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Chapter 15 The thing that shouldn’t Exist

  Chapter 15: The Thing That Shouldn’t Exist

  The whispering infected stood motionless for a moment, its milky-white eyes fixed on Sam. The bck tendrils in its mouth writhed like worms, curling and uncurling as if they had a mind of their own.

  Then it moved.

  Fast.

  Sam barely had time to react before it lunged.

  He swung his bat, but the creature ducked with inhuman speed, its body twisting in ways that shouldn't have been possible.

  Carter fired point-bnk. The shotgun bst ripped through the thing’s chest, spttering bckened blood across the basement floor.

  For a second, it staggered.

  Then—it kept coming.

  Sam’s stomach dropped.

  “It’s not dying!” Grace shouted, firing again. The bullets tore into its flesh, but the wounds closed almost instantly.

  Lena cursed under her breath. “You can’t kill it like that!”

  Sam barely had time to think. “Then how do we kill it?”

  Lena didn’t answer. She was already moving—yanking open a rusted metal hatch at the back of the basement.

  “This way!” she yelled.

  Carter fired one more shot before turning and bolting after her.

  The creature let out another horrible, rasping whisper, then charged again.

  Sam dove for the hatch, feeling the air whoosh past his neck as the creature swiped at him. He hit the damp metal dder and scrambled down, heart hammering in his chest.

  Above, Grace tossed a fsh grenade before dropping in behind him.

  BOOM!

  The basement was flooded with blinding light, followed by an eerie, screeching hiss from the infected.

  Then Grace smmed the hatch shut.

  For a second, there was only silence.

  Then—THUD.

  The creature smmed against the metal from above, rattling the dder beneath them.

  Sam didn’t wait.

  He turned and followed the others into the darkness below.

  Into the Underworld

  The tunnel beneath the basement was cold and damp, the air thick with the stench of rot and stagnant water. It wasn’t just a storage celr—it was part of the old sewer system, long abandoned.

  Their boots spshed through ankle-deep water as they moved.

  Carter exhaled sharply. “The hell was that thing?”

  Lena didn’t answer immediately. When she did, her voice was tight. “We called them Whispers.”

  Sam frowned. “Called them?”

  Lena’s grip tightened on her knife. “Because my group is dead, remember?”

  Grace gave her a sharp look. “You knew that was down here, and you didn’t say anything?”

  Lena turned, eyes fshing. “I didn’t know it was still alive.”

  Carter scoffed. “Oh yeah? And how do you know so much about them?”

  Lena hesitated. Then:

  “My group was hunting them.”

  A heavy silence followed.

  Sam felt a chill crawl up his spine. “You mean… there’s more?”

  Lena didn’t answer.

  That was enough of an answer.

  A Dark History

  They moved deeper into the tunnels, their fshlights flickering against the damp stone walls.

  “What are they?” Sam asked quietly.

  Lena exhaled. “They’re not like normal infected. They don’t spread the virus the same way.”

  Carter frowned. “Then how do they spread it?”

  Lena hesitated again. Then she motioned for them to stop.

  They were standing in front of a rge, rusted metal door, its surface covered in scratched symbols. Strange, almost tribal-looking markings had been carved into the metal.

  Sam felt a knot tighten in his gut. “What is this pce?”

  Lena ran her fingers over the marks. “An old quarantine chamber. My group used it as a safehouse… before we knew what we were dealing with.”

  Grace’s jaw tightened. “And?”

  Lena took a slow breath. “We found one of them in here.”

  A long pause.

  Then she turned and met Sam’s gaze.

  “They don’t turn people with bites. They don’t spread the infection like normal.” She swallowed hard.

  “They infect minds.”

  Sam felt his stomach drop. “What?”

  Lena nodded grimly. “The whispers… they get inside your head. They don’t need to bite you. They just have to be near you long enough.”

  Carter cursed. “Are you telling me that thing up there could be messing with our heads right now?”

  Lena shook her head. “Not that fast. It takes days. But if you hear them long enough—if you listen to the whispers—you start to lose yourself.”

  Sam felt a cold sweat break out on his back.

  Then he remembered something.

  The way the thing had looked at him before lunging.

  Like it was recognizing him.

  Like it was trying to talk.

  A chill ran down his spine. “How do we stop them?”

  Lena’s expression darkened.

  “You burn them.”

  Sam’s gut twisted. That thing had healed its wounds instantly—but if fire was the only way to kill it…

  Then they were in trouble.

  Carter let out a harsh breath. “Great. And let me guess—we don’t have a damn fmethrower lying around?”

  Lena shook her head. “No. But we might have something else.”

  She turned toward the door and pced her palm against it.

  “Help me open this.”

  The Forgotten Safehouse

  It took all four of them to shove the heavy door open. The metal groaned in protest, rust fking from the hinges.

  Inside, the room was small and cramped, filled with old weapons, medical supplies, and makeshift cots.

  It smelled like ash and chemicals.

  Lena hurried inside, rummaging through an old crate. “We stored some supplies here in case we ever needed to come back.”

  Sam gnced around, eyes scanning the room. Something felt off.

  Then—his fshlight nded on the far wall.

  His breath caught.

  Scratched into the stone, in long, jagged letters, were three words:

  IT SEES YOU.

  A shiver ran down his spine. “Guys?”

  Grace followed his gaze—and froze.

  Carter swore under his breath. “Well, that’s not creepy at all.”

  Lena didn’t look up. “I told you,” she muttered, pulling something from the crate. “They get inside your head.”

  She turned and tossed Sam a bottle.

  He caught it—and frowned. Lighter fluid.

  Carter’s eyes widened. “You think we can torch it?”

  Lena nodded. “It’s the only way.”

  Sam tightened his grip on the bottle. Fire.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better t

  han nothing.

  Then—

  A sudden thud from above.

  The whispering began again.

  Soft. Muted.

  But definitely closer.

  Sam’s blood ran cold.

  It had followed them.

  And now?

  They were trapped.

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