The end began quietly, faint murmurs on the news, lost among talks of climate and fleeting trends — until it grew too loud to ignore.

She remembered hearing about it on the playground — children echoing what they had overheard from their parents. “My mom says it’s just another disease because they’re poor,” a girl stated during a game of marbles. “It was created in a lab in China! That’s for sure.” This was Ryan, and she didn’t like him much. It seemed everyone had something to say. Yet, her mom avoided the subject, shifting whenever she started asking questions. Her own parents didn’t know.

They started arguing after a while, usually late at night when she was in bed. She could make out some words through the cracks of her door. Her dad’s voice tried to be soft, but he wanted to be heard. “We’re not gonna be like those people! We’ll be careful… we can home-school her for a bit if it comes to that.” She didn’t like the idea. Her friends would do so many things without her, and they would forget her. She wanted to go to school.

For a while, she had kept going. But soon enough, they all started carrying a mask. It was scratchy, and she couldn’t smile or stick out her tongue when Ryan annoyed her — she didn’t like that. The teacher wore it under the nose even though he wasn’t supposed to. She also had to clean her hands more than usual, and the gel dried her skin and made it red. She didn’t like that either.

One day, her mom woke her up later than usual, the sun already out and the smell of waffles in the air. “Hey, sweetie, you’re not going to school today,” her mom said softly while she rubbed her sleepy eyes. “You’re gonna stay home. Just like a holiday!” She didn’t think much of it, and breakfast was delicious.

The holidays dragged on for a long time. They watched TV more than usual, even while they ate. The men on TV talked about a lot of accidents and angry people. First in countries she had heard about in school — then in places closer to home. She even saw the president on TV. He talked for a long time with words she didn’t really understand, but he looked very serious.

After that, her parents fought even when she was around.

She woke up terrified. A loud noise came from overhead outside the house. A bright white light accompanied the sound of blades rotating in the night. “THIS IS AN EMERGENCY WARNING. PLEASE VACATE YOUR HOMES IN ORDERLY FASHION. PACK UP ESSENTIAL ITEMS AND FOLLOW THE EVACUATION PLAN.” She couldn’t move — the noise was horrible. She clung to the warmth of her blanket, curled tightly into herself.

There were voices outside her room: her mother’s muffled whispers and the rustling of bags. Flashes of orange light blinked through the windows, with distant rumbles almost like thunder. Her father opened the door, a look of anguish upon his face. He embraced her and carried her downstairs. “It’s okay, honey. We just need to walk a little.”

They were outside now, people everywhere — talking, crying. She was pressed against her father’s chest as they moved, his heartbeat strong against her cheek. There were men in armour, carrying guns — they reminded her of Saving Private Ryan, but scarier. Her parents followed the orders they gave, the white light blinding them every time it passed. A weird smell was in the air, almost like Sunday barbecues in the garden, yet far less pleasant.

Every so often, she caught a glimpse of her mother’s face, her eyes darting towards the sky. There was fear all around. The streetlights blinked out one by one, and the crowd around them moved faster. Short screams burst from the moving horde. Her father’s breath tousled her hair as he began to run.

People down the road had started screaming. She didn’t know why. Her mother’s hand brushed her hair. “Keep your eyes closed, sweetie,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just keep them closed. We’re almost there.”

Victoria did as she was told. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the chaos growing. The motors above were louder and everywhere now. The ground beneath her kept shaking. “Daddy, I’m scared…” she managed to utter against the fabric of her dad’s sweater.

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay, honey. Everything’s going to—“

The explosion came suddenly. It shook everything, with a terrible sound that had made her more scared than she ever had been. The air turned cold in her vision, a biting wind.

She was falling. Her hands flailed, yet no one to catch her. Her father’s arms were gone. The pavement rushed up, but she didn’t hit it. Instead, she landed softly, as if sinking into water. The buildings stretched up into jagged angles, and the whole world twisted — the sky above swirling in crimson and black.

She spun around her, searching the empty street. “Mom?” she whispered, her voice trembling. But the words wouldn’t leave her mouth; they were absorbed into darkness. Her feet splashed through a black oil spreading across the ground. The helicopters were no longer in the sky but on the ground — twisted blades, frozen, as black smoke rose from their broken shells.

She tried to move, but her legs were stuck, so she struggled.

And from the wreckage, something crawled.

Its eyes were on her, she knew, even though she couldn’t see in the dark. The thing dragged itself closer. It moved unnaturally, like it had forgotten how to walk. But no one was there to hear her scream. It reached out for her, its long fingers stretching towards her face —

She jolted awake, drenched in sweat. Pain coursed through her side as the nightmare clung to her. The sensation of falling refused to let go.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she had escaped.

#

He waited in the shadows, dying embers of a fire cast rays that danced over his face. Slouched in a wooden chair, he looked old for some reason. Years of survival etched onto his face. Still, he was probably not more than a decade older than her. He looked strong, especially in this outfit — cargo pants and a thick vest. Wearing almost all black save for brown tactical boots. Her eyes immediately went to the axe resting loosely in his hand. If he was a captor, that could prove to be a problem.

She first took in her surroundings. The room was made of stone, wet and crumbled, and clearly an improvised infirmary. She glanced at the wound in her side, her torn shirt revealing the stitches. It was amateur work but better than nothing — probably the reason she was still alive. Only then did she feel the fire inside her head, a burning fever that awoke with her — threatening to drag her back under.

Wait, where the fuck am I? The thought slammed into her. Panic flared, and for a brief moment, she was convinced Briggs had caught her and dragged her back inside the walls. The anticipation pressed her to get up.

“You really shouldn’t move,” a raspy voice calmly said. “You ought to be dead. So don’t test your luck.”

She froze. The man wasn’t asleep after all. Her arms twitched as she tried to sit up, but her wrists caught on the frame. She was restrained.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he seemed genuinely embarrassed. “I just don’t know you, so…”

Victoria’s eyes met his as she realised. He wasn’t one of them, but someone from outside.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her back onto the mattress. “Your wound is gonna need some time before you can move again. You want some water?”

Her mind was filled with burning questions; confusion clouded her senses. “Wait, where are we? Who are you? Are there really monsters out there?” Her mouth was dry and her voice hoarse, but she needed answers.

He chuckled, as confused as her. “Hey now, don’t play games with me, Victoria.”

“H-how — ” A spike of fear shot through her. For a second, the idea that they might have sent him crossed her mind again. But then, he pointed at her chest — a tag dangling from her shirt.

“I guess you shouldn’t put your name on your clothes if you don’t want people to know.”

He set his axe down against a cupboard. “Here, take a sip. I’ll check your wound.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

She felt like prey again, beaten, captured and confused. But something in his demeanour eased her panic. “I guess I should say thank you for saving my life,” she said, testing his reaction.

He glanced at her with unease. “Oh, no, I only treated your wound. You can thank yourself for the rest. Honestly, I was certain you’d die after a few hours.”

“How long was I out ?” she asked, only now realising she had no idea.

“Two days, maybe more. The darkness tends to mess with your senses.” He pressed his fingers gently around her wound, assessing it with care. “Good news is, it’s not infected,” he looked at her in anticipation. “Bad news is, you’ll need a few days before you can walk out of here.” A few days was a long time, but she had plenty now that she was finally free. Or outside the walls, at the very least.

Victoria blinked, letting the thought sink in. She had so many questions but didn’t know where to start. The truth was that the answers scared her. Outside the walls. The phrase hung weightless, terrible. The wall had been her horizon for as long as she could remember. She had planned to escape but never considered what came next. Now, she was adrift in a sea of endless possibilities — and a devastating sense of emptiness.

“You know I’m too weak to struggle. Can you untie me now ?” she muttered.

