Chapter 17: The City of the Lost
The fire still burned behind them, casting twisted shadows along the tunnel walls. The air was thick with the stench of charred flesh and something else—something wrong.
Sam wiped the sweat from his forehead, his heart still hammering in his chest. The Collector was dead, its grotesque, fused bodies bckened and still, but the knowledge did little to ease his nerves.
Because Lena was right.
This wasn’t the end.
It was only the beginning.
A City in Ruin
Lena led them through the tunnels, their footsteps echoing in the tight, damp space. The path sloped upward, and soon, they reached a rusted dder leading to a sewer grate above.
Carter peered up. “Where the hell are we now?”
Lena climbed first, pressing her shoulder against the grate. With a grunt, she shoved it open.
The world above was silent.
Too silent.
One by one, they climbed up, stepping onto cracked pavement. The buildings around them were hollowed-out husks, their windows shattered, their walls bckened by old fires.
The city was dead.
Or at least, it should have been.
Sam’s breath fogged in the cold air as he turned in a slow circle. They were standing in what used to be a downtown district, the remnants of civilization scattered around them. Cars sat abandoned, their doors hanging open. Bloodstains marked the cracked roads, long dried and faded.
But there were no bodies.
That was what bothered him the most.
Grace pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders. “Where is everyone?”
Lena’s jaw tightened. “Gone.”
Carter scoffed. “No shit. But where?”
Lena shook her head. “You don’t get it. The people here… they didn’t just die. They were taken.”
Sam’s stomach twisted. “Taken by what?”
Lena exhaled. Then she pointed toward the skyline.
At first, Sam didn’t understand. Then he saw it.
A massive, gnarled structure loomed in the distance, twisting into the sky like something alive.
It wasn’t a building. It was organic, a writhing mass of flesh, bone, and something darker, stretching high above the ruins.
Sam’s throat went dry. “What… the hell is that?”
Lena’s voice was grim. “The Nest.”
The Heart of the Infection
A strong gust of wind swept through the empty streets, carrying the scent of rot and decay. The closer Sam looked, the worse it got.
The streets weren’t just abandoned—they were transformed.
Vines of bck, pulsing flesh snaked through the cracks in the pavement, crawling up buildings, wrapping around old streetlights. The city itself was becoming something else.
Something alive.
Sam swallowed hard. “And you’re telling me… people were taken there?”
Lena nodded. “That’s where the Whispered go. That’s where they’re made.”
Carter shook his head. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re saying that thing is… what? A factory? A breeding ground?”
Lena turned to face them, her expression unreadable. “It’s more than that.” She hesitated.
“It’s where they listen.”
A cold chill ran down Sam’s spine. “Listen to what?”
Lena’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I don’t know.”
But the way she said it told him she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
The Signs of Something Worse
They moved cautiously through the city, weaving through abandoned cars and silent alleyways. Sam kept his bat tight in his grip, his eyes scanning every shadow, every open doorway.
The silence was worse than the noise.
Because it meant something was waiting.
They reached an old pharmacy, its windows smashed in, the shelves half-looted.
“We should check for supplies,” Grace muttered, stepping inside.
Sam followed, his fshlight sweeping over scattered pill bottles and empty first-aid kits. Most of it had been taken long ago.
Carter moved toward the counter, rummaging through drawers. “What do you think the Nest is actually doing? I mean, besides making nightmare monsters?”
Lena picked up a discarded gas mask, running a finger over the faded logo on the side. “I think… it’s changing things.”
Sam frowned. “What do you mean?”
Lena hesitated. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, “I think it’s evolving them.”
A heavy silence followed.
Then—
A scraping noise outside.
Everyone froze.
Sam’s pulse spiked as he turned toward the broken windows.
A figure stood in the street.
At first, it looked like a normal infected—its body thin, its clothes tattered. But something was off.
It wasn’t moving right.
It twitched, its head jerking at unnatural angles, its arms hanging too loosely at its sides.
Then, slowly—its head turned toward them.
And it whispered.
Sam’s vision blurred for half a second, his thoughts turning foggy.
Then Lena grabbed his arm. “Don’t listen.”
He snapped back to reality.
Carter raised his shotgun. “Screw this.”
He fired—direct hit. The infected’s head snapped back, blood spraying the pavement.
But it didn’t fall.
Instead—it smiled.
Then, with a horrific, unnatural speed, it rushed them.
Run or Burn
Grace didn’t hesitate—she grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol from a nearby shelf, yanked out the cloth from her jacket pocket, and shoved it inside.
Lena tossed her a lighter.
Grace lit the Molotov and hurled it.
WHOOSH!
The creature erupted into fmes, its whispers turning into screams.
Sam watched in horror as it cwed at its burning flesh, its skin melting, its body twisting in agony—
And then, something crawled out of it.
A bck mass of tendrils, writhing, pulsing, growing.
It wasn’t just fire that burned.
The thing was transforming.
Lena’s face paled. “We need to go. Now.”
They bolted.
Out of the pharmacy. Into the street. Away from the burning, shifting thing that had once been a person.
Sam’s lungs burned as they ran, his legs aching. The Nest loomed ahead, towering over the ruins of the city.
And for the first time, Sam realized something.
They weren’t just fighting mons
ters anymore.
They were at war with something bigger.
Something that saw them.
Something that was waiting.
And no matter where they ran—
The whispers would always follow.
