Caine slammed into the barricaded doorway where Vivienne Cross and her coworkers had taken desperate refuge during the chaos of the outbreak. They had hurriedly reinforced the entrance with a haphazard pile of tables and chairs, striving to hold back the relentless undead clawing at their defenses.
"RAAAHHHHH!"
Caine bellowed as he struck the door again, his glowing red eyes burning through the narrow gap with a menacing intensity.
Vivienne gripped her phone tightly, her voice trembling with panic as she pleaded into it.
"Get in here now and help us! Something's gone terribly wrong!"
A muffled reply emerged from the device, and though Vivienne seemed momentarily reassured, the fear of being stared down by Caine in his monstrous state made her shudder involuntarily.
BANG
BANG
Caine's fists hammered against the door, the force stripping the flesh from his knuckles and exposing raw bone, yet he continued to pound against the reinforced wood with unrelenting determination.
POW
A distant gunshot shattered the air, drawing Caine's attention. He turned sharply, his predatory gaze locking onto a lone surviving technician who had armed himself with a shotgun. The man fired at a nearby zombie, his hands shaking as he scrambled to reload.
Caine lunged forward on all fours, a feral predator closing in with blood dripping from his mouth.
Sensing danger, the technician finished reloading just in time. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he spun around instinctively, leapt back, and fired, discharging the shells directly into the advancing zombie.
POW
The shotgun blast reverberated through the corridor like a crack of thunder. The recoil nearly wrenched the weapon from the trembling technician's grasp, but his frantic shot hit its mark, the slug tore into Caine's chest, ripping a jagged hole through decayed flesh and spraying dark, clotted blood across the walls.
Caine faltered for the briefest moment before his head snapped up, his crimson eyes blazing brighter, pupils narrowing to razor-thin slits. His body convulsed as the wound bubbled and stitched itself back together, sinewy strands weaving across the shredded tissue with grotesque precision. The horrific sight drained the last vestiges of courage from the technician.
"...Oh, God…" he murmured.
Caine let out a deafening roar, a primal, guttural sound that seemed to shake the very walls. He surged forward with terrifying speed, claws raking against the floor. The technician squeezed off another shot, grazing Caine's shoulder and painting the corridor with gore, but it wasn't enough. Caine collided with him like an unstoppable force.
The impact sent the man sprawling, his shotgun skittering across the floor. Before he could rise, Caine's claws drove into his abdomen, lifting him effortlessly into the air. His agonized scream echoed through the hallway, cutting through Vivienne's frantic breaths as she cowered behind the barricaded door.
Caine tore into him with unrelenting savagery, teeth ripping through flesh and sinew, consuming without hesitation. Blood pooled beneath them, thick and viscous in the dim emergency lighting. When he finally dropped the mutilated corpse, it was little more than an unrecognizable heap of gore.
Vivienne pressed trembling hands against her mouth to stifle her scream, her wide, horrified eyes fixed on the crack in the door. Through the narrow gap, she could still see movement, the predator crouching over its grisly feast.
"Dear God, he's eating him…" one of her coworkers whispered, his voice trembling.
"Quiet!" Vivienne hissed, though her voice wavered with fear. "If he hears us—"
A sudden creak silenced her words.
Caine's head snapped toward the noise, his crimson eyes blazing. Rising slowly, his movements eerily deliberate for a creature so far gone, he turned back toward the barricaded door.
BANG.
His fists pounded against the door, shaking the entire frame. Splinters flew as tables and chairs rattled under the onslaught.
BANG.
Another blow landed, even more forceful. One of the tables shifted, scraping several inches across the floor.
Vivienne stumbled backward, gripping her phone with shaking hands. "Where are they? You said backup was coming!" she screamed into the receiver.
"They're deploying now," came the static-filled reply. "Hold your position! Reinforcements are inbound! Do not let the infected breach—"
The transmission was abruptly drowned out by another deafening strike.
Caine's arm smashed through the doorframe, shards of wood splintering around it. His fingers, coated in black ichor, clawed frantically into the room. A coworker swung a metal pipe, striking his arm with enough force to crack bone, but Caine didn't even react.
