We stood before the imposing steel door, a sentinel guarding the mysteries within. The building loomed large, its glass façade reflecting the damages and chaos that shrouded the city.
"My dad used to work here before retiring," Nixie reminisced, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia."I've been here a few times," she added, her voice tinged with a mix of emotions.
In that moment, a surge of anxiety washed over me, and I felt the familiar clamminess in my palms. The memories of loss and tragedy that this place held were unbearable. The haunting echoes of lives forever changed by the tragedy that unfolded here lingered in my mind.
As we cautiously entered, the screech of the steel door grated against the eerie silence, sending shivers down my spine. The scene that greeted us was nothing short of apocalyptic—a battleground of chaos and destruction.
Charred vehicles, once a mode of transportation, now stood engulfed in flames, spewing smoke into the air. Vans lay wrecked, their surfaces smeared with ominous bloodstains, testimony to the horrors this place had witnessed.
Ahead loomed a glass door, an ominous marker of what lay beyond. A bloodstained handprint on its surface served as a haunting reminder of the terror this place had endured. Each detail screamed of the nightmares this ground had been forced to bear.
In the bright sunlight, the enormous building bore the name "Sechenov," each letter illuminated, seemingly glowing against the structure. A vulture perched atop the sign, an eerie addition to the already unsettling sight. The sunlight reflecting off the white letters made it challenging to gaze at them directly, piercing my eyes with its intensity.
As everyone else had already ventured inside, I found myself alone for a brief moment. Running a few steps to catch up, Gabriel reached out and gently took my hand. His comforting presence was enough to bring a smile to my face before we stepped inside the foreboding building together.
Upon entering, a scene of absolute destruction assailed our senses. A once pristine counter stood solemnly in the corner, now drenched in red and muddied, its waiting sofa no longer the epitome of comfort but a gruesome canvas of despair. The glass door at the center, behind which the lift stood, flickered with a dim, foreboding light. On the right, a stairway loomed, its ascent shrouded in uncertainty.
A decaying body lay nearby, a sight that sent a collective gasp through our group. "This is just a nightmare," my dad murmured as we instinctively scattered, each taking in the ghastly surroundings from different angles.
Athena ventured behind the counter, navigating through the chaos of scattered papers, some singed at the edges or smudged with bloodstains. With every step, her heart pounded louder, the eerie silence contrasting the remnants of chaos surrounding her. The air felt thick with the remnants of a tragedy, a place suspended in time from when the disaster struck.
She picked up a paper, its content entirely in Russian except for the English heading. Before she could grasp the meaning, the paper slipped from her hand, fluttering under the counter. Her determination fueled her movement as she crouched to investigate, discovering another bundle of papers scattered beneath. Each page she turned revealed more about the facility’s past, its experiments, and its inhabitants, now long gone.
Amidst this haunting scene, one particular sheet stood out. There, in Cyrillic characters, was a room number etched atop the paper and something written in Russian. It hinted at something crucial, something of potential importance.
Her pulse quickened as she contemplated the significance of this discovery, a room designated for emergencies, a haven in the heart of this once-thriving institution.
Athena glanced back, motioning to Nixie, who was meticulously searching near the cabins. Swift to catch Athena's gesture, Nixie quickly approached her, ready to assist.
"What happened?" Nixie inquired, noticing Athena's focused expression.
Athena handed her the paper, her voice tinged with urgency, "Look, I found this. There's a room number written on it, but there's something peculiar... above it."
Nixie studied the paper, her gaze darting over the foreign script. She paused, her eyes scanning the text thoughtfully before speaking, "It reads 'safety room for emergencies.'"
The revelation drew the attention of the others nearby, their curiosity piqued by the newfound information.
"Did you say 'safety room for emergencies'?" Gabriel's voice rang out, a mix of concern and resolve. "We have to get there."
Veronica, her tone laced with hope amid the desolation, affirmed, "There might be someone there, someone who found shelter in the chaos." Her words carried a thread of optimism, hinting at the possibility of finding survivors amidst the haunting ruins.
In the eerie silence of the room, Nixie's voice resonated, breaking the hushed atmosphere. We stood in a circle, a unified front in this desolate space.
"I heard from my dad once," Nixie began, her voice a whisper that filled the emptiness, "that laboratories like this usually have a designated safety room for emergencies." Her words trailed off, a hint of uncertainty echoing in the air.
In the eerie silence of the room, Nixie's voice resonated, breaking the hushed atmosphere. We stood in a circle, a unified front in this desolate space.
"I heard from my dad once," Nixie began, her voice a whisper that filled the emptiness, "that laboratories like this usually have a designated safety room for emergencies. They might hide experiments or... something else." Her words trailed off, a hint of uncertainty echoing in the air.
I glanced down at the paper in my hand, the numbers "122" etched onto it, indicating the room number.
"We're currently on the ground floor, and 122 means it must be on the second floor somewhere," Gabriel reasoned, his tone thoughtful as he assessed the building's layout.
"You might be right, Gabriel," my dad's voice interjected, bringing another perspective into the discussion.
"So, that means we need to get there. But what if that door is locked? I mean, some kind of passcode or something," Veronica voiced her concern, highlighting a potential obstacle.
"Similar to how schools have a mic in the principal's room to announce messages to the classrooms, there must be something here too, right?" Jack interjected, offering a potential solution.
As we scoured the area for any sign of the communication device, I extended my hand over the counter. There, my fingers brushed against something, and a faint noise reverberated from the speaker mounted on the wall. I hastily retrieved the object—a small mic-like device.
"Athena, nice find," James complimented with a smile, acknowledging my discovery.
Gathered in a tight cluster, anticipation built among us. Veronica proposed, "If someone is hiding in that room, they'll hear us." Taking the mic, I passed it to my dad.
He stood tall, exuding a calm and commanding presence. Taking a deep breath, he began, "We are survivors seeking a solution to this nightmare. We're heading towards the safety room—"
However, just as he started speaking, the mic abruptly ceased to function. An air of disappointment settled among us as our hopeful smiles faded away. "Damn it," Gabriel said, voicing our collective frustration.
YOU ARE READING
New Year Virus
HorrorA joyous New Year's celebration were shattered when an unprecedented and terrifying event unfolded. Instead of fireworks and festivities, the world was thrown into chaos as a mysterious and deadly virus swept across the globe again,transforming peop...
