The bright sun hung high, reflecting off the shining rails of Maelstrom's twisting track.
The screams from the coaster overhead weren't fear-they were joy.
Donovan stood beside Raeleen in the aftermath of their last ride, still feeling the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
She was laughing, that same effortless, musical sound that had sent him spiraling into a crush the first time he heard it.
Raeleen (grinning, nudging him): "You didn't scream, but I saw you gripping that bar for dear life."
Donovan (mock offended): "Lies. I was completely calm."
Raeleen rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.
Raeleen: "Mmmhmm. Then why do you look like you just survived an actual near-death experience?"
Donovan grinned, rubbing the back of his neck.
Donovan: "...Because I kinda did?"
Raeleen laughed, shaking her head.
She looked... happy. At peace.
Donovan had spent most of today convincing himself that this was just a lucky moment.
That there was no way a girl like Raeleen Carter was actually enjoying his company.
But now?
Now, standing here, with her teasing him, smiling at him, looking at him like they were just two normal kids having a great day?
For the first time, he actually let himself believe it.
💭 This is real. This might actually be something.
Then-the first scream cut through the air.
At first, it blended with the usual theme park noises.
Screams from the rides.
Chatter from passing families.
The occasional burst of laughter.
But this?
This was different.
Sharp. Wet. Terrified.
Raeleen's smile faded.
She turned her head, her brows furrowing.
Raeleen (frowning): "...Did you hear that?"
Donovan nodded slowly.
Then, another one.
And another.
Until, suddenly, the park's usual hum of excitement twisted into something... wrong.
People weren't walking-they were running.
Laughter had turned into panicked, breathless shouting.
And there, in the distance, someone was on the ground, twitching-bleeding.
Donovan's throat went dry.
💭 What the hell is happening?
Raeleen took a step closer to him.
Her hand brushed against his arm-unconsciously.
Then, the first gunshot rang out.
The moment the crack of the gunshot echoed through the park, everything snapped.
People screamed, shoving past one another.
Families grabbed their kids, sprinting toward the exits.
A vendor cart flipped over as someone tripped, falling hard onto the pavement.
Donovan grabbed Raeleen's wrist instinctively.
Donovan (urgent): "We need to move."
She nodded fast, gripping his hand just as tight.
They started running.
💭 Don't think. Just move. Just-
Then, a man slammed into them.
The force ripped their hands apart-Donovan stumbled backward, his feet struggling to find balance.
Raeleen (panicked): "DONOVAN?!"
He saw her-just a few feet away.
But the sea of panicked people surged between them.
Raeleen (yelling, trying to push through): "STAY RIGHT THERE-I'M COMING!"
Donovan tried to push through the crowd.
💭 I can still reach her. I can-
Then, he saw them.
The ones who weren't running.
The ones who weren't panicked.
The ones who weren't... normal.
They stood scattered between the fleeing guests, hunched over bodies.
Twitching. Jerking.
Eyes clouded, faces contorted in something almost... empty.
Hands, mouths... stained red.
One of them-a man in a torn security uniform-slowly lifted his head.
His jaw unhinged slightly.
His gaze locked onto Donovan.
And then-it started running.
Donovan felt his pulse slam into overdrive.
He whipped his head back toward Raeleen-
Only to see her being pulled away by the wave of bodies.
Raeleen (shouting): "DONOVAN-!"
She was losing ground-
The space between them was stretching.
He fought to push forward-
Then, a tall man barreled into him, knocking him to the ground.
His breath left his lungs-his vision blurred for half a second.
By the time he pushed himself back up-
She was gone.
💭 No. No, no, NO-
His chest tightened.
His legs moved on instinct-
He ran forward, shoving past people, looking, scanning-
But there was nothing.
No glimpse of her bright jacket.
No sign of her braided hair.
No sound of her voice calling his name.
Just chaos. Just bodies. Just... nothing.
Donovan's throat clenched.
She was gone.
Just minutes ago, he had been laughing with her.
Just minutes ago, he had been thinking about what might happen next.
Now?
Now he had lost her.
His breathing was ragged.
His chest was tight.
Raeleen was gone.
Gone.
💭 She was right there. I saw her. I should have grabbed her. I should have-
Another scream cut through the air.
This one?
This one was different.
Not from someone panicked.
Not from someone running.
This was something else.
Something twisted. Inhuman.
Donovan whipped around.
Then-he saw it.
It was a man.
Or at least, it had been.
His clothes were ripped, stained with something dark.
His skin was pale-patchy, like it was drying out.
His mouth was wet.
💭 Why is his mouth wet?
Then, Donovan's eyes locked onto his hands.
They were slick.
Red.