Instead, he seized the man's wrist.
The coworker managed one strangled gasp of terror before Caine yanked him forward with brutal strength, slamming his body into the barricade so hard that ribs audibly fractured against the reinforced surface.
Vivienne's scream echoed through the chaos.
Caine's grip tightened, bones cracking beneath his fingers as he yanked harder. The barricade groaned and splintered, the man screaming in agony as his torso was forced halfway through the jagged gap. Blood sprayed across the floor, his skin shredding against the splintered wood.
"Help me! Please!" he shrieked, clawing desperately to pull himself back, but Caine responded with a guttural growl, an inhuman rumble that reverberated through the room like grinding stones.
Vivienne and a coworker lunged forward, grabbing the man's shoulders and straining to pull him free, but the strength on the other side was monstrous. With a sickening tear, the man's body lurched forward, his arm ripped clean off. He collapsed to the floor, convulsing as his lifeblood gushed across the tiles.
Caine recoiled, gnawing ravenously on the severed limb with a mechanical, savage hunger. The wet, grotesque sound of tearing flesh echoed in the hall, mingling with the faint hum of flickering emergency lights overhead.
Vivienne's breath caught in her throat. Her vision blurred, and her pulse roared in her ears. Her coworkers huddled together, trembling and whimpering, unable to look away from the horror unfolding before them.
Then—
WHUMP!
A metallic clang echoed from the far end of the corridor. Caine's head snapped toward the sound. Down the hallway, a heavy steel shutter slid open with a hiss, revealing a squad of armored figures in perfect formation. Their black combat armor gleamed under the red emergency lights, visors glowing faintly blue as they raised their rifles in unison.
"Visual contact with multiple infected!" one barked into a comm-link. "Permission to engage?"
"Granted," came the reply. "Sweep the area and secure viable specimens."
The lead soldier raised his weapon and unleashed a barrage of gunfire.
RATATATAT!
Bullets tore through decaying flesh and brittle bone, ripping apart the undead that pursued Caine down the corridor. One by one, the creatures collapsed in twitching heaps as the air became thick with the acrid tang of gunpowder and the foul stench of charred decay.
But Caine remained standing.
He surged forward.
The relentless gunfire tore chunks from his body, but he pressed on, his regenerative flesh knitting itself back together almost instantly. With an unstoppable force, he slammed into the nearest soldier, sending him hurtling against the wall with a deafening crash. The soldier's armor buckled under the sheer impact.
At point-blank range, the others opened fire, their bullets sparking off armor and painting the walls with blood. Chaos erupted as the confined space filled with the cacophony of battle.
Caine let out a guttural roar, seizing one soldier by the throat and effortlessly lifting him off the ground. The man thrashed in vain, his weapon falling to the floor with a clatter. With a brutal swing, Caine hurled him into another trooper, the two colliding with a sickening crunch and crumpling into the remains of a shattered console.
"The target is regenerating!" one of the soldiers exclaimed. "He's different, he's one of the originals!"
"Do not kill him!" the commander ordered sharply. "Tranq him! We need him alive!"
A sharp hiss of compressed air filled the tense atmosphere as a dart gun was raised—
Thwip!
The dart struck Caine directly in the neck. He staggered, his movements growing sluggish, his crimson eyes flickering like fading embers.
The squad cautiously advanced, their weapons trained on him, ready for any sudden aggression.
For a moment, the scene was silent. Then—
Caine lunged with a final burst of strength, roaring in defiance before another barrage of tranquilizers struck him.
He collapsed to his knees.
His body convulsed violently, his hands clawing feebly at the ground until the darkness of sedation fully engulfed him.
As his crimson eyes dimmed to nothing, the squad leader approached, kneeling by the subdued figure.
"Bag him," he commanded. "This one's a priority. Project Revenant begins tonight."
The black-armored soldiers advanced through the blood-soaked corridor with calculated precision, their visors catching the erratic glow of emergency lights. Caine's limp form was hauled between two troopers, his clawed hands smearing dark streaks across the slick floor. All around, the dead were systematically organized, bodies piled like garbage, while the infected were restrained and tagged for "transport."
