Steven Liu stared down at his phone, thumb hovering uselessly over the screen. No updates. His attention flicked up to Professor Chen, who paced the front of the classroom , running a hand through his graying hair again and again.
The room was packed—probably around 24 students, each with backpacks clutched to their chests like shields. This morning had started normally. Steven had rushed across campus, late as usual, slipping in just as Professor Chen finished introducing himself.
Then came the sudden thud.
Heavy. Loud. Fists slamming against the door hard enough to rattle the frame.
The defense studio door was designed to lock automatically from the inside unless opened with a key. One of the students nearest the entrance hesitated, then stepped forward anyway.
"I'll get it," he said.
The door cracked open.
A blur of motion—then a scream.
The student was yanked violently into the hallway. A woman shoved her way inside, slamming the door shut behind her with shaking hands.
She was middle-aged, disheveled, blood smeared across her sleeves. Steven recognized her instantly.
Ms. Wilston. University staff.
Outside, the screaming didn't stop.
"What is going on?" Professor Chen demanded, moving toward her. "Why did you—"
"Shut up!" Ms. Wilston shrieked. "There's an attack happening right now. We have to stay inside!"
The room erupted into whispers and protests. Confused voices overlapping.
Steven makes his way toward the narrow window beside the door.
"You pulled a student out just to save yourself?" he snapped.
Ms. Wilston rounded on him, eyes wild. "Is that how you speak to an adult?"
Steven didn't answer.
He was staring through the glass.
Blood smeared the hallway floor in dark, sticky streaks. The student who had opened the door lay on his back, chest torn open. His eyes were wide, unfocused.
On top of him—students.
They clawed and tore at him with frantic strength, mouths red, movements jerky and wrong. One of them looked up suddenly, face unrecognizable beneath gore, and smashed its head repeatedly against the glass.
"What the—" Steven breathed.
Professor Chen rushed to the window.
Then another student.
Then everyone.
The room exploded.
Screams filled the air. People sobbed, shouted prayers, slammed fists against walls. Someone vomited. Another student collapsed to the floor, hyperventilating.
Then—silence.
Present.
Steven's phone buzzed weakly—10% battery. Still no messages. He exhaled deeply before shutting it off. No point draining it faster.
His fingers tightened around the recurve bow resting against his leg.
Steven was part of the University's Archery team. They'd been preparing for the winter tournament—hours of drills, sore shoulders, friendly trash talk.
Now...he's just stuck here.
Lexi, his girlfriend.
They were supposed to meet for lunch this afternoon. Same team. Same routine.
He hadn't been able to reach her since morning.
---
Kristi Harmon, a nursing student, decided to spend her winter break working at the university's pharmacy. She was completely absorbed in her tasks, but as she returned from the office, she noticed something strange: one of the nurses at the counter had her head down.
Curiosity piqued, Kristi walked over, but tripped over a bag carelessly left on the floor. The nurse suddenly shot up, and Kristi's heart raced as she noticed blood trickling from the nurse's neck.
Before she could process what was happening, the nurse clambered onto the counter, making unsettling gurgling noises and flashing a grin at Kristi that sent chills down her spine.
Instinct kicked in, and Kristi bolted into the storage room, slamming the door behind her with a loud thud.
Breathing heavily, she thought, "What on earth was that?!"
Suddenly, a rumbling sound echoed from an aisle lined with shelves. Another nurse staggered into view, looking equally injured. He struggled to navigate through the scattered boxes and bags of medical supplies on the floor.
Kristi cautiously approached, her mind racing to figure out what was going on. Just then, she accidentally kicked a paper bag, and the noise drew the injured nurse's attention.
"Great, just great," Kristi thought, frustration boiling inside her.
The nurse turned his bloodshot eyes toward her, his mouth and body smeared with blood. Panicking, he lunged in her direction. In a split-second decision, Kristi shoved one of the shelves, causing a domino effect that trapped him in a corner, unable to reach her.
Inside was a crazy man and outside was a crazy woman, Kristi thought, clenching her fists. "What do I do"
Time dragged on—seconds felt like minutes, and minutes stretched into hours. Night fell, and the sounds outside faded into an eerie silence. The nurse in the corner continued to gurgle but seemed to have calmed down a bit.
Kristi glanced at her phone; her parents had just sent her a text. It hit her then: the noise had attracted their attention, which is why she had kept her phone silent all day and hadn't called anyone.
She had tried to contact the police and security, but all they've said is to remain patient and wait for help.
But Kristi can't stay here for long.
Upper Campus - Student Corner Convenient Store
The lights were switched off to avoid drawing any unwanted attention.
Preston couldn't help but fixate on the ticking clock. Next to him, Laura was still slightly trembling, though it looked like she had dozed off—probably too shaken up to stay awake.
