Story 891: The Swarm of the Hollowborn

The sky darkened, but it wasn’t the setting sun.

It was them.

From the ruins, the Hollowborn Spawn crawled into the streets—twisted horrors with elongated jaws, serrated tongues, and mutated bodies sculpted by pure nightmare. Their veins glowed faintly, pulsating with the infection’s sentient will.

Evelyn gritted her teeth. "They're adapting again."

Leon wiped blood from his forehead, his pulse hammering. "How do we kill something that won’t stay dead?"

Reaper chambered a fresh round into his shotgun. "We don’t." He cracked his neck. "We run."

But there was nowhere left to run.

The Flood Begins

The first Hollowborn lunged—a blur of muscle and claws.

Reaper fired, blowing half its head off.

The thing staggered, twitched… then screamed.

From its ruined skull, new tendrils erupted, reshaping its missing flesh. It was healing—no, transforming.

"Shit!" Mia screamed as two more creatures leapt from the rooftops, their razor-lined tongues lashing out.