The corridor beyond the door was dimly lit, the failing fluorescent bulbs flickering weakly overhead. Ethan quickly scanned the surroundings, his ears straining for any sounds. The hallway was eerily silent save for the distant moans echoing from various parts of the building.

Lily, still clutching the metal pipe, stayed close behind him. Her small frame seemed to blend into the shadows as they moved stealthily forward.

They came across an intersection of corridors. To the left, a faint light emanated from an open doorway. To the right, the hallway continued into the darkness. And straight ahead, the corridor ended with a stairwell door slightly ajar, a pale blue light seeping through.

Ethan crouched, pulling Lily close. "Do you have any idea where your mom might be?" he whispered.

Lily hesitated, her fingers tracing patterns on the metal pipe. "Well, her office is on the first floor. She used to bring me there sometimes, so I know what it looks like. But I don't know if she's there now."

Ethan processed the information. They were on the second floor, which meant they had to get to the stairwell and down to the first. "Okay," he said, making a quick decision. "We'll head for the stairwell. It's likely the most direct route down. Once we're on the first floor, you'll have to guide me to her office."

Lily nodded, her eyes scanning the hallway for any movement. "Got it."

The duo approached the stairwell door cautiously. Ethan slowly pushed it open, revealing a flight of stairs bathed in the pale glow of emergency lights. They descended slowly, Ethan leading the way, keeping his ears alert for any signs of the undead.

Upon reaching the landing, they were greeted with another corridor, much like the one they had just left. This one, however, had several doors on either side, likely leading to various offices. The soft hum of a vending machine came from the end of the corridor, the light from its screen casting an eerie glow.

"Lily, can you point me to your mom's office?" Ethan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lily looked around, trying to orient herself. "It's... it's further down. Two doors past the vending machine on the left."

The pair crept forward, their footsteps echoing softly. As they approached the third door on the left, Ethan noticed a faint light emanating from beneath it. Cautiously, he approached and pressed his ear against the door. There were faint voices, too muffled to make out clearly.

His heart raced. Could it be survivors? Or perhaps a group of those creatures attracted by some noise?

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Ethan held up a hand, signaling for Lily to stay put. He gently tried the handle, only to find it locked – indicating that there could be survivors inside. He knocked softly, trying to get the attention of whoever was inside without drawing unwanted attention from elsewhere in the building.

"Who is it?" a muffled voice responded hesitantly.

"My name is Ethan, and I have a little girl named Lily with me," he whispered, pressing his face closer to the door. "We're looking for her mother. We're not infected."

A moment of tense silence passed, then a series of soft clicks and the sound of moving furniture. The door cracked open, revealing a tired-looking woman with short-cropped hair and a man with a makeshift bandage wrapped around his forearm. The dim light from the room illuminated their anxious faces.

They quickly ushered Ethan and Lily inside, locking the door behind them. The room was modestly lit with a few battery-operated lanterns. It seemed like a break room of sorts, with a small kitchenette at one end and a table surrounded by chairs in the center. Another man, younger with a scruffy beard, sat at the table, his eyes watching the newcomers warily.

The woman with the cropped hair tried to form a smile, a hint of weariness in her eyes. "What does your mom look like, sweetie?" she asked gently.

Lily hesitated, her eyes darting to Ethan for reassurance. Sensing her apprehension, Ethan gently prodded, "Lily, can you show them the picture of your mom?"

Lily's small hands reached into the pocket of her dirt-smudged jeans, pulling out a slightly creased photograph. With quivering fingers, she handed it over to the woman.

The room seemed to grow colder as the three survivors studied the photograph. It portrayed a radiant woman with brown hair, her eyes brimming with life and laughter, standing next to Lily. Their joy was captured in that brief moment, a stark contrast to the present reality.

The young man with the scruffy beard broke the silence, his voice cracking. "I've... I've seen her."

The woman's eyes welled up as she handed the photograph back to Lily, her fingers trembling. The man with the bandaged arm looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"Where is she?" Ethan's voice was urgent, hopeful. "Is she okay?"

The room was thick with tension, each second feeling like an eternity. The young man swallowed hard, struggling with his words. "She... she was with us," he whispered, tears streaming down his face. "But during an attack, she... she got separated. We... we tried looking for her, but..." His voice trailed off, the weight of guilt and sorrow evident in his eyes.

The room was suffocating in its silence. Lily's gaze shifted between the faces, the reality slowly dawning on her. Her grip on the photograph tightened, crinkling the edges. "No... she can't be..." her voice trembled, disbelief and despair evident in her tone.

The woman with the cropped hair moved closer, her eyes filled with empathy. "I'm so, so sorry, Lily," she murmured, pulling the young girl into a gentle embrace.

A tortured scream ripped from Lily's lips, echoing with the raw despair of a shattered heart. Her scream vibrated through the room, making everyone freeze in place. The immediate aftermath was filled only by her wrenching sobs. Then, a chilling counterpoint began: from beyond the door, the unmistakable groans of the undead responded back.