Here's a pro tip: if your day starts with burning cities, sprinting monsters, and your best friend hyperventilating behind you, it's probably not going to end with tacos and Netflix.
I didn't even get breakfast.
We were running—me, Elias Mercer, former biotech engineer and current "Don't Die" specialist, and Adrian Carter, professional panic machine—through the chaos of downtown New Arcadia.
The sky glowed orange with fire. Sirens screamed nonstop. Smoke billowed like some angry god's breath. Around us, the world unraveled. People screamed, cars crashed, buildings burned. And somewhere in the madness, the Hollowed hunted.
"Three blocks!" I yelled, dodging a flaming motorcycle.
Adrian's response was to wheeze like a dying accordion. "Three... blocks... to what?"
"The tunnels!" I shouted. "Old subway access—if we get there, we can escape the perimeter!"
"Right. Tunnels. Because if zombies can't see us, they obviously can't bite us."
"They're not zombies!"
"Says the guy bleeding from a monster fight!"
Touché.
We darted down a side alley, narrowly avoiding what looked like a street brawl between a couple of civilians and a creature with way too many joints in its arms. I didn't stop to help. I couldn't. You look too long at the chaos, it swallows you whole.
Then we heard it.
A sound like static wrapped around a scream.
We stopped. My brain screamed "Keep moving!" but curiosity has always been my fatal flaw.
One of the Hollowed emerged under a flickering streetlamp—maybe a teenage girl once. Now? Her spine twisted in all the wrong places. Her limbs jerked like a puppet whose strings had been set on fire. And those eyes… black as tar pits, glinting with hunger.
She didn't scream.
She sprinted.
"MOVE!" I shouted.
We tore down the alley like cartoon characters, minus the funny sound effects. Behind us, her footfalls pounded the pavement—too fast, too inhuman. I didn't look back. I couldn't handle seeing how close she was.
We reached the maintenance access door. The one I hoped would be our escape route. Spoiler: it was locked.
"Of course it is," Adrian gasped.
I tried the handle. Nope. I kicked. Nada. Adrian joined me, both of us shoulder-ramming the metal like it had personally insulted our families.
The Hollowed shrieked again. That sound could shatter glass—and maybe souls.
Then it was on us.
I turned just in time to see her midair, lunging like some nightmarish parkour champion. I did the dumbest possible thing: I stepped forward.
I plunged the knife into her chest.
It should have dropped her. It didn't.
She crashed into me, knocking me flat on my back. Her mouth opened wide, black veins crawling up her cheeks like cracked ink. Her breath smelled like old pennies and meat.
We struggled. Her claws raked my shoulder. Pain shot through me like fire laced with electricity. My knife was still buried in her chest, but she didn't care.
Then—BANG!
The monster's head jerked sideways. A bloom of black blood sprayed my face.
Adrian stood behind her, holding a pistol like it was radioactive. His hands shook, and his eyes were huge. "Holy crap," he muttered.
The Hollowed slumped off me, twitching.
I sucked in air like a drowning man. "You brought a gun?"
"Borrowed it," he said. "Didn't expect to use it."
I groaned and rolled to my side. Blood soaked through my shirt. My vision swam.
The door handle clicked. Adrian had managed to kick it open.
We stumbled inside, slammed it shut, and plunged into blackness.
Underground felt like a tomb. Wet air, concrete walls, the occasional drip echoing in the dark. The emergency lights barely worked—faint red bulbs that pulsed like a dying heartbeat.
I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. My shoulder burned. Not a normal burn, either—something was spreading from the wound, something hot and alive.
"You okay?" Adrian asked, his voice small.
"I'm fine," I lied. "Let's keep moving."
Truth? My insides were doing the Macarena. My fingers tingled. I could hear things I shouldn't have been able to—distant echoes, rats squeaking, even the hum of electricity from a junction box three rooms away.
We walked deeper into the tunnels. Our footsteps echoed like gunshots. My thoughts raced.
This infection—it wasn't just spreading. It was mutating. Evolving.
So why did I feel… sharper?
We took a right, then another. I knew these tunnels. I'd helped design them back when I worked for Viratech. Abandoned infrastructure was a hobby of mine—don't judge.
Then I stopped.
Something moved ahead. A figure.
Adrian saw it too. He whispered, "Please tell me that's just a hobo."
Nope.
The thing growled—a wet, low, guttural sound that vibrated in my bones.
It stepped into the red light. Bigger than the last one. Its skin split and regrew with every breath. Bones cracked, muscles twitched, and its eyes—those eyes weren't empty.
They were watching me.
Like it knew me.
Adrian backed up. "Elias…"
"Run."
Too late.
The Hollowed charged, limbs slamming against the walls as it bolted. But this time, I didn't panic.
I stepped into its path.
It swung.
I ducked.
Its claws tore into the concrete behind me. Sparks flew.
I moved faster than I should've. My body felt weightless. My reflexes were dialed up to eleven. I could predict its movements before it made them.
It swiped again. I ducked and countered, slamming my shoulder into its gut.
It staggered back.
Adrian just stood there, slack-jawed. "What the hell?!"
I didn't have time to explain.
The Hollowed roared and lunged.
I grabbed a broken pipe from the floor and drove it into its chest. It shrieked, flailed—and then I kicked it square in the head.
It hit the wall and crumpled.
Silence.
I stood there, panting. My hands trembled. My eyes stung. My entire body buzzed like I'd downed ten espressos and stuck a fork in a toaster.
Adrian slowly approached. "Dude… that was not normal."
"I know," I said, staring at my hands. "I don't know what's happening to me."
He looked at the monster's corpse, then at me. "You're not infected, are you?"
"I don't think so," I said. "But I'm changing."
Adrian swallowed. "You think the virus is doing something to you?"
"Yeah," I said. "But it's not just infection."
He stared at me like I was a walking nuke. "You sure we shouldn't just—lock you up? Or knock you out?"
I was about to argue when a voice echoed from the far end of the tunnel.
"Mercer!"
We both froze.
That was my name.
No one was supposed to know we were down here.
Another flashlight flicked on. More figures emerged—three of them, in tactical gear, faces hidden behind gas masks.
They moved with precision. Trained. Government? Viratech?
The lead one raised a weapon. "Don't move!"
I did the opposite.
I grabbed Adrian and ran.
We bolted into a side tunnel as gunfire lit up the dark behind us. Bullets sparked off metal. My ears rang. Adrian screamed something I couldn't hear.
We ducked behind a service door and slammed it shut.
"What the hell was that?!" he yelled.
"They're not rescue teams," I said. "They're here to contain."
"Contain what?"
I hesitated.
Then I said the thing I hadn't wanted to say out loud.
"Me."
---
Cliffhanger? Oh Yeah.
The truth slammed into me like a wrecking ball.
The virus—the Eclipse Strain—it didn't just kill.
It evolved.
It changed things.
And somehow, it had left me half-changed, half-human.
Which meant I was valuable.
Dangerous.
A target.
Outside, the city burned.
Underground, monsters hunted.
Above us, men with guns searched for me.
And inside me?
Something new was waking up.
Something powerful.
Something that wanted out.
Adrian looked at me like I was either his best shot at survival—or his worst nightmare.
"Elias," he whispered. "What are you turning into?"
I didn't have an answer.
But I knew one thing:
We were just getting started.