The Affiliation is a plague that twists your body into a grotesque monster craving only one thing–blood. It drove the last remnants of humanity underground into a hidden settlement known simply as The Underground. Over the years, this refuge branched off into four main areas: the vibrant heart of the community, Hollow Point; the green refuge of The Atrium; the fortified safety of the Bunker District; and the resource center known as The Exchange. Each main point has its own sub-divisions, but Hollow Point is where life thrived–until recently.
Rumors of the Affiliation appearing in Hollow Point crept through the tightly packed corridors, slipping under doors, across tables, and into the hearts of even the most resilient. Furtive glances and anxious whispers became the norm. No one wanted to be next. Those who showed even a hint of a fever were sent away, banished to the outskirts. Emma, Liam, and Sophie huddled together in Hollow Point’s dimly lit Forge, the warmth of the fire flickering across their worried faces. The Forge was a rare place of industry, where scrap metal became tools and weapons, a symbol of survival–but tonight, it felt like a cage. “Another Reclaimed went missing,” Emma whispered, her voice barely audible. Her shadow manipulation powers cast fleeting dark shapes across the walls, mirroring her unease. Liam clenched his fists, muscles rippling under his worn sleeves. “That’s the fourth one this week,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble. The sound echoed in the confined space, mixing with the rhythmic clanging from the blacksmith’s hammer. His enhanced strength and speed gave him a sense of control in this twisted world, but lately, he’d felt powerless against the encroaching threat.
Sophie glanced between them, her empathic abilities drawing in their fear and anxiety like a sponge. It was a curse and a blessing; she sensed the danger approaching before the others did, but at the cost of feeling every pang of terror in her bones. “What if its not the Forsaken?” she said softly, her voice barely above a breath. “What if it’s…something else?” Liam raised an eyebrow, his voice edged with impatience. “What else could it be?”
Emma looked away, her gaze lost in the fire. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something far worse was lurking beneath the surface. “The Exchange is where they’re taking the sick. If they’re hiding anything, it would be there.” Liam and Sophie exchanged glances. The Exchange was a maze of storage rooms, guarded entries, and shadowed corridors–a place where supplies were rationed, weapons stored, and whispers of power shifted in the dark. Going there without permission was dangerous, but avoiding it meant living in fear.
“Then we go to The Exchange,” Liam said, his voice unyielding.
The Exchange loomed ahead, shrouded in shadows that seemed to ripple with their own life. Its metal doors were shut tight, guards stationed at every entry point. It was as if the entire area held its breath, hiding secrets that stretched far deeper than the supplies within.
Stolen story; please report.
“Getting past them won’t be easy,” Sophie murmured, sensing a thick wall of suspicion emanating from the guards. “They’re tense. If we try to slip by, they’ll be onto us in seconds.” Emma’s eyes narrowed, her fingers tracing patterns in the air as she began weaving a thin veil of shadows around them. “Let me try something.” Shadows pooled at their feet, swallowing their shapes in a misty shroud. It wasn’t invisibility, but it was enough to blur their figures as they edged closer to the guarded door.
They slipped around the corner, ducking into the narrow Drifters’ Tunnel–a forgotten passage that wound along the back of The Exchange. Used by those who weren’t fully part of the settlement, the tunnel was often overlooked, but it led straight into The Exchange’s storage areas. The walls felt closer here, cold and damp, as if pressing them deeper underground. Strange sounds echoed through the narrow space– the creak of settling earth, the drip of unseen water, the faint hum of machinery.
At the end of the tunnel, a rusted door stood ajar, opening into the lower storage rooms of The Exchange. Emma raised a hand, signaling the others to pause. They listened, hearts pounding, breaths shallow. From beyond the door, a muffled sound carried through the walls– a low, guttural growl, followed by the distinct clink of chains. Emma’s shadowy cloak faltered as fear prickled along her spine. She had heard those kinds of sounds before, in nightmares and memories that she tried to bury.
“What is that?” Liam whispered, his fingers tightening around a makeshift knife. Sophie’s face paled, her senses picking up a wave of raw anguish from the other side. “It’s…not fully forsaken,” she whispered, feeling the faint remnants of a human mind, fractured and twisted beyond recognition. Emma steadied herself, her shadow powers wrapping tightly around them once more. “Let’s move. We need to see what they’re hiding.” As they crept through the dimly lit storage room, rows of crates and shelves cast long, sinister shadows, creating an obstacle course of concealment. They followed the growls and murmurs, the sounds leading them to a secluded chamber in the back, hidden behind rows of stacked metal crates. Inside the chamber, Emma’s heart stopped. There, chained to the wall, was one of the Reclaimed they’d seen patrolling just days before. His eyes were wild, his body twisted and contorted as if fighting a transformation. He thrashed against his restraints, a gurgling snarl escaping his cracked lips.
The guard monitoring him turned sharply, noticing their shadows shifting in the doorway. In a split second, he pulled an alarm—a piercing wail that filled the underground corridors, alerting everyone in The Exchange.
“RUN!” Emma shouted, A second door burst open, and more guards flooded the room, weapons drawn. Trapping Emma, Liam, and Sophie with nowhere left to go.And then, in the chaotic whirl of alarms and shadows, the chained Reclaimed broke free.