Tabitha climbed the stone steps that seemed to have no end. Her fingers traced along the damp, rough walls. She didn't know why, but her instincts screamed that she needed to reach the top.
Along the steps, illuminated by a pale, unreal light, toys began to appear. A red building block. A chipped wooden toy car.
She picked them up with trembling hands, clutching them against her chest, imagining they belonged to Ethan.
Suddenly, the stone beneath her feet dissolved. The muffled echo of her footsteps was replaced by the brittle crunch of dirt and dry leaves.
She was in the forest.
The air grew heavy, smelling of pine and something rotten.
Something began to chase her.
She ran, pushing her legs to their limit, but she was too slow. The presence behind her kept getting closer. And then, the voices came.
"Anghkooey..."
Children's voices whispered, echoing through the trees like a scratched record. Tabitha didn't dare look back.
Her lungs burned when she finally caught sight of the imposing structure of Colony House.
"Julie?" she called out as she pushed through the front door.
She moved through the main hall, the kitchen, the second-floor corridors. Familiar faces passed by her like blurred figures.
Tabitha grabbed one resident's shoulder, then another. "Where is my daughter? Where is Julie?" No one answered.
It was as if she were a ghost wandering among the living—or worse, as if Julie had been erased from existence.
Panic reached its peak, a freezing wave that stole the air from her lungs.
"Tabitha! Tabitha, wake up!"
She jolted awake, her chest rising and falling in spasms. Jim's face was inches from hers, his hands gripping her shoulders with steady reassurance.
"It's okay now," he whispered, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
"It was just a nightmare."
Tabitha sat up in bed, a cold knot forming in her stomach. The emptiness of not finding Julie in the dream terrified her.
"Jim... I feel like something's wrong. A bad feeling. About Julie."
Jim sighed, forcing a comforting expression. "She's at the party, Tabitha. With Donna. With Daniel. She's safe."
Tabitha didn't respond. She simply stared at the sealed window in silence.
---
As they entered through the window Jasmine had opened, the creatures moved with a disturbing synchronicity; they walked to the corners of the room and stood still, waiting as their companions climbed in one by one.
When the room was full, Smiley, at the front of the group, gently turned the doorknob and opened the door to the hallway.
"About time..." the middle-aged resident leaning against the wall outside muttered impatiently. He didn't get to finish his sentence.
Smiley lunged at his neck with the precision of a predator. Elongated teeth tore through skin, trachea, and jugular in a single fluid motion, ripping the man apart before he could let out a single scream.
The body dropped onto the carpet with a dull thud. Smiley chewed the piece of flesh, swallowed, and, almost politely, wiped his blood-stained lips on the victim's flannel shirt.
The other creatures stepped out of the bathroom without the macabre smiles on their faces. Their expressions were now neutral, focused. They began to spread across the second floor in silence, testing doorknobs, trying to open bedroom doors.
Jasmine found one slightly ajar and stepped inside, followed closely by a creature dressed like a librarian. The room was immersed in shadows, lit only by a small lamp in the corner.
On the bed, a couple were having sex clumsily under the effects of alcohol.
The woman stopped and gasped, startled by the sudden intrusion. The shock lasted only a second before the alcohol turned confusion into irritation.
"Hey!" she snapped, her voice slurred and drunk. "Can't you see we're busy here? Where are your manners?"
Neither of them responded. Jasmine turned slowly and, with a soft click, closed the bedroom door.
The man, equally lost in his drunken haze, glanced over his partner's shoulder. A crooked, suggestive smile spread across his face.
"Relax, babe. Looks like they want to join in."
The woman scoffed, letting out a sigh of pure impatience.
"I was almost there," she replied reluctantly, brushing her messy hair back. "But whatever. Take your clothes off and get in bed already. And who even are you two?"
In the dim light of the lamp, the outlines of their faces seemed distorted.
Jasmine and the librarian didn't need a second invitation. They attacked both at the same time, their jaws unfolding into a nightmare of sharp teeth.
In the hallway, Smiley walked calmly to the edge of the main staircase, passing by a few residents too distracted by alcohol, talking loudly or leaning against the wall smoking.
