A faint ringing filled Loid's ears as his consciousness slowly drifted back. His body felt cold against the supermarket's tiled floor. His limbs ached, and his mind was clouded with fragmented memories of the chaos that had unfolded. The attack. The monster. The escape. Micheal.
His eyes fluttered open to a dimly lit supermarket, eerily silent. The shelves stood tall like abandoned ruins, casting long shadows under the flickering emergency lights. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, and faint smears of crimson stained the floor near him. The others were gone.
Loid groaned as he pushed himself up, his muscles screaming in protest. His fingers brushed against the spot where he had fallen—cold, damp, stained with something sticky. Blood? His? He wasn't sure.
Then the realization struck him like a sledgehammer.
They left him.
No. Micheal left him.
Loid clenched his fists as the memory came flooding back—Micheal's panicked face, the monster's outstretched claws, and the moment of hesitation before Micheal grabbed him, shoved him toward danger, and used those precious seconds to escape.
"Bastard…" Loid muttered under his breath.
A wave of nausea hit him, but he swallowed it down. He couldn't afford to break down now. He needed to get out, to find the others. If they were still alive.
The supermarket, once a fragile haven, now felt like a graveyard. Tipped-over shelves blocked the aisles, shattered glass glistened on the floor, and the soft hum of dying lights filled the air. The front entrance, once barred by their barricade, was now wide open, its makeshift defenses torn apart. The monster had forced its way in.
Loid scanned the space, his heart hammering. Joe's bat—where was his bat? His eyes darted to the corner, where the weapon lay discarded, its surface smeared with dark stains. He grabbed it, gripping the handle tightly.
Something crunched beneath his foot. A phone.
Loid picked it up, the cracked screen flickering weakly. It wasn't his. The lock screen showed a missed call notification, but the battery icon was nearly dead. He exhaled sharply. No signal. Of course. Whatever was happening outside, it had severed their connection to the world.
His stomach twisted at the thought.
Then, a sound.
A faint, guttural breath.
Loid's blood ran cold as his head snapped toward the darkness beyond the aisles. The monster—was it still here?
His grip on the bat tightened as he slowly backed away.
But there was nothing. No movement. No lurking figure waiting to strike. Just the stillness, the supermarket's eerie quiet pressing against him like an invisible force.
Yet, the feeling remained. He wasn't alone.
As he moved through the aisles, Loid's mind reeled back to their last conversation before the attack.
"Why would this monster just stand there? He had a reason to be here."
The supermarket. It meant something to that thing. But what?
Loid's gaze landed on a framed picture hanging near the counter, now tilted from the chaos. He stepped closer, brushing off the dust. The image showed a smiling man in his late forties, wearing an apron with the supermarket's logo. The name below the photo read:
"Owner: Matt Darren – Serving You Since 1997"
Loid's breath hitched.
The monster. It was him.
A chill ran down his spine as he pieced it together. Matt loved this place. It was his life. And now, even as a monster, he wouldn't leave it.
Loid staggered back, his heart hammering. He had been trapped inside this thing's domain.
Then, the faintest sound—a scraping noise from behind him.
Loid spun around, raising his bat, ready to strike.
But there was nothing.
Nothing but shadows stretching along the walls.
Then, a whisper.
A voice, distant yet clear.
"You… should have left too."
Loid's body went rigid. The voice wasn't human. It was guttural, layered, like multiple tones speaking in unison.
He turned his head slowly—toward the glass doors leading to the storage area.
And then he saw it.
The monster.
It stood just beyond the broken barricade, its grotesque form hunched over, its hollow eyes fixed on Loid. Its massive claws twitched, saliva dripping from its jagged mouth.
Loid's breath hitched. It had been watching him the whole time.
The thing took a slow step forward, its long fingers dragging against the floor. The supermarket lights flickered, casting its monstrous shadow over the walls.
Loid felt his pulse race. This was it.
His mind screamed for action. Run. Fight. Do something.
