On her day off, Claire savored the morning tranquility, seated at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee in hand. The early sun cast a soft, golden glow throughout the kitchen, while the aroma of fresh coffee blended with the scent of toast to create a warm ambiance. Absentmindedly leafing through a magazine, her mind wandered to the previous week's events. The recent attack on Jean loomed in her thoughts, prompting her to check her phone for any new information. To occupy her time, she had organized her modest apartment. The space was a reflection of Claire's varied interests, with walls decorated with framed prints of beloved art pieces and shelves brimming with books on art history and philosophy. A cozy, worn armchair by the window provided a sanctuary for peaceful reflection.
After tidying the living room, she had moved to the kitchen, deciding to bake some cookies. Baking had always been a therapeutic activity for her, a way to momentarily escape from her worries. She hummed softly to herself as she mixed the ingredients, the familiar motions bringing a sense of calm. The smell of vanilla and chocolate filled the air, and she couldn't help but smile at the simple pleasure of creating something with her hands. While the cookies were in the oven, she had turned on the television to catch up on the morning news. The familiar sounds of the news anchor's voice filled the room as she poured herself another cup of coffee. She had just settled back at the kitchen table with her coffee and a plate of freshly baked cookies when her phone rang. It was Sasha. "I still can't believe what happened to Jean," Claire said, her voice wavering slightly as she spoke to Sasha on the phone. "Have you heard anything more from the hospital?"
"No, nothing yet," Sasha replied, his tone equally anxious. "I'm planning to visit him later today, though. Maybe they'll have some news then." As Claire listened, her attention was suddenly drawn to the news anchor's urgent tone on the television. She turned the volume up, her heart pounding as she caught the headline. "Sasha, turn on the news," she interrupted, her voice urgent. "They're saying there's a riot in London. People are being attacked and bitten." Claire quickly reached for the remote, increasing the volume. The news anchor's voice filled the room, each word dripping with tension.
The news anchor, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a grave expression, looked directly into the camera. "Ladies and gentlemen, reports show that over 50 people are now in hospital, and the police are trying to fend off the rioters. Several people have reported being bitten..." His voice trailed off as new information came in through his earpiece. "Sasha, did you hear that?" Claire's voice was a mix of disbelief and fear. "I did," Sasha responded, his voice grim. "This is insane. What's going on?" Before Claire could respond, the anchor interrupted the report. "Sorry, Tom, I have to cut you off there. We're receiving breaking news of another riot happening in Tokyo, Japan. Reports have just come in that over 120 people have been taken into hospitals with bite wounds and infections."
The broadcast cut to a female anchor in a busy newsroom, urgency etched on her face. "Thank you, Mark. The situation in Tokyo is deteriorating quickly. People are sprinting through the streets, some nursing injuries while others exhibit a disturbing, seemingly mindless aggression. Hospitals are inundated, and officials are battling to control the mayhem." Claire's eyes grew wide as she absorbed the scenes on the screen. The turmoil was tangible, the images like those from a bad dream. "It's spreading," Claire murmured, her apprehension growing. "It's not confined to London and Tokyo."
As the broadcast progressed, updates began pouring in from abroad. The anchor struggled to keep pace with the rapid influx of information. "Reports of similar violence have emerged from the United States, with New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago experiencing outbreaks. Hospitals are inundated with individuals suffering from bite wounds and severe infections." The footage revealed New York City in turmoil, with terrified citizens sprinting down streets. Law enforcement officers were hard-pressed to manage the aggressive crowds, while emergency medical technicians feverishly attended to the wounded. A bloodied man, addressing the camera with desperate eyes, exclaimed, "People are biting each other! It's as if they've lost their minds. We need assistance!" Claire felt a surge of adrenaline as the screen flickered with scenes of distress and disorder from around the globe. "Sasha, it's happening everywhere."
"Germany is currently experiencing violent incidents in Berlin and Munich. The authorities are finding it difficult to maintain order as the number of infected individuals increases." In Berlin, a woman with a bandaged arm tearfully shared her ordeal. "I was simply walking home when suddenly, a group of people assaulted me. They were biting and scratching like wild animals. It was the most terrifying moment of my life." The broadcast then returned to the main anchor, whose expression became increasingly somber with each report. "In Russia, the news is dominated by riots in Moscow and Saint Petersburg. The streets are engulfed in confusion and fear, with the magnitude of the turmoil escalating each hour." Footage from Moscow displayed chaotic scenes, with law enforcement struggling to contain the masses of agitated individuals. A weary-looking Russian official made a statement to the country. "We are confronted with a crisis like no other. I implore everyone to remain indoors and steer clear of anyone exhibiting violent behavior."
