Run, Luna!

"Sound attracts them," Arjun hissed, appearing at the doorway, his eyes wide. "They’re reacting to the noise! Get to the bus, now!"

You grabbed one last bag of supplies, your heart hammering against your ribs. You turned to head for the exit, but as you neared the threshold, a hand—cold, clammy, and unnervingly strong—gripped your wrist.

You stumbled back, gasping. It was a staff member, still wearing a faded blue vest, but his face was a ruin of gray flesh and exposed bone.

His jaw hung slack, and he was pulling you toward him, his movements stiff but agonizingly persistent. Behind him, the glass door framed a growing sea of dark, stumbling shapes, their hands reaching out, blocking your path to the bus.

"Luna!" Riya screamed from the bus steps, her hand outstretched.

The world seems to tilt on its axis. For one agonizing, suspended minute, your mind goes completely blank. The hum of the fluorescent lights fades into a dull roar in your ears, and the reality of the situation—the rotting face inches from yours, the smell of copper and decay, the tightening pressure on your wrist—dissolves into a static white noise.

You are a statue, trapped in the crushing weight of disbelief, while the creature’s dead eyes stare into your soul, its fingers digging into your skin with the relentless strength of the undead.

Outside, the moan of the approaching horde grows louder, a symphony of dragging feet and dry, rasping breaths.

Suddenly, a sharp thwack rings out.

Min-ho lunges past your peripheral vision, swinging the heavy wrench with a calculated, brutal force. It connects with the side of the staff member’s head, sending the creature stumbling back, its grip on your arm finally breaking.

"Luna! Move!" Min-ho barks, his voice jarring you back to reality.

The shock breaks. The adrenaline floods your system like ice water, hot and sharp. You see Arjun at the doorway, firing an improvised flare gun he’d scavenged, the bright red light momentarily blinding the front line of the horde and forcing them to recoil, confused by the sudden brilliance.

Riya is frantic, leaning out of the bus door, her hands waving. "Luna, run! We're leaving!"

You stumble forward, your heart hammering against your ribs, the bag of supplies heavy in your hand. You feel the cold air behind you as the staff member recovers, its head lolling as it starts to pivot, its dead gaze tracking your movement.

You sprint toward the open bus doors, your boots skidding on the pavement. You reach the bottom step, Arjun grabbing your jacket and hauling you upward with a strength that nearly lifts you off your feet.

"Close it! Close the door!" Arjun yells to the driver.

The bus doors hiss shut just as a pale, blood-stained hand slams against the glass. The bus lurches, the driver floor-boarding the gas pedal.

The tires spin, smoking against the concrete before catching, and the vehicle peels away from the station, leaving the mass of slow, grasping shadows behind in the fading glow of the station lights.

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