The wide, inhuman smile he had carefully hidden to avoid drawing attention split across his face as he looked down at the hall below.
People were relaxed, immersed in a false sense of security provided by wooden walls and talismans.
Dale, sitting on one of the lower steps, held a bag of ice against his swollen nose.
Stacey stood beside him, arms crossed, looking thoroughly bored as she listened to his endless complaints.
"I'm older. There's such a thing as respect for hierarchy," Dale grumbled, his voice nasal from the ice. "That brat starts a fight and I'm the one who gets punched? Donna's lost it. She thinks she can—"
Something warm and viscous hit his forearm.
He stopped talking, frowning at the red stain spreading across his skin.
"What the hell is this? Is the ceiling leaking?" he asked, annoyed, extending his arm for Stacey to see.
She leaned in, her face shifting from apathy to genuine confusion.
"Dale... that looks like blood."
Dale scoffed, irritated, and looked up.
Smiley was leaning over the railing, his face protruding past the edge. The yellowish light reflected off the creature's perfectly aligned white teeth.
As Dale stared at him, frozen, a second drop of thick blood fell from the creature's mouth, landing precisely on his cheek.
The ice pack slipped from his hand, scattering frozen cubes across the carpet. His throat locked for a second before survival instinct took over.
"THEY'RE INSIDE!" he screamed in desperation. "THEY'RE IN HERE! THE CREATURES ARE INSIDE!"
Panic was instantaneous. The people at the top of the stairs tried to retreat but were intercepted by the monsters coming from the rooms.
Shrieks began to echo, mixing with the sound of shattering glass and bodies hitting the ground.
On the ground floor, Daniel and Julie were in a world of their own. They spoke in low tones until Dale's first scream tore through the air.
Daniel didn't panic, already guessing what was happening. He stood up and grabbed Julie's wrist, making sure she wouldn't be dragged by the hysterical crowd.
"Daniel, what... how did they...?" she stammered, her face losing all color.
"Don't ask. Just move."
Daniel activated the Wi-Fi of Danger to decide which path to take.
Dozens of red dots began to pulse, slowly descending the main staircase, spreading across the ceilings of the second and third floors and surrounding the house from outside. He didn't waste time trying to count. There were too many.
[Preliminary tactical analysis: You are completely screwed. Suggestion number one: Avoid eye contact. Suggestion number two: Use the panicked crowd as human shields. Morality is optional in survival.]
"Add suggestion number three: shut up," he thought, scanning the hall as he pulled Julie along.
He headed toward Donna, who was instructing the residents to get into the van and head for town.
"Donna! Why are they going outside?" Daniel shouted over the chaos. "Did you forget how this shit works? Get into a room! Use the talismans!"
Daniel's words cut through Donna's panic, making her remember that crucial detail.
"INSIDE! EVERYONE GET INSIDE!" Donna started shouting, spreading her arms to block the flow of people trying to leave. "IF YOU GO OUT THERE, YOU'RE DEAD! GET BACK TO THE KITCHEN! NOW!"
Some people, those who still had a sliver of rationality left, stopped abruptly, turned around, and ran toward the back of the house.
Others, consumed by terror, ignored her yells completely, shoved past Donna, and disappeared into the darkness of the lawn. Seconds later, the night was torn apart by sharp screams of agony.
"Have you seen Ellis?" Fatima asked, distressed.
When Daniel shook his head, she tried to run in the opposite direction, up the stairs, but stopped midway, stumbling back as she came face to face with two female creatures descending in perfect coordination.
"Fatima, to the kitchen! There's a talisman in there!" Donna shouted again, grabbing the young woman and leading the rest of the group on the ground floor.
The crowd began to crush violently into the hallway leading to the kitchen, following Donna.
Daniel kept Julie pressed against his back. He felt the shoving intensify, people using elbows and shoulders to push their way forward.
A tall man, blinded by desperation, slammed into Julie, throwing her against the wall. Daniel saw the fear on her face mix with the sharp pain of the impact.
Without hesitation, he threw two quick, precise punches at the residents being the most aggressive. One of them staggered back, blood gushing from his nose, instantly opening space.
Daniel felt no remorse. In his mind, the calculation was simple: Julie was the priority; everything else was just background noise.