And then-it moved.
It lurched forward, fast. Too fast.
Its jaw unhinged slightly, teeth bared.
Its arms swung forward, grabbing blindly.
Its legs stumbled at first-then gained momentum.
Straight toward him.
💭 Move.
💭 MOVE.
Donovan's body finally caught up to his mind.
He jumped backward, nearly slipping on the pavement.
But the thing kept coming.
Donovan wasn't thinking.
Not really.
All he knew was-if it got its hands on him, he was dead.
Or worse.
It lunged.
He ducked, barely dodging.
Its arm swung wildly, missing his face by inches.
Then-it turned fast. Too fast.
💭 It's not human. It's not human anymore.
His foot slipped.
He hit the ground hard.
The world tilted.
Then-it was on top of him.
The Deadhead collapsed onto him, pinning his shoulders.
Its breath was rancid. Rotten. Wrong.
Its lips curled back, revealing stained, jagged teeth.
Its hands clawed at his shirt, pressing down on his chest.
💭 I'm going to die.
It lunged-
Donovan threw his arms up, grabbing its throat, holding it back.
Its teeth snapped inches from his face.
Donovan's arms shook.
It was stronger than him.
Too strong.
His grip was slipping.
It was winning.
Then-
BANG.
The thing's head snapped back.
A dark hole appeared in its forehead-then another.
Its body stiffened. Twitched.
Then-collapsed.
Donovan's chest heaved.
His mind was still catching up.
Then-a hand grabbed him, yanking him up.
Marco.
His father's eyes were blazing-focused, cold, deadly.
In his hand-a smoking pistol.
Marco gripped Donovan's shirt, pulling him closer.
Marco (low, sharp): "Look at me."
Donovan's breath was still ragged, his heart pounding.
I'm
Marco: "You hesitate, you die."
Donovan swallowed.
💭 I almost died.
Marco (pulling him forward): "We find your sister. We get out."
He didn't wait for a response.
He just moved.
And this time, Donovan followed.
Each step was a test of silence.
The deeper Marco and Donovan moved through the ruined park, the worse it became.
Bodies slumped in unnatural positions, still twitching.
Blood pooled across pavement, staining colorful balloons and stuffed prizes.
The air was thick-coppery, sickly sweet, filled with the scent of fresh death.
Donovan's fingers clenched around the knife in his grip.
It felt foreign. Unfamiliar. Heavy.
A knife isn't just something you hold. It's something you use.
And Donovan wasn't ready to use it.
Marco stopped abruptly.
STOP.
Donovan froze.
His father's head tilted slightly, eyes focused ahead.
Donovan followed his gaze.
There a Deadhead, barely a few feet away.
It stood near a collapsed food cart, its head slowly tilting side to side.
• Its jaw hung slack.
• Its body swayed, as if listening to something Donovan couldn't hear.
• Its fingers twitched-almost like it was waiting.
Does it smell us? Does it hear us?
Then a distant scream cut through the air.
The Deadhead's head snapped toward the sound.
It lurched away.
Marco exhaled softly.
He gestured keep moving.
Donovan followed, his legs shaking.
Then it happened.
A scream.
Not just any scream.
A child's scream.
Elona (sobbing, tel
"DADDY!"
Elona (sobbing, terrified): "DADDY!"
Marco stopped.
His entire body tensed.
Donovan had never seen his father hesitate -but in that moment, he did.
Just for a second.
Then he ran.
Not carefully. Not silently.
Just pure, unfiltered panic.
Donovan had no choice but to follow.
They turned a corner-and there she was.
Aneesa.
Standing, arms out, protecting Elona as two
Standing, arms out, protecting Elona as two Deadheads lunged at her.
• One was already down-skull shattered.
• The other two snarled, clawing, snapping.
• Aneesa was slowing down.
Donovan couldn't breathe.
No. No, no, no.
Marco raised his gun.
BANG.
The first Deadhead collapsed.
The second turned toward Marco.
It lunged.
Marco stepped forward, elbowed it in the jaw, and shoved it back.
Another gunshot.
Dead.
It was over.
Or so Donovan thought.
Then-Aneesa turned to face them.
And he saw her arm.
Aneesa's breath was uneven.
Her hand hovered over her forearm.
Her sleeve was torn.
And beneath it a bite.
The color drained from Donovan's face.
No. No, no, no.
Elona clung to her mother, face buried in her side.
Elona (whimpering): "Mommy, let's go now. Please, let's go now."
Aneesa stared at Marco.
Her eyes said everything.
Marco swallowed. His throat worked. His hands twitched.
He knew.
He already knew.
But he wasn't ready to say it.
Not yet.