"Bag the viable specimens," the squad leader commanded, his voice flat and emotionless behind the filtered mask. "Burn the rest."
Two soldiers moved to execute the order, activating a portable incinerator. The flames consumed the mangled remains with a low hiss, the acrid stench of charred flesh thickening the air. Caine twitched faintly as he was strapped onto a reinforced gurney, the faint luminescence behind his closed eyes pulsing irregularly. Even under heavy sedation, his presence exuded an unsettling, unnatural energy.
"Is this one even alive?" a soldier questioned, his tone uneasy.
"He is now," another replied grimly, securing the magnetic locks on the restraints. "Command says he's the priority."
The squad proceeded into a decontamination corridor lined with steel and glass, passing through successive layers of automated scanning systems that bathed them in ultraviolet light. Beyond the final barrier, a massive cargo elevator awaited, its interior awash in sterile white light. The floor vibrated beneath their boots as they descended, the hum of machinery growing louder with each passing meter.
When the elevator doors parted, an expansive subterranean facility stretched out before them, immaculate, clinical, and pulsing with concealed power. Overhead, a sign read: "Section Delta-7 — Bio-Resurrection Division."
Walls were lined with rows of glass containment pods, their interiors filled with murky liquid and indistinct figures twitching within. Scientists clad in white hazmat suits moved methodically between stations, their identities obscured by reflective visors.
Dr. Ramirez stood at the heart of the chaos, tall and severe, his gray hair meticulously combed, a stark contrast to the turmoil overhead. His eyes burned with the intensity of a zealot as he observed the soldiers wheeling Caine into the sterile chamber.
"This is the alpha specimen?" he inquired, his tone unnervingly calm.
"Yes, sir," the squad leader confirmed. "Regenerative capabilities verified. Survived multiple gunshot wounds and tranquilization."
Ramirez's lips curled into a faint, calculated smile. "Excellent. Begin preparations for immediate nanite integration."
The soldiers exchanged uneasy looks as they secured the gurney beneath a web of mechanical arms. From the ceiling, tubes descended, linking to the ports embedded in the table. In the observation bay, a team of assistants prepared syringes filled with a shimmering silver substance, nanites, billions of microscopic machines suspended in nutrient gel.
A scientist hesitated, his voice faltering. "Sir, none of the prior trials—"
Ramirez cut him off with an icy glare. "The previous subjects were mere experiments. This one is the prototype. His regenerative factor will stabilize the nanite bonding process. Proceed."
At Ramirez's command, the silver fluid was injected into Caine's veins, as well as those of several nearby infected. The nanites coursed through their systems like liquid lightning, igniting the heart monitors with rapid spikes.
Then came the screams, piercing and unrelenting.
The infected writhed uncontrollably, their bodies contorted as nanites tore through decayed tissues, reconstructing and rewriting at the cellular level. Monitors crackled with static as the subjects' vitals fluctuated wildly, surging and failing in quick succession. One erupted in flames, while another's flesh crystallized and shattered into dust. The air thickened with the acrid stench of burnt flesh and ozone.
Only Caine endured.
His body convulsed against the restraints, muscles straining, veins glowing with a liquid silver light coursing beneath his skin. His eyes snapped open, brilliant crimson irises swirling with metallic hues. The nanites surged through him, consuming decay, repairing the broken, and reforging the lost.
"Heart rate stabilizing!" a scientist exclaimed. "Neural activity increasing exponentially!"
Ramirez leaned closer, his voice taut with restrained awe. "It's working..."
Caine's breathing steadied, though his gaze remained unfocused, caught between primal instinct and rising awareness. The low hum of machinery filled the silence as the others in the chamber froze, transfixed by the spectacle unfolding before them.
Amid the fog of hunger and chaos, a flicker of humanity surfaced in his mind.
A name.
A memory.
...Caine...
Slowly, deliberately, his eyes rose to the observation window. A faint glimmer of recognition shimmered within the crimson glow.
For the first time since the outbreak began, Caine remembered who he was.