"Australia is reporting comparable situations in Sydney and Melbourne, with hospitals on high alert managing a surge of patients," the anchor reported, his voice tense. Suddenly, the broadcast connection to Australia was lost. "My apologies, ladies and gentlemen, we appear to have lost the connection to Australia. The president has closed our borders, and now, violent incidents are emerging in the southern regions of France. The government advises everyone to stay indoors and avoid leaving their homes."
Before Claire could process this, gunfire was suddenly heard from the street below. The sound was so startling that Claire dropped her coffee cup, the hot liquid spilling across the table. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. She quickly ran out to her balcony. Below, she saw a police officer being swarmed by a crowd of people who clawed at him as if they were wild animals. The officer struggled to fend them off, his baton swinging wildly, but the sheer number of attackers overwhelmed him. They pulled him to the ground, their hands and teeth tearing at his uniform. The officer's screams of pain echoed through the street, mingling with the frenzied growls of the attackers. Blood splattered across the pavement, and Claire had to look away when she saw the crimson stains spreading. "Oh my God!" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper as panic gripped her. In a frightened state, she shut all the doors and windows, her hands trembling. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to lock the windows, her breathing heavy and erratic. She accidentally dropped her phone on the floor in her haste. "Claire...are...you..." she heard Sasha's voice scream through the phone.
In a panic, Claire picked up the phone. "Sasha, are you there! Sasha...Sasha!" But there was no answer. Her heart raced as she heard more cries from the street below. The sound of glass shattering from downstairs made her jump, and she let out a sob. Claire ran to her window and peered out cautiously. "Please, please, somebody help me," she heard another woman's voice outside, filled with desperation. Claire's eyes darted towards the source of the voice. She saw a young woman, her clothes torn and bloodstained, stumbling through the street. Her face was pale with terror as she looked around frantically for help. "Please, somebody help me!" the woman screamed again, her voice breaking. She tried to run, but her movements were sluggish, as if she were exhausted or injured.
Claire watched in horror as a group of frenzied individuals spotted the woman and charged towards her. The woman's screams intensified as they reached her, pulling her to the ground. Claire could see the woman's desperate struggle, her hands clawing at the pavement as she tried to escape. The attackers showed no mercy, their hands and teeth tearing into her with a primal ferocity. The woman's screams soon followed, cutting through the air like a knife. Claire's hands shook uncontrollably as she clutched the phone, her mind racing with fear and helplessness. The sounds of violence and chaos outside grew louder, and Claire's tears fell freely as she realized the enormity of the crisis unfolding around her.
Claire steadied her breathing, trying to calm the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and tears streamed down her face. She let out a scream when there was a sudden knock at the door. "Who's that?" she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. In a frightened moment, Claire grabbed a chef knife from the kitchen counter, holding it tightly in her hand. "It's me, Claire, Sasha!" came the urgent voice from the other side of the door. Claire rushed over and opened the door, her eyes widening in shock as she saw Sasha standing there, covered in blood. His clothes were torn and bloodstained, and his face was pale and drawn, a mix of exhaustion and fear etched into his features. "My God, Sasha, what happened? They didn't bite you, did they?" Claire asked, her voice filled with concern as she looked him over for any signs of injury.
"No, they tried to, but one did grab me," Sasha replied, his voice shaky. "She was covered in blood; her entire mouth was stained in blood. It was your neighbor Julia who attacked me. It looked like her, but she was like a wild animal." Claire's mind raced as she processed Sasha's words. Julia had always been a kind and quiet neighbor. To imagine her as a bloodthirsty attacker was almost impossible. Claire felt a deep sense of dread settle in her stomach. "I don't care about her, we need to get you to a doctor!" she panicked, her voice rising in urgency. "I'm fine..." Sasha began, but Claire cut him off. "It doesn't matter, the news is saying they're infected with something," Claire insisted, her hands trembling as she tried to steady herself. "We can't take any chances."
Sasha nodded reluctantly, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of worry. His hands shook slightly, and Claire could see the strain in his expression. "Alright, let's go. But we need to be careful. The streets are dangerous." Just as Claire was grabbing her coat, she heard Sasha coughing and stumbling forward. "My God, Sasha, we need to get you to a doctor..." she said, her voice filled with panic. But Sasha could barely move before suddenly collapsing to the floor. He started to vomit blood, and Claire quickly distanced herself from him, her heart racing with fear.