Loid turned sharply, sprinting toward the back storage room. His boots pounded against the floor as he ducked past fallen shelves and scattered debris. Behind him, the monster let out a deep, guttural growl—a sound so primal it sent ice through his veins.
It was chasing him.
Loid slammed his shoulder against the storage door, bursting through into the darkened room. He shoved a metal rack against the entrance just as a massive claw swiped through the gap, barely missing him.
The monster roared, slamming its weight against the door. The metal bent under the force.
Loid's eyes darted around. Think. Think.
There—a loading dock. An exit.
He sprinted toward it, throwing his weight against the heavy latch. It wouldn't budge. Locked from the outside.
Another crash from behind. The monster was breaking through.
Desperate, Loid grabbed a crowbar from a nearby shelf, wedging it under the latch. With a strained grunt, he pried it open. The door burst outward, flooding the room with cold night air.
Loid didn't hesitate. He ran.
The supermarket disappeared behind him as he sprinted into the open. The city beyond was eerily silent, the once-busy streets now abandoned. No lights. No sirens. Nothing.
He kept running, his breath ragged, his thoughts spiraling.
He was alone.
And he had nowhere to go.
Loid collapsed against the side of a wrecked car, his body trembling from exhaustion. His fingers twitched as he gripped his bat, his knuckles white.
The world had changed.
He wasn't just running from monsters anymore.
He was running from what was left of humanity.
And something deep inside him knew—he wasn't the same either.
"Mom... Dad... Brother… where are you guys…?"
Loid's voice barely came out as a whisper, cracking under the weight of exhaustion and despair. His body trembled, his limbs sore from running, from fighting, from surviving. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.
A sharp pain jolted through him, but he barely noticed. His mind was drowning in the emptiness of his surroundings, in the terrifying silence of a world that had suddenly become alien to him.
His lips quivered before he bit down—hard. Too hard. A metallic taste flooded his mouth as blood trickled from the wound. He exhaled sharply, his breath shaky.
He shut his eyes tightly, forcing himself to think, to push through the overwhelming fear clawing at his chest.
"No. I can't give up. Not yet."
His breathing steadied as a thought surfaced in his mind.
"That's it. I'll find a shelter. The government must have done something to protect its people. They couldn't have just let everyone die. There must be a safe zone somewhere."
Hope flickered in his chest—small, but enough to keep him moving.
Then—
A low growl.
Loid's muscles tensed.
His eyes snapped open just in time to see a shadow rushing toward him, moving with unnatural speed.
A monster
It wasn't tall, but its agility was terrifying. It lunged forward, blood dripping from its maw, its body a blur of motion. Its dark skin looked like the abyss itself, its flesh seemingly absorbing the dim light around it.
Loid barely had time to react.
His fingers twitched as he gripped his bat, raising it with every ounce of strength he had left.
SMACK
The bat cut through the air—but missed
The creature twisted mid-air, dodging the strike with inhuman reflexes.
Loid's heart pounded as the monster lunged again, jaws unhinged, revealing razor-sharp, wolf-like teeth.
It was aiming for his neck.
Loid barely managed to jerk his head away at the last second. He felt the cold air brush against his skin as the teeth snapped shut just inches away. Too close.
The monster landed, growling, its hollow eyes locked onto him.
Loid tightened his grip on the bat, sweat dripping down his temple. His mind raced.
"It's too fast. If I don't do something now, I'm dead."
The creature lunged again, this time lower, aiming for his legs.
Loid jumped back, barely escaping its claws.
Then, in that split second—he saw it.
A weakness.
The monster's momentum.
It was too fast for its own good.
Loid planted his foot firmly against the pavement and, instead of stepping back—he stepped forward.
The monster was already mid-lunge. It couldn't stop.
With every ounce of power left in his body, Loid swung the bat.
CRACK
The wooden bat slammed into the creature's skull with full force. The impact sent a sickening vibration through Loid's arms.
The monster let out a choked, gurgling sound as its body twisted unnaturally, its legs collapsing beneath it.
It hit the ground hard. Twitched. Then went still.
Loid stood over the body, his chest rising and falling heavily. His hands trembled around the bat's handle, his mind struggling to process what just happened.
