Story 904: The Last Scientist

Mira awoke to the sharp scent of burning wood and decay. Her body ached, her head pounding from whatever force had thrown her and Draven out of the collapsing house. She groaned, pushing herself up from the damp earth.

The night was quiet—too quiet. The mist had thinned, but its presence still lingered like a whisper in the air. Draven sat nearby, reloading his shotgun, his expression unreadable.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Define 'okay'," Mira muttered, rubbing her temple. "Where are we?"

Draven gestured ahead. A ruined building stood in the distance, its skeletal remains barely holding together. A faded sign dangled from rusted chains above the entrance, barely legible: Ridgefield Research Institute.

Mira’s stomach twisted. She knew this place.

"We have to leave," she said immediately.

Draven frowned. "Why?"

"Because this is where it started."