The halls of Virex had become a chapel of rot.
Lena slammed the chamber door shut, locking out the black-eyed followers. Behind her, Briggs gasped from a makeshift cot, the infection spreading beneath his skin like wildfire. They were now trapped inside one of the old Virex observation rooms, lit by a flickering emergency lamp overhead.
THE GIRL:
“What are they?”
WARD (checking his weapon):
“Not turned. Not normal. Something else.”
On the far wall, an enormous diagram was etched in blood and soot. A twisting helix spiraled outward, branching into limbs, eyes, and mouths. Beneath it, a phrase was scrawled in all caps:
“THE FLESH MUST AWAKEN TO BE FREE.”
Lena knelt beside an old terminal, fingers working fast.
LENA:
“There’s still data here. Video logs... lab notes... sermons?”
She loaded one. Static filled the screen, then slowly resolved into a man in a Virex coat standing in front of a chalkboard covered in symbols. His eyes gleamed with manic pride.