Days passed quietly.
Too quietly.
The kind of calm that makes your skin crawl — the calm before something terrible remembers it exists. Inside the camp, survivors had started to breathe easier, patching walls, sharing meals, even smiling again. No zombies. No screams. Just the wind whispering through empty streets and hollow buildings.
For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped bleeding.
But peace never lasts long in this world.
It began with a faint tremor beneath their feet. At first, people thought it was an earthquake. Then came the sound — a deep, rhythmic thud. Another. And another. Like footsteps… but far too heavy to belong to anything human.
Derek looked up from the wall, his voice sharp.
"You all hear that?"
Leo tightened his grip on his rifle. "Yeah. And it's getting closer."
Before anyone could react — BOOM!
The wall exploded outward. Bricks and metal scattered like paper in a storm as a massive figure burst through the dust.
It was enormous — muscles bulging beneath a tattered lab coat that barely hung from its shoulders. A cold silver mask covered its face, expressionless and gleaming under the fading light. The creature didn't roar. It didn't growl. It just moved with heavy, deliberate steps — like it knew exactly what it was here to do.
Panic shattered the brief peace. People screamed and ran. Gunfire erupted, echoing through the camp, but the bullets barely slowed the thing down.
Jordan, Maya, Derek, and Leo were thrown from the wall by the blast, hitting the ground hard. Dirt filled their mouths; pain filled their bodies. Derek groaned, clutching his shoulder. Leo tried to push himself up, gasping for air.
The creature advanced, unstoppable. Each step shook the ground like a heartbeat of doom.
"Fall back!" Leo shouted, dragging Derek behind a broken barricade.
Maya's mind was racing. She had seen something like this before — not exactly, but close. The coat, the mask, the unnatural strength. This wasn't a zombie. This was made.
Her hands trembled as she dug through her bag, pulling out small jars of chemicals, wires, and metal scraps. "Come on… think, think…" she whispered.
She started building — instinct, memory, desperation guiding her fingers. Her father had taught her enough about chemistry to know this was dangerous. But so was doing nothing.
The others fired to distract the monster as it turned its masked head toward her. The thing paused — tilting slightly, curious, almost human for a moment. Then it began walking straight toward her.
"Almost done…" Maya muttered. The device in her hands hissed softly — crude, unstable, but maybe enough. She yanked the fuse and threw it.
The explosion hit the creature square in the chest. Smoke, flame, dust. For a heartbeat, hope flickered.
Then the smoke cleared.
The creature was still standing. Burned. Bleeding black. But alive.
Leo's voice dropped to a whisper. "That didn't stop it."
The monster started forward again, slower but deliberate. Its masked eyes glowed faintly in the smoke. Maya backed away, exhausted, bleeding from her arm.
And then—
A blur cut through the air.
Something — someone — moved faster than sight, sprinting straight into the beast. The sound of impact cracked like thunder. The creature staggered back — for the first time — stunned.
Everyone froze.
Through the dust, a figure stood. A girl. Young, strong, her face hidden beneath a dark hood. Her posture was calm, lethal.
She turned to Maya. "You made that bomb?"
Maya blinked, stunned. "Y-yeah—"
"Good. Got another one?"
Without hesitating, Maya handed her the spare explosive she'd kept for emergencies. The girl took it, no fear in her movements.
The monster lunged. She ducked under its arm, rolled between its legs, and climbed its back like smoke. One smooth motion — she jammed the bomb deep into the cracks of its chest armor and leapt away.
BOOM.
The explosion ripped through the mask. Smoke and metal flew. The creature stumbled, groaned, and fell to its knees. Then it collapsed — motionless.
Silence swallowed the camp.
Smoke curled upward from the broken giant. People peeked out from their hiding places, faces pale, eyes wide.
The girl stood, brushing the dust from her hands. She looked around at the ruin, her tone calm.
"For a second, Maya thought her eyes glowed faintly in the smoke — but maybe it was just the firelight
"You'll want to fix that wall," she said. "There might be more."
Leo stepped forward, still catching his breath. "Wait—who are you?"
But she didn't answer. She just turned away, walking toward the edge of camp, shadows swallowing her whole.
Maya's voice trembled. "She saved us…"
Jordan sheathed his katana. "Yeah. But from what?"
No one answered.
For now, the monster was gone.
But peace… peace had never felt so fragile.
---
The blast had swallowed everything in light and sound.
Then — nothing.
---
Derek woke first.
The world was too bright. Not sunlight — sterile white light, humming softly overhead. The air smelled sharp, metallic, wrong. He sat up, body aching, heart pounding.
He was in a room.
White walls. White floor. White clothes.
No doors. No windows.
"Maya?" he whispered.
She stirred beside him, groggy, her hair tangled. "Derek… where are we?"
He didn't have an answer.
Leo blinked awake next, confusion turning to panic. "We were at the camp. What the hell—"
Jordan pushed himself up, looking around like a trapped animal. "This isn't real."
And then Derek saw her.
The girl.
The one who saved them. Sitting in the far corner, hugging her knees. The confident fighter from the camp was gone — replaced by someone pale, small, trembling.
Maya swallowed hard. "You… you were the one who killed that thing. Do you know where we are?"
The girl's eyes flicked toward her, then away. "You're in… the Laboratory."
The word froze the air.
Leo frowned. "The what?"
"The Laboratory," she repeated. "Where they study people. Change them. Test them."
Jordan's voice hardened. "Study people? Who are they?"
Her gaze lifted slowly, fear shadowing her face.
"My name is Eva," she said. "And this place… it belongs to the Architects."
The word hung in the air like poison.
Derek's throat went dry. "Architects? What are they?"
Eva's voice was low, distant. "They don't build cities. They build people. Or try to."
No one moved.
"They take humans," she continued softly, "and mix them with other DNA — infected, animal, even synthetic. They call them Hybrids. They call it evolution. But it's torture."
Maya's hand covered her mouth. Leo just stared, silent.
Jordan clenched his fists. "That monster in the camp — that was one of them?"
Eva nodded. "A failed one. They send them out to test survivors. To watch how you react. The Architects are always watching."
Her eyes drifted to the ceiling, as if the walls themselves had ears.
Derek whispered, "You've been here before, haven't you?"
"Born here," Eva said. "Escaped once. Thought I was free. But they never let anyone go for long."
The room felt smaller now. The air heavier.
Leo's jaw tightened. "How long have we been here?"
Eva's eyes darkened. "Time doesn't exist here. No windows. No clocks. They can put you to sleep for weeks. Or months. You stop counting."
Maya began pacing, panic creeping into her voice. "There's always a way out. There has to be."
Eva shook her head. "This room isn't locked from the outside. It's locked from the inside."
Derek frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Eva whispered, "they don't need doors. The walls listen. They respond to them. They can make you sleep… make you forget."
Leo slammed his fist against the wall. "Then let them hear me."
The wall rippled under his hand — like water disturbed by a drop. Everyone froze.
Eva's voice was almost a whisper. "I told you. The walls listen."
The light above them flickered. Once. Twice. Then steadied.
A faint static filled the room.
It wasn't random. It was breathing.
Slow. Deliberate.
Everywhere and nowhere at once.
Maya covered her ears. "What is that?"
Eva looked up, her voice shaking. "They're awake now. They know you're conscious."
The static grew louder. The lights pulsed in rhythm — like a heartbeat.
Derek's voice broke. "Eva, what do we do?"
She met his eyes. Calm. Hollow.
"We wait," she said softly. "They always make the first move."
And then —
The lights went out.