He hesitated briefly before untying her left hand, “If you try anything… Just know, people have tried before, and I’m still alive.”

Victoria nodded silently. Okay, tough guy. “You said I was out for two days,” she offered, trying to focus. “Where are we now?”

The man shrugged, his expression distant. “We’re underground; I believe we’re beneath a hill in the city. It’s mostly tunnels down here, and I’ve been trying to find a way out for a few days, maybe. But… let’s say circumstances have hindered my progress.”

“What kind of place is this?” Her voice cracked in disbelief. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped beneath the earth.

“It might have been a control centre or a hub of some sort. A place of hope after the end…” He pointed to a pile of papers on a desk nearby. “I’ve been trying to map the place and track where I’ve been. These tunnels, somewhere, they lead back up. I just need to find the right route.” He paused as if the weight of the situation finally hit him. “But it’s easier said than done. Especially with —“ His eyes flickered towards her.

“Especially with what?” she asked, impatience seeping into her voice.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, looking away. “You should rest for now; I’ll roam a little while you do.”

“So I’m just supposed to trust you won’t leave me here in the dark?” The fever was clouding her judgement.

“Listen, if I wanted to leave you for dead, I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble.” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “I’ll find a way out. I have to. Supplies are already thin, and with another mouth to feed, we don’t have much choice.”

She swallowed, her throat painfully dry. “And if you don’t?”

For a moment, the silence stretched, both expecting an answer they didn't have. “There’s always a way out,” he said with a kind of resigned certainty.

Victoria softened — she could only imagine what he had gone through in this world. And despite everything, she did owe her life to him. “You haven’t told me your name.”

He hesitated, pretending not to have heard her. Then he walked away towards a pack resting near the wall. “Alek,” he said without turning back. “Not that it matters much anymore.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow as he prepared to leave. “Well, Alek,” she said, letting the name roll off her tongue, “please find us a way out. I’m not dying down here. Not after everything.”

Glancing over his shoulder, his tired eyes caught the faint glow of the embers.

“Neither am I.”

#

Time seemed to blend into a meaningless sequence of semi-conscious events. The unrelenting darkness was interrupted by Alek’s flashlight with each coming and going. Victoria had lost any sense of day or night, and had she been in better condition, impatience would have started gnawing at her. He had warned her that the search would be slow, but there was something he withheld. Each time he left, his warnings about the tunnels were vague, yet there was a tension in his voice, a flicker of apprehension every time he crossed the door.

The fever had faded, leaving only the throb of pain that washed over her in waves. Her body felt drained, and she slept so often that everything was a succession of dreams and hallucinations. There was no choice but to let it happen if she wanted to walk again soon. But she wouldn’t lie around forever — curiosity tugged at her.

Alek wasn’t very helpful in figuring it all out. He had saved her life, yes, but there was much he was afraid to say. Admittedly, the fatigue had made her too tired to ask the right questions, but even in the smallest conversations, she could sense it — a silence that carried weight. Once, she had laid there, eyes closed, pretending to sleep as Alek rummaged through his pack. She caught snippets of his muttered words — “This was a bad idea”, “too close”. Each time he returned, his brow was furrowed deeper with worry. Or dread.

Are there really monsters out there? She had always considered them myths — a children's story — something used to keep people in line. But what else would have Alek on edge this way? Unless he was hiding something darker. For all I know, he could be feeding me bullshit. Perhaps he wanted to make sure she stayed obediently inside, under control. But her pain wouldn’t last forever; once her strength regained, she’d figure things out. She had expected the outside world to be open skies and endless plains, however terrifying it could be — not a crypt. There had to be something more.

During one of their meals — if you could call them that — she had told him.

“You know, I wasn’t kidding…” Her voice interrupted the silence hanging in the dark room.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know anything about this. And not just the tunnels; I have no idea what this world is. I grew up… in a community hidden behind walls. I’ve never been outside before this.” She tried to meet his eyes, anticipating his reaction.

