Paris flipped through the folder again, her hands trembling as her eyes scanned the pages. Each one was worse than the last, documenting failed experiments on human test subjects—gruesome accounts of lives ruined, bodies deformed, and minds shattered. Her pulse quickened as she discovered something even more unsettling: there were other facilities like Specter, scattered across the globe. At least ten were in her own state, Georgia.

How could I not know? she thought, her chest tight with disbelief and horror. I thought we were working on cures—on saving lives. Instead, they were experimenting on people. Real people. The thought made her sick to her stomach. She flipped to a page with photographs—black-and-white images of the test subjects, their haunted eyes staring back at her from beyond the grave. Then there were the biographies, details about each person’s life before they were turned into nothing more than an experiment.

Her eyes widened as she read further. Oh no… they were… Her mind reeled as she realized what the experiments were leading to, but before she could fully process it, a loud noise from outside the room startled her. Paris clutched the folder close to her chest and hastily shoved both the box and the papers back into her suitcase. Her heart raced as fear crept up her spine. She wasn’t ready to open that box—not yet.

She looked at Eli, her eyes full of sorrow and guilt. "I didn’t know, Eli," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn’t know what my place of work was hiding… what they were doing." Her words felt hollow as if nothing she could say would ever be enough to make up for what Specter had done, but before Eli could respond they were interrupted.

A tall, dark-skinned woman with long braids in blue scrubs stepped closer, noticing Paris’s distress. "Are you okay, baby?" she asked in a calm but firm voice.

Paris, still shaken, could only mutter, "I didn’t know… I didn’t know."

The woman frowned, concern growing in her eyes. "Didn’t know what, honey?"

Paris whispered, "Anything. I didn’t know what they were doing."

"I’m Janice," the woman said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Paris’s shoulder. "I’m a nurse here."

Before Paris could respond, a slim, light-skinned man stepped out of the shadows, his straight black hair covering one eye. "Not for long," he muttered.

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Eli, Paris, and Janice turned to him. "What do you mean by that?" Eli asked, his voice steady but weary.

The young man shrugged. "I was just here to fix the servers, but… it is what it is." His tone was detached, almost resigned.

"What’s your name, son?" Eli asked.

"Steve."

Eli nodded and then turned to the other figure in the room. "And you, sir?"

"Travis," he replied in a low, calm voice. "Maintenance guy, been here for twenty years."

Travis was tall, with tan skin and an afro. His demeanor was quiet, but his eyes took in everything, observing the room carefully.

Then there was the last man—the patient, slumped over, groaning softly. Eli approached him. "You alright?" Eli asked cautiously, but the man only moaned in response.

Steve tensed. "Hey, if you’ve been bitten or infected… you need to tell us right now."

Janice shot Steve a look. "Give him a minute! He’s probably in shock."

But the man’s groans grew louder, more labored. Travis kept his eyes on him, his expression darkening with concern. "Guys, something’s not right," he said.

They all turned toward the man, who had suddenly stopped moving. A chilling silence filled the room.

"He's not moving," Travis said, stepping closer, his voice tinged with unease.

Paris whispered, "No… no…"

Janice moved to check the man’s pulse, her fingers pressing into his neck. "He’s dead," she whispered, pulling back. Then her eyes fell on his arm—it was torn, blood oozing from the wound.

Before anyone could react, the man stirred. His body convulsed as he transformed into something monstrous, his eyes darkening with the same terrifying hunger they had seen outside.

He lunged at Janice, knocking her backward. Eli and Janice struggled to hold him off as he snarled and thrashed.

Steve grabbed a nearby object and swung it at the creature’s head, hard. Blood splattered across the floor as the creature collapsed, momentarily still.

But just as Steve turned his back, thinking it was over, the creature stirred again, rising to its feet.

Travis grabbed an oxygen tank, his face grim with determination. With one swift motion, he swung it down on the creature’s head. He didn’t stop—he kept smashing, over and over, until the creature lay lifeless on the ground, unmoving for good.

Everyone stared in silence, the weight of what had just happened sinking in. Travis stood over the body, panting, the oxygen tank still clutched tightly in his hands.

Finally, he stopped, panting heavily as he dropped the tank to the floor with a loud clang. Silence fell over the room once more.

Steve, his face pale and covered in blood, stared at the body. "That… that was close," he muttered, his voice shaky.

Paris was trembling, her entire body numb with shock. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the horrific scene before her. Janice, though shaken, stood up and tried to regain her composure. "Is everyone… okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

No one answered. The air was thick with fear and uncertainty. They had survived this encounter, but for how long? The groans and growls from outside the room reminded them that they were far from safe.