Chapter 354

The virus spread faster than anyone could've anticipated. It wasn't like the others. It wasn't like the flu, or Ebola, or any of the things the world had prepped for. This one... it had a purpose.

Mila had heard the rumors first. The small stories circulating in the back alleys of the internet. People posting blurry footage of something... different. At first, they thought it was a prank.

Someone in a mask, playing on the fears of a world already paranoid about a thousand things. But then, it began to show up on the news.

People in distant places—the ones who'd gotten sick first—acting strange. More than strange. Unhinged. People screaming, fighting, but not for food or shelter. They fought for something more.

At first, she didn't believe it. She thought it was the media. Spinning their usual horror stories. But then the power went out. The phone lines cut. It wasn't long before the neighbors started screaming.

Their screams were sharp, ragged. Like they knew something was coming but couldn't stop it. Mila could feel it, the way the air seemed to tremble with every passing minute.

She sat by her window, peering out through the blinds, and watched the chaos unfold. People rushed through the streets, desperate, scrambling, pushing and pulling each other. But they weren't running from what Mila expected. They were running toward it. Toward those things.

The things that used to be human.

They weren't like zombies from the movies. They didn't shuffle, didn't groan. No, these things were fast. They were strong. So much stronger than a regular human. And they were hungry.

She'd heard it all from the people who'd come by her apartment, pounding on her door, begging for safety. Some claimed the infected were like gods now, with powers beyond human comprehension. Others swore that the virus turned its victims into something... else. Something twisted. Something... violent.

Mila had tried to stay calm. She tried to reason with herself. People were scared, panicked. Maybe they were exaggerating. Maybe she could wait it out. Maybe everything would go back to normal in a day or two.

But as the hours dragged on, she realized that normal was long gone.

It was about three in the morning when it happened. The sound of pounding fists against her door. Not the gentle knocks of neighbors asking to borrow milk or checking if she was okay. No. These knocks were frantic. Desperate.

She opened the door, just a crack, to find Derek standing there. His face was pale, his clothes torn. His hands were shaking. His eyes were wide with fear, his breath ragged.

"They're coming," he gasped, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the hallway. "They're everywhere. They... they have powers. You don't understand, Mila, they're not human anymore. You gotta come with me, you gotta—"

But before he could finish, a loud crash rang through the building. The floor beneath their feet shook. A figure—tall, covered in what looked like blood and dirt—crashed through the window of the apartment at the end of the hall.

Mila froze, her heart pounding in her chest. The figure didn't stop. It wasn't just a mindless, lumbering creature. No, it moved with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for something human.

"Derek—!" Mila started to scream, but her words were cut off when the figure turned its head, locking eyes with her. A moment of silence passed. Mila's chest felt tight, like the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Then, in the blink of an eye, it lunged.

Derek grabbed her hand and yanked her away, pulling her down the stairs, his breath coming in ragged gasps. They didn't look back. They couldn't. They just ran.

Outside, the streets were chaos. People screaming, running in every direction. Some were being dragged away by the infected, their cries echoing through the night. Others—those who hadn't been turned—fought back. Guns, knives, anything they could find, but it was useless. They were outmatched.

Mila's feet slammed against the pavement, her body screaming for rest, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't. Not with them coming. Not with those things chasing them.

Derek pulled her into an alley, out of sight for a moment. She barely had time to catch her breath before he was on his feet again, urging her to move.

"We need to get to the safe zone," Derek said, his voice a harsh whisper. "The government... they're offering protection. They'll take us in."

Mila nodded, but she wasn't sure she believed him. The safe zones were only stories now. Rumors whispered by those who had given up hope of surviving.

But Derek kept moving, dragging her along with him. It felt like hours, but in reality, it was only minutes. Minutes before the world changed completely.

They reached a street corner, and that's when Mila saw it. A group of the infected. But they weren't just walking. They were... talking. Or something like it. They seemed to be communicating, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Their bodies were contorted, twisting in ways that should've been impossible. But it wasn't the movements that frightened Mila. It was the way they seemed to know what they were doing. The way they moved with purpose. They weren't mindless. They were... strategic.

Then, one of them turned, its gaze meeting hers. A smile—a twisted, broken thing—spread across its face.

"Mila," it said, its voice rasping like gravel. "It's time."

Before Mila could react, Derek yanked her away again, pushing her into another alley.

"What the hell was that?" Mila gasped, breathless.

"I don't know," Derek said, his voice shaky. "But... we're not safe. We can't outrun them forever."

They stopped, standing in the shadows. Derek's body shook. His eyes darted nervously around the street. He kept looking back, expecting the infected to be right behind them.

But they weren't. Not yet.

The silence stretched for what felt like forever. Mila could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her chest rising and falling as she tried to control her breathing. She could feel the weight of what was happening—the world collapsing around her.

And then, the sound of footsteps.

Mila turned to look at Derek. His face had gone pale, and he was looking behind her. Slowly, she turned, her blood running cold when she saw the figure standing in the alley entrance.

It wasn't one of the infected. It was a person. But it wasn't just any person. This person was... different. Taller, with glowing eyes. Their skin was mottled, a patchwork of red and black. The veins in their arms pulsed with unnatural light.

They grinned, showing sharp teeth.

Mila felt a sickening chill run down her spine. She couldn't run anymore. She couldn't even think. The terror paralyzed her.

"Mila," the figure said. "It's better this way. You don't want to fight. You don't want to die."

Derek stepped in front of her, his voice shaking. "Stay back! Stay the hell away from us!"

The figure didn't even flinch. Instead, it stepped forward, and before Mila could even blink, it was upon them. Derek was lifted off his feet, his body twisting in a grotesque manner as the figure crushed him with a single hand.

Mila screamed, but there was nothing she could do. The figure turned its eyes on her, and she felt a sudden, terrifying sense of familiarity.

She had seen this person before.

The figure's smile widened, and in a low, rasping voice, it whispered her name. "I always knew you would make it this far."

And then, it raised its hand. The world around her twisted. Mila collapsed to her knees, the sounds of screams ringing in her ears, the visions of the world spinning uncontrollably.

The infection... it had already taken her.