“A community? You’re telling me you lived with other people?” He sounded surprised — for the first time, she sensed genuine interest from him.

“Yes. But they’re not good people. Most of them. That’s why I had to run.” She shifted, unnerved by her own words.

“You should have stayed there.” A sadness crept into his voice, the light in his eyes fading.

“No. I couldn’t stay. You have no idea how it was —“ she realised what she was saying.

He scoffed softly.

“I didn’t mean— ” She resumed eating the bland mixture, lost in thought. “What’s it like out there ?”

The question hung for a moment. His eyes darkened still, and it took him a while to speak. “It’s not what you’d imagine. I don’t know what they told you in your community, but whatever you think the world looks like now… it’s worse.”

After that, Alek left again, not saying another word. His footsteps faded outside, swallowed by the thick air.

#

It was quiet. The oppressive silence pressed against her chest, and she found herself listening to the faintest sounds.

Sometimes, the drip of water echoed down the stone corridors. Its steady rhythm was almost comforting, but she couldn’t stand the idleness any longer. Her legs ached as she forced herself up. She moved towards the table where Alek had left his maps, a hand brushing the cool stone wall to steady herself. They were a mess of lines and notes hastily scribbled on worn paper. She spread them out, trying to understand it all under dim amber light.

It took a lot of work to follow the routes he had marked. The paths seemed disjointed, tunnels left unexplored. Parts of the facility were drawn on separate sheets. Something felt off. There was a pattern she couldn’t quite grasp — a reason behind the apparent chaos. Is he avoiding areas on purpose?

A low creak made her jump.

Victoria’s eyes darted towards the door. At first, she thought it was just her imagination. Then, she heard it again — a faint scraping noise. It wasn’t Alek. It couldn’t be.

She glanced at the stolen knife lying on the table, the only thing she had to defend herself. Her fingers tightened around the small blade. She strained to hear, holding her breath.

The sound stopped. As the silence grew thicker, she let out a shaky exhale and momentarily released the tension.

Then, from somewhere deep in the dark, she heard it — a whisper.

It was barely audible, a breath carried on the wind. But it was there. Clear enough to send a shiver crawling up her spine.

She backed away from the door, uncertain what lurked in the shadows. But for the first time, she wished Alek would return.

Victoria shivered; the whisper still lingered at the edges of her mind. The air had grown colder, a biting chill, and she retreated behind the bed.

Then, she saw it.

A thin wisp of fog curled at the edge of the doorway, almost imperceptible. It snaked into the room, creeping along the stone floor. It felt ominous, moving with an unsettling grace. She backed up, her body pressed against the wall — nowhere to go. The fog thickened, spilling into the room in long tendrils. It was probing, feeling its way inside.

The door burst open.

Alek stumbled in, his face pale. His breath was hard, clothes soaked with dark stains — tainted blood. His eyes were wide with terror — but something else was there, too — a flicker of triumph.

“Alek?” Her voice cracked.

He didn’t answer at first. He slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against it like he was holding something back. His body was trembling, and his breath fogged the cold air. Victoria’s gaze dropped to his hands — slick with something thick and dark.

“What happened?” she asked, though her stomach twisted, dreading the answer.

Alek pushed away from the door and wiped his brow. “It’s a good thing you’re up.”

“What?” Her mind raced, confusion sinking in.

“I found it,” Alek said, his eyes gleamed with a manic intensity. “I found the way out.”

Victoria took a step towards him, her gaze locked on his stained clothes.

“But it’s… it’s not what you think.” He swallowed hard and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’ll have to go through a place I’ve been avoiding.”

Her blood ran cold as the fog continued to creep towards them; the weight of his words sank in. The truth she had denied slowly unravelled in her mind — they weren’t just escaping the tunnels; they were heading straight into a nightmare.

***