Sasha's body began to violently shake on the floor, his fits and screams of pain echoing through the apartment. His eyes rolled back into his head, and his limbs thrashed uncontrollably. Claire watched in horror, tears streaming down her face as she witnessed his agony. She felt utterly helpless, unable to do anything but watch as her friend suffered. Suddenly, Sasha went still and lifeless, an eerie quiet settling over the room. Claire's breath caught in her throat, and she hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. She rushed back and grabbed her phone, her hands trembling as she tried to call for an ambulance. "Please, please, somebody help us," she whispered, her voice breaking. She dialed the emergency number, her fingers shaking so badly she could barely press the buttons. The phone rang, and Claire's heart pounded in her chest as she waited for someone to answer.
"Emergency services, how can I help you?" came the calm voice on the other end. "Please, you have to send an ambulance! My friend, he's... he's collapsed, and he's vomiting blood!" Claire's voice was frantic, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Ma'am, I need you to stay calm. Can you give me your location?" the operator asked, her tone steady and reassuring. Claire quickly rattled off her address, her eyes never leaving Sasha's still form on the floor. "Please hurry, I don't know what's happening to him!"
"We're dispatching an ambulance to your location. Stay on the line with me, ma'am," the operator instructed. Claire nodded, even though the operator couldn't see her. She clutched the phone tightly, her knuckles white with tension. Suddenly, she heard movement and saw Sasha standing upright. "Sasha?" she called out, her voice filled with a mix of hope and fear. Sasha turned and charged at her, his eyes wild and filled with a terrifying rage. His mouth was open, revealing bloodstained teeth, and his movements were erratic and violent. He screamed and tried to bite her, his hands clawing at her with a primal ferocity. Claire was tackled to the ground, her heart pounding in her chest. She struggled to fend him off, her mind racing with fear and disbelief. Sasha's strength was overwhelming, and Claire could feel his hot breath on her face as he snapped his jaws at her. His eyes, once filled with warmth and kindness, were now empty and crazed. Claire's mind raced as she tried to comprehend what was happening. This wasn't the Sasha she knew; this was something else entirely.
With the chef knife still in her hand, Claire fought desperately to keep Sasha at bay. She managed to get her arm between them, using the knife to push him back. Sasha's grip on her was strong, but she managed to avoid his grasp. Claire's heart raced as she realized she had no choice but to defend herself. Summoning all her strength, Claire thrust the knife forward, aiming for Sasha's head. The blade sank into his skull with a sickening crunch, and Sasha's body went rigid. He let out a guttural scream, his eyes rolling back as he convulsed. Claire pushed him off her, her hands shaking as she watched him collapse to the floor. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by Claire's ragged breathing. She stared at Sasha's lifeless body, her mind struggling to process the horror of what had just happened. Tears streamed down her face as she realized she had been forced to kill her friend to save herself.
Claire's body shook with sobs as she tried to come to terms with the reality of the situation. She had never imagined she would be in a position where she had to take a life, let alone the life of someone she cared about. The weight of that realization was almost too much to bear. As she sat on the floor, her mind replayed the events of the past few minutes in a relentless loop. Sasha's transformation from a friend to a violent attacker had been swift and terrifying. Claire couldn't shake the image of his bloodstained teeth and crazed eyes from her mind. She reached for her phone, her hands still trembling. The operator's voice was faint in her ear, asking if she was still there. "Yes, I'm here," Claire whispered, her voice barely audible. "He's... he's gone. I had to... I had to stop him."
"Ma'am, stay where you are. Help is on the way," the operator reassured her. Claire nodded, even though she knew the operator couldn't see her. She felt a deep sense of isolation, as if she were the only person left in the world. The sounds of chaos outside continued to grow louder, a constant reminder of the crisis unfolding around her. As she waited for the ambulance to arrive, Claire's thoughts turned to Jean. She wondered if he was experiencing the same horrors in the hospital. The thought of losing another friend was almost too much to bear. She knew she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for the people she cared about. The minutes felt like hours as Claire sat on the floor, her eyes never leaving Sasha's lifeless body. She couldn't bring herself to move, her mind and body paralyzed by the trauma of what had just occurred. The weight of the knife in her hand was a constant reminder of the violence she had been forced to commit. Finally, the sound of sirens pierced the air, and Claire felt a glimmer of hope. Help was on the way, and maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to survive this nightmare. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she prepared to face whatever came next.