle. Wilson stared for a second too long bef
Chapter 8. Eerie Feeling
It took Wilson nearly an hour to clear the fourth floor. His axe swung again and again, slicing through rotten flesh and splattering walls with dark stains. His breath came out in short gasps, and sweat dripped down his face. Yet, unlike before, his arms didn’t ache as much, and his movements were faster, sharper, almost too natural.He leaned against a wall, looking over the hallway covered in bodies. “They’re… weaker,” he muttered, panting. Then he frowned. “No… I’m just getting stronger.”That thought made him pause. Stronger, yes, but how far could it go? The System inside him seemed to grow with every fight, but he had no idea where it would stop.He looked toward the stairwell leading up. The air there was still and heavy. The higher floors had always been quiet, too quiet. “If I can move faster now,” he whispered, gripping his axe, “then I’ll check the offices on the seventh floor. Maybe someone’s still alive.”The thought of survivors filled him with a strange hope, but also
Chapter 7. Fate
Wilson walked quietly down the fourth-floor hallway, the air thick with dust and the smell of old blood. Every step echoed faintly against the broken tiles. He held his axe tightly, eyes scanning the shadows that stretched across the walls. The silence felt wrong, too heavy, too still. In this kind of world, silence only meant danger waiting to wake.He stopped for a second, listening. Somewhere far off, a pipe dripped water. Somewhere else, a faint groan echoed. Wilson’s fingers tightened on the axe handle. “Trouble’s coming,” he thought. “It always does.”“Wilson?”He turned sharply. Sophia’s voice broke through the still air. She stood behind him, her face pale but kind, one arm wrapped protectively around the small boy beside her. “Yeah?” he asked, lowering his weapon slightly.Sophia looked nervous, glancing at Kevin. The boy’s eyelids drooped heavily. His small hand clutched the edge of her torn jacket. “Kelvin is getting tired,” she said softly. “I don’t want to be a bother,
Chapter 6. Pacing Through
The hallway stretched ahead, dim and cold, filled with the smell of dust and faint rot. Wilson took a deep breath and looked at the woman walking beside him. For the first time since everything went wrong, he didn’t feel completely alone. He had met Sophia only a few minutes ago, but somehow it already felt like they’d known each other longer. She carried a small boy, Kevin, in her arms. The boy’s head rested on her shoulder, his small fingers gripping her jacket tightly.Wilson smiled faintly. “At least I’m not talking to myself anymore.”“Now,” he said, trying to sound calm, “since we’re already on the fifth floor, that means we have a good chance of getting out of here. We just need to be careful. No slip-ups. And hopefully,” he looked at her, “we won’t find zombies flooding the next floor.”Sophia nodded, her face calm though her hands trembled slightly. “All we have to do is follow you,” she said. “As long as we keep moving and don’t make too much noise, we’ll be fine.”Her voi
Chapter 5. New Allies!
Wilson moved through the quiet building, his boots echoing faintly against the dusty floor. The voices he had heard earlier were still somewhere ahead. He couldn’t tell exactly where, but they were close. His heart raced with a mix of worry and determination. If there were survivors, he had to find them.The fifth floor was darker than the rest. Broken lights flickered overhead, giving off weak flashes that made shadows dance on the walls. Wilson’s breathing was steady now; his body felt lighter, stronger than before. He could feel the energy running through his muscles like electricity. “Where are they?” he muttered under his breath, scanning the hallway.He dashed forward, faster than he ever remembered running in his life. It was like something inside him had unlocked a new level of speed and strength. Each step felt easy, almost too easy, then he heard it, a low growl. He stopped at the corner of the hall and peeked around. His eyes widened. A group of zombies, at least forty
Chapter 4. Rebirth
Wilson opened his eyes slowly. For a moment, he couldn’t move. His head felt heavy, his body sore, and the smell of burned metal filled his nose. Sparks still danced around him from torn wires, blue and wild like angry snakes. He blinked several times. “I’m… alive?”The memory rushed back, the crash, the light, the pain, and then nothing. He pushed himself off the floor, groaning as his muscles protested. Around him, the room was dark except for the faint flicker of damaged bulbs and the hum of electric current.His eyes caught a sign above one of the power boxes. “1 MEGAWATT: HIGH VOLTAGE.”Wilson froze. “One… megawatt?” he whispered. “There’s no way I should still be alive.”He looked down at his trembling hands. His fingertips were blackened slightly, but his skin wasn’t burned. No blood. No wounds. Just a strange warmth spreading through his veins.The axe was still beside him, its blade reflecting the dim light. He picked it up, the wooden handle familiar and comforting in his
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