One of the creatures — a woman in a floral dress with perfectly styled hair — emerged from a side corridor, making the passing residents scream in panic and run even faster.
She didn't care about them; her attention was fixed on Daniel, who had stopped and was staring at her.
"Stay by my side," Daniel instructed Julie.
Julie shifted her focus between the kitchen door, where people were rushing in, and Daniel's back. Her mind split in two, adrenaline telling her to run, trust telling her to stay.
Even without understanding why he had stopped to face the creature instead of just running, she clenched her teeth and stayed beside him, refusing to leave.
Daniel let out a slow breath; he hadn't realized he'd been holding it. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips.
She didn't run. Good girl.
In a fluid movement that defied physics and the perception of anyone paying attention, a heavy, loaded twelve-gauge shotgun simply materialized in his hands.
[Ah, finally. I thought we were going to die using only your charm and sarcasm as weapons. Which, let's be honest, would've been an incredibly embarrassing death for both of us.]
"Quiet," Daniel muttered, bracing the stock firmly against his right shoulder.
Julie let out a small, muffled gasp, her eyes widening as she saw a weapon appear out of nowhere.
"Cover your ears."
Still stunned, she obeyed on instinct, raising trembling hands to her ears.
Satisfied with her quick reaction, Daniel aimed and pulled the trigger.
The shot thundered in the enclosed space. The impact of the heavy round struck the creature square in the chest, throwing her violently two steps back.
Daniel didn't blink. He pumped the shotgun, ejecting the smoking shell, and fired twice more in quick succession. The holes that tore through the creature's chest were the size of clenched fists.
Just as he expected, she merely leaned forward slightly, curiously observing the shredded flesh and torn clothes, as if evaluating a scraped knee.
Seconds later, she lifted her head and began walking toward him again, the same disgusting smile returning to her face.
"Seriously? That's it?" Daniel mocked, lowering the weapon for a split second just to break the absurd tension of the moment. "I expected more drama. At least a theatrical fall. You're basically walking bullet sponges."
He had the urge to pull a grenade from his inventory, but an explosion that could start a fire wasn't the ideal plan. At least not today.
Despite how reckless it looked, Daniel had the situation under control. His peripheral vision constantly swept the minimap, ensuring the red dots weren't closing in from the sides.
The only thing that would truly worry him was if those things started running. As long as they walked like elderly people on a park stroll, they were manageable. And in this hell, "manageable" was a luxury.
"Daniel, enough! Let's go!" Julie shouted, tugging at his jacket while pointing toward the kitchen, where the last residents were rushing in.
He didn't resist. The two of them ran the final meters and dove inside under Donna's sharp, commanding shouts.
The house leader slammed the double doors shut with brutal force. Trembling, she hung the talisman on the rusted nail above the doorframe.
For a second... no one said anything.
The sound coming from outside was the soundtrack of a slaughterhouse. Deafening screams that abruptly turned into wet, choking gurgles.
And beneath it all, low laughter.
"Where's Ellis?" Fatima cried, scanning every face in the kitchen. Her hands flew to her head when she realized he wasn't there. "He's not here! I have to go get him!"
She rushed toward the door, but Donna grabbed her around the waist, using her weight to hold her back. "No! You are not going out that door!"
"He's out there! He's drunk, Donna!" Fatima sobbed, struggling against her grip.
"He has a talisman in his room!" Donna shouted back, her voice breaking. "He knows what to do. If you open that door, everyone here dies."
Fatima collapsed to the floor, her sobs turning into a silent, broken wail of pain and guilt.
In a more secluded corner near the counter, Daniel leaned the reloaded shotgun against the wall and pulled Julie close. She was trembling from head to toe, her gaze still locked on the wooden door separating them from death.
He wrapped her in a firm embrace, pressing her face into his chest, blocking her view of the rest of the kitchen.
"Take a deep breath," he whispered near her ear, his voice steady and protective. "I won't let anything happen to you."
---
While the talisman protected the kitchen, the rest of the house had become a labyrinth of death.
On the third floor, hidden in his room filled with drawings and trinkets, Victor felt the past and present collide. The sharp sound of screams and wet gