Chapter 11
The small clearing that had been crowded with people just moments ago was now nothing more than a blood-soaked ruin, shredded bodies scattered like discarded trash. The air reeked of blood and rot, thick and suffocating. Broken chainsaws and snapped blades lay around, torn apart like ruined toys.
Only three people were still alive. But none dared to make a sound.
They were waiting. Waiting for an opening, maybe even waiting for death—delaying the inevitable.
Earl couldn't run. He lay flat on the ground, his face pressed against the dirt, chest resting against the landmine that could leap into action at any second. He forced his mind to go blank, but his back muscles twitched uncontrollably. Cold sweat dripped down his neck, soaking into his collar. He didn't even dare swallow—the tiniest noise might sound like a gunshot and give him away.
Maverick was waiting too, lying atop the unconscious Dr. Chan. For a brief moment, he envied him—perhaps passing out was a kind of mercy, sparing him the sight of the horrors surrounding them. But Maverick couldn't stop his fingers from trembling. He kept a wary eye on their captors, thoughts racing. These things could ambush, flank, deceive—they weren't mindless beasts. This wasn't like the zombies in movies.
Not far away, several twisted figures busied themselves with grim work. They varied in shape and size, but all were deformed in monstrous ways. One creature rummaged through the body of a young hunter, eagerly tearing away the shredded bulletproof vest. Then, with bare hands, it ripped open his chest cavity and pulled out fresh, bloody organs.
"Ah—fresh!" It screeched, gleefully stuffing a chunk of liver into its mouth. Blood dripped down its chin, splattering onto the boots of the corpse beneath it.
"Don't hog it!" Another creature smacked it, claws clicking sharply against its skull. The first one actually looked a bit sheepish, grumbling as it dumped the remaining liver into a black plastic bag, along with a coiled-up set of intestines.
The stench of blood and rot was overwhelming, making the air thick enough to choke on.
Then, heavy footsteps echoed through the silence—slow, steady, deliberate.
Someone was approaching.
Maverick dared not look. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw a massive shadow stretch over them, pressing the air down with its sheer presence.
He forced his body to go limp, playing dead. In the process, he noticed something terrifying—Dr. Chan's chest was rising and falling, just slightly. But noticeably more than before.
He was waking up.
No. No, no, no—don't wake up! Maverick screamed in his mind. Please, Chan, just stay unconscious—
Thankfully, the towering figure had stopped in front of Earl instead. It crouched down slowly, seeming to study him.
Earl's mind buzzed, his heartbeat hammering so hard it felt like his ribcage would burst. He lay still like a lifeless animal, but the sweat on his back was pooling fast.
His thoughts scrambled, grasping for anything, praying for a miracle. He even started to repent—to plead in his mind for forgiveness. And in that desperate moment, he realized just how much harm he had caused without ever noticing before.
And then—maybe his prayers worked.
The leader of the creatures picked up on something. A tiny movement.
Maverick felt it too.
Beneath him, Dr. Chan's body twitched.
A sharp gasp escaped Chan's lips as his eyes fluttered open.
In that instant, time shattered.
The noise was small, but in the dead silence, it thundered like an explosion.
Maverick's pupils shrank. He lunged to clamp a hand over Chan's mouth—but it was too late.
He turned his head—
And saw it.
It had already turned too.
And now they were staring straight at each other.
The creature was humanoid—but its skin was gone. Only rust-red muscles stretched over its frame, veins writhing like snakes beneath the surface. Its face had no lips, just rows upon rows of gleaming white teeth—built to crush bone.
It had locked its gaze onto them.
That look—it didn't just capture them. It imprisoned them.
Maverick felt his insides tighten, his bones turning cold.
"We're exposed," he thought.
---
"Burp."
In the eerie silence, Earl let out a hiccup.
The sudden, ridiculous sound made the monster pause. It seemed... confused. The air grew even quieter, thick with tension.
Maverick watched, his expression blank—like a light snuffed out. Then, suddenly, he laughed. Not a joyful laugh, but one filled with bitter resignation, as if he'd just abandoned some invisible restraint. He shifted, sitting up, stretching his stiff neck, then looked at the skinned creature and let out another weary chuckle.
"He's lying on a jumping mine," Maverick said, his voice low yet clear."If he moves, that meat's gonna be cooked—medium rare."
The monster leader narrowed its eyes, as if understanding him. Yet, it remained still.
Its gaze shifted, locking onto Maverick's chest—where his volunteer badge sat. For a brief moment, its eyes carried something strange. Not fear. Not rage. More like... recognition. A wary kind of awareness.
It knew that badge.
And in the next second, it moved—fast, too fast for the eye to follow. It grabbed Earl like a ragdoll, swift and decisive.
Earl couldn't hold back his fear anymore. A scream tore from his throat.
His body twisted in the monster's grip, and the mine beneath him slipped free, tumbling into the air, bouncing up like a coin flipped in slow motion.
Earl could 'see' the sparks from the round explosive. His heart nearly stopped.
But just as the mine was about to explode—the monster leader struck.
Its hand sliced through the air like a blade. The pressure split the atmosphere itself.
The mine shattered into fragments, sparks flashing for a brief instant before fading.
Silence.
Earl remained frozen, his lips trembling, unable to speak. His face seemed locked in shock. Even Maverick sat stiff, stunned.
"...That's it?" Maverick muttered, as if talking to himself.
The monster leader studied the broken remains of the mine, then glanced at Maverick again. Its expression unreadable.
"Why did you do that?" it asked."Do you... want to survive?"
It spoke. In human language.
Maverick's pupils shrank. His voice rasped as he stammered,"Do you... want a dinner fork?"
The monster paused—then let out a deep, grating laugh. A chilling sound, sharp and unnatural. And yet—somehow—it almost looked amused.
It lowered its gaze, staring again at Maverick's badge. Its fingers brushed over it lightly, as if remembering something long buried in time.
Maverick's chest tightened."You... know this symbol?"
"They are enemies. Hunters… We hope 'you' are not."
Its words were low, deliberate.
Then, as if it were casually gathering supplies, the monster tossed Earl to its subordinates. A moment later, it grabbed Maverick and Dr. Chan, lifting them effortlessly, striding swiftly toward the dark forest.
Vines hung like reaching fingers. The air was damp, cold. Beneath the soil, something stirred—something alive.
The monster walked quickly, yet with perfect silence, moving as though it had belonged in this terrain all its life.
Maverick didn't resist. He simply observed, quietly calculating.
A sinking realization crept through him.
These creatures… weren't 'just' looking for food.
They had a purpose.
---
Meanwhile…
Lee curled into a filthy corner of the quarantine zone, his clothes torn, his face streaked with blood and grime. His whole body trembled.
Out of a seven-man squad, only 'he' remained.
The silence around him was suffocating. Rot lingered in the air like a warning. He sat slumped against the wreckage, his shaking hands wiping at the sweat on his face. His earpiece crackled faintly.
"Kid, do you want to stay useless forever? Just a mindless lapdog obeying orders?"
Lee let out a faint, bitter laugh, exhaustion dripping from his voice."Boss, do I even *have* a choice?"
"…Join the special ops team. You might still have a shot."
"I'll think about it… Wait. What did you say? You planted a mole? Someone on the inside?"
Lee was silent for two full seconds. Then, he took a deep breath.
"…If that's the case, I'm in."
In his eyes—fire flickered again.
The hunger to break free. To win.
---