At the counter, Russel, Isabel, and Mariana were all looking pretty worn out themselves.
Over in another corner, Mr. Thompson was munching on a snack bar he had picked up earlier.
Sitting in the aisle of the store were two other students, Michael and Logan. Michael was gazing out the window, while Logan was quietly typing away on his MacBook.
They'd been instructed to stay put and wait for help, but it felt like hours had passed. Preston heard that the authorities were already setting up a perimeter around the university. Help had to be on the way, right?
Many had speculated online that another perimeter was going to be built around the city, they were going to go on a lockdown, the entire city.
----
The clock clicked over to 2:17 a.m.
The sound felt deafening.
Preston's eyes snapped open. For a moment, he wasn't sure what had woken him—until he heard it.
A faint tap.
Not inside the store.
Outside.
Michael stiffened at the window. He lifted one hand slowly, signaling for silence. Everyone froze, even Laura, who stirred but didn't wake.
The tapping came again.
Deliberate. Rhythmic.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Logan quietly shut his laptop, easing the screen down until it went dark. The soft click made Preston's heart spike.
Mr. Thompson stopped chewing.
Logan mouthed, What is that?
Michael leaned closer to the glass, breath fogging it slightly. He wiped a small circle clear with his sleeve.
There was someone standing on the sidewalk.
A woman.
She was facing away from the store, shoulders slumped, arms hanging loosely at her sides. Her clothes were torn, dark stains soaking into the fabric. She swayed gently, as if struggling to remain upright.
"She's alive," Michael whispered. "I think… she's alive."
Isabel shook her head violently, pressing a finger to her lips.
The woman turned.
Her face was slack, jaw hanging slightly open. One eye stared forward, unblinking. The other… wasn't there. Blood crusted the side of her head, dried black beneath the streetlight.
She smiled.
And knocked again.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Laura jerked awake with a gasp.
"Everyone quiet," Mariana whispered.
The woman leaned closer to the glass now, breath fogging the window from the outside. Her lips moved, forming silent words.
Help me.
Mr. Thompson stood up suddenly. "We can't just leave her out there."
Russel grabbed his sleeve. "Don't."
Outside, the woman's head tilted sharply to the side, as if listening.
From somewhere down the street came another sound.
A dragging shuffle.
Then another.
Then many.
Figures began to emerge from the darkness—slow, uneven shapes stumbling toward the store. Some crawled. Some limped. Some moved far too quickly.
The woman at the window began to laugh.
A wet, broken sound.
She slammed her head against the glass.
"No one?" she called softly.
Her voice wasn't slurred. It wasn't feral. It sounded normal—tired, even amused.
Laura leaned closer to Preston, her voice barely a thread. "Is she… blind?"
The woman began to move.
Slowly. Deliberately.
She dragged herself forward inch by inch, the toe of one shoe scraping against the pavement. Beside her, a white cane clattered softly, its tip tapping the concrete. A wrist strap looped around her hand, tangled and slick with dried blood, preventing her from letting go.
Tap.Scrape.Tap.
"She seems conscious, but..." Preston whispered.
Russel walks up to the door, his gaze sweeping over the scene outside. "It's like everyone is following her".
-----------
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Gina had never felt so alive.
Up until her 17th birthday, she was just your average girl. Sure, she had a bit of a reckless streak, but everything changed when a car accident took away her eyesight.
High school was brutal for her; she faced relentless bullying. When she finally stepped into college, she thought she'd find some freedom, but reality hit hard.
Gina felt tiny and disgusted with herself. Once, she had been so vibrant, but now she felt like just another disabled person wandering the streets. She cursed her situation, lashed out at those who pitied her, and had a particular disdain for the fake friends who pretended to care.
One ordinary day on campus, as she headed to class, she heard a commotion—people screaming. Panic surged through her as she called out for help, but all she received were shoves and harsh words.
Caught in the chaos, she was pushed into the road. Suddenly, a vehicle collided with her, sending her flying through the air. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears as her consciousness began to fade. Just when she thought it was over, an intense pain jolted her back to awareness. It felt like someone was clawing at her flesh, again and again.
The agony seemed endless until, finally, it vanished, leaving her numb.
As time passed, a strange craving emerged within her—it was blood. Blinded, she relied solely on her hearing. She'd never experienced anything like this before; for the first time, she felt... alive.
Hours later, Gina started making her way to her class again. As she approached a building, she heard a faint munching sound. It wasn't loud, but it grew clearer as she got closer.
Gina began tapping, thinking, "There's got to be someone here, right?" She chuckled at the thought.
But silence met her instead. No response, no noise.
Gina continued toward the Academic Center where her class class.