Donovan (shaking his head): "Mom?"
Aneesa exhaled.
She slowly rolled up her sleeve.
The bite mark glared back at them.
Elona (blinking, confused): "...Mommy?"
Aneesa closed her eyes for a second, inhaling sharply.
Then she pulled Elona closer.
Aneesa (softly): "Baby... I love you so much."
Elona shook her head violently.
Elona (desperate): "We can fix it. We can-"
She frantically pulled at Aneesa's shirt.
Elona (pleading, breaking down): "Mommy, we just need a bandaid! We just-"
Aneesa crushed her into a hug.
And Elona broke.
Sobbing. Shaking.
Marco stood still.
His hands were fists.
His breathing was uneven.
His shoulders stiff. His jaw tight.
He was Marco Carter. The soldier. The protector. The leader.
But right now?
Right now, he was just a husband losing his wife.
Aneesa turned to him.
Aneesa (soft, firm): "You know what you have to do."
Marco's chest rose and fell too fast.
Marco (hoarse): "...I can't."
Aneesa smiled sadly.
Aneesa: "Yes, you can."
Marco's throat worked.
He couldn't speak.
He just... stared.
Then, finally, he whispered:
Marco: "...Not yet."
The Hardest Goodbye -A Mother's Final Words
Aneesa turned to Donovan.
She reached for him.
He took her hand.
Her grip was weak.
Aneesa (soft, smiling): "You take care of them now, okay?"
Donovan's throat clenched.
Donovan (choking back tears): "Mom..."
Aneesa cupped his face.
Aneesa: "My baby boy."
She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his.
Then to Marco.
Aneesa: "I love you."
Marco (quietly): "...I love you too."
Aneesa nodded.
Then she took one last breath.
And finally, she said the words that would haunt them forever:
Aneesa (to Marco)not yet. But soon."
The moment of stillness didn't last.
The weight of Aneesa's confession, of her looming fate, hung between them like a storm cloud.
And then-
The storm hit.
Shrieks and guttural moans echoed down the ruined pathways.
Bodies shuffled into view-first a few, then too many.
The scent of blood thickened, mixed with something worse.
Marco snapped back into focus.
Marco (harsh whisper): "They're coming."
Donovan twisted around-his stomach turned.
Deadheads were pouring in from both sides.
Stumbling over bodies. Climbing over benches.
Their movements were unnatural-twitchy, hungry, endless.
Elona (whimpering, clutching Aneesa's shirt): "Mommy, we have to go!"
Aneesa didn't move.
Didn't even try.
Instead, she just looked at Marco.
And that's when Donovan realized.
She wasn't just in pain.
She was fading.
Marco knelt next to Aneesa.
Marco (low, urgent): "You can make it. I'll carry you-"
Aneesa shook her head.
Aneesa (soft, already knowing): "No, you won't."
She tried to shift-and the pain hit her like a hammer.
Her breath stuttered. Her limbs trembled.
She was dying.
And she wasn't going anywhere.
Marco's hands clenched into fists.
He was calculating the time. The distance. The weight of carrying her.
It wasn't going to work.
They were already too close.
The exits were narrowing.
He couldn't carry her and protect the kids.
And Aneesa knew it.
She reached out, touching his arm.
Her fingers were cold.
Aneesa (soft, firm): "Go."
Marco's jaw tightened.
Marco (voice breaking): "Aneesa-"
Aneesa: "GO!"
She turned to Donovan.
Her face softened.
Aneesa: "Get your sister out of here."
Elona panicked.
She grabbed at Aneesa, pulling on her shirt, shaking her.
Elona (desperate): "No! No, Mommy, come on, we have to GO!"
Her small hands clutched her mother's arms, trying to lift her.
Aneesa winced in pain but forced a smile.
Aneesa: "Baby, I'll be right behind you."
Donovan felt his heart clench.
She was lying.
And Marco knew it too.
But Elona?
She believed it.
She nodded, wiping her tears.
Elona (sniffling, relieved): "Okay! Okay, come on, let's go!"
But she didn't see it.
She didn't see the way Aneesa's hands trembled.
Or how she was barely holding herself up.
Or how Marco's entire face was breaking apart.
The Deadheads were close now.
Twenty feet away.
Fifteen.
Their snarls were deafening.
Aneesa turned to Marco.
Aneesa (soft, pleading): "Take them."
Marco exhaled sharply.
Then, in one swift motion-he grabbed Elona.
She screamed. Kicked. Thrashed.
Elona (wailing, panicked): "NO! MOMMY, NO! DADDY, PUT ME DOWN! MOMMY, COME ON!!"
She reached for Aneesa, her fingers outstretched-
But Marco kept moving.