He had killed it.
He had actually killed it.
His breath hitched as he looked down at the unmoving corpse, its lifeless eyes staring into nothing. The dark skin now seemed dull, lifeless. The monster was once human—just like the others.
Just like Ziad and Mia.
Just like everyone who had turned.
His stomach twisted. His grip on the bat loosened for a moment before he quickly tightened it again.
"No. I can't think about that now. If I hesitate, I die."
He exhaled sharply, forcing the thoughts out of his mind.
Then, gripping the bat tightly, he turned away and stepped forward
Loid's breath came in sharp, ragged bursts. His hand trembled around the bat, slick with blood, as he staggered away from the monstrous corpse at his feet. His heart pounded, a constant throb in his ears. The terror of the fight still gripped him, but there was something else—something unsettling that he couldn't shake.
The air felt thick. It wasn't just the remnants of violence hanging heavy in the air; there was something wrong with the silence that had settled over everything. He looked around, but the empty street offered no answers, only shadows stretching across the cracked pavement.
Loid blinked, trying to clear the haze from his mind. The whole world around him seemed too still, too unnatural. His eyes kept darting, searching for any movement, any sign of life. But there was nothing. Only the distant echo of his own breath.
He moved forward, unsure of where to go, but driven by an instinct to keep moving, to keep putting distance between himself and the aftermath. His footsteps echoed in the stillness, almost like they were mocking him.
But then—
A sound.
At first, it was faint. A whisper. Barely perceptible. He froze, his heart hammering in his chest. It came again, this time louder. A raspy voice, low and desperate, like someone clinging to the last thread of consciousness.
"Help me..."
Loid's stomach churned. He spun around, scanning the abandoned street. There was no one in sight. No movement. He was alone.
But the voice… it was real. It had to be.
He took a cautious step forward, his feet heavy on the cracked concrete. His grip tightened around the bat, the only thing keeping him tethered to reality as his mind reeled. He followed the voice, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
The source of the whisper wasn't far.
Loid rounded a corner, and the sight before him made his stomach twist with horror.
There, in the middle of the street, was a body—pale, bloodstained, and barely breathing. He could hear the ragged, shallow gasps that came from it, a sound that seemed to break the silence in an almost painful way.
He stepped closer, the figure still unnoticed by the world around them. It was a man, no more than a few feet from Loid, sprawled on the cold pavement. His clothes were torn, soaked with blood, and his chest barely moved.
His chest barely moved.
Loid dropped to his knees, his breath catching in his throat as he leaned closer. The man's face was pale, drained of color, but—there was something familiar about it.
No.
His heart skipped a beat as the realization hit him like a punch to the gut.
It was him.
The bloodied figure, still and lifeless, looked exactly like Loid. Same eyes, same sharp features, same face. But there was no life in it.
Loid froze, his body numb with disbelief. He reached out slowly, trembling fingers brushing against the cold skin of the doppelgänger.
The man's eyes fluttered open.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
And then—
"Help me…"
The voice was weak, rasping, like it didn't have the strength to be anything more. The lips trembled as they parted to form the words, and Loid's blood ran cold.
But before Loid could respond, before he could even process the sight of his own reflection staring back at him from the bloodied face of this stranger—
The eyes rolled back.
The breath stopped.
And the body went limp.
Loid's heart thudded in his chest as he recoiled, pulling back, almost as if the corpse might suddenly spring to life. He stumbled backward, his mind reeling with confusion and terror. Was he dreaming? Had he died, and this was some twisted echo of his last moments?
The world spun, the dark street closing in around him, and for a moment, Loid wasn't sure if he was even still awake.
Was this real?
Before he could process any of it, something in his gut told him to get out.
Without another glance at the body, Loid turned on his heel and ran
His footsteps pounded against the pavement, drowning out the whispers, the chilling echoes of his own name. The air felt thick, stifling. The world around him was too still, too empty. There were no answers, only questions that gnawed at his mind like a slow burn.
What the fuck is happening?
-
Fin