He didn't look back.
Didn't let himself.
Donovan hesitated.
For just a second.
Just enough for Aneesa to meet his eyes.
And smile.
Then-Marco yanked him forward.
And she was gone.
They ran.
The park blurred.
The sounds of the horde swallowed everything behind them.
Elona was still screaming, still fighting in Marco's arms.
Elona (crying, desperate): "Daddy, put me down! Mommy's coming! Mommy's right behind us!!"
Marco didn't answer.
Didn't speak.
Didn't even acknowledge it.
Because he couldn't.
Donovan stumbled as they reached a clearing near an exit gate.
His breath was ragged, his head spinning.
He looked back-just once.
Aneesa was gone.
The place where she had been was swarmed.
There was no saving her now.
💭 She knew. She knew this would happen.
Elona still believed.
She was still shaking, still waiting.
💭 She thinks Mom is coming back.
And nobody-not Marco, not Donovan-
Had the heart to tell her the truth.
The air was thick with the sound of panic.
Distant screams echoed between abandoned attractions.
Gunshots rang out sporadically-some close, some farther away.
The scent of smoke mixed with sweat and the sharp, metallic tang of blood.
💭 Keep moving. Don't look back.
Donovan's legs ached, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.
Elona was still crying, but she wasn't struggling anymore.
Not physically.
Now, it was just silent tears, streaming down her face as she stared ahead, her hands balled into fists.
💭 She thinks Mom is coming. She still thinks-
A shouting voice snapped Donovan out of his thoughts.
They weren't alone.
Up ahead-a group of survivors.
Five, maybe six.
A man waving his arms, flagging them down.
A woman holding a child, looking desperate.
Another man, limping, gripping his stomach like he'd been hurt.
They were trapped between a few overturned tables, boxed in by the dead.
The Deadheads hadn't reached them yet-but it was only a matter of time.
Survivor (shouting, pleading): "HEY! HELP US! PLEASE!"
Elona's head snapped toward Marco.
Elona (panicked, still emotional): "Daddy, we have to help them!"
But Marco didn't stop.
Didn't even slow down.
He just grabbed her hand tighter and kept moving.
Elona dug her heels into the pavement, struggling against Marco's grip.
Elona (angry, crying): "DADDY! THEY NEED HELP!"
Marco's voice was cold. Flat. Unyielding.
Marco: "We. Can't."
Elona: "YES, WE CAN!"
She tried to twist away-but Marco snatched her back.
Marco (sharply, eyes burning): "We're not stopping. We keep moving."
Donovan looked back.
He saw the fear in the survivor's faces.
Saw the Deadheads getting closer.
Saw the exact moment they realized they'd been left to die.
The man who had been waving for help?
He stopped.
His hands dropped to his sides.
His face went blank.
Like he had already accepted it.
Donovan turned away.
Kept running.
💭 We can't save them.
They burst through the last row of stalls, finally reaching the outer parking lot.
For the first time since this nightmare started, Donovan felt a brief spark of hope.
💭 If the car is still there, we can leave. We can drive away from this mess. We can-
Then-they saw it.
The parking lot was a warzone.
Hundreds of cars, abandoned, crashed, burning.
Bodies sprawled across pavement-some still moving.
People trapped inside their cars, pounding on the glass, begging to be let out.
And beyond that?
A sea of Deadheads, so densely packed that the only way through was suicide.
Donovan's chest caved in.
💭 We're trapped.
Marco didn't even hesitate.
He grabbed Elona, turned around, and started moving.
Marco (breathless, decisive): "We need a new plan."
They moved back toward the buildings, Marco scanning their surroundings.
💭 Find shelter. Get somewhere defensible.
There was only one option.
The food court.
It was mostly empty, the scattered food stands offering cover and possible supplies.
Marco turned to Elona, kneeling in front of her.
Marco (gentler, though still tense): "Fish or chicken?"
Elona's tears were still fresh, her breathing shaky.
She sniffled, blinking up at him.
Elona (soft, voice breaking): "...Chicken."
Marco nodded.
Marco: "Then we take the Waffles and Fries stand."
The medium food stand was built like a mini diner, with a counter, kitchen, and a back storage area.
It had one entrance, which meant one way in, one way out.
They slipped inside, Marco immediately going into survival mode.
Locked the front doors.
Barricaded the counter with overturned stools.
Checked for supplies-anything useful.
Donovan's hands were still shaking.
Elona sat on the floor, hugging her knees, face buried in her arms.
For a moment, it was quiet.
Then, softly, brokenly, Elona spoke.
Elona (whispering): "Mommy's coming, right?"
Donovan closed his eyes.
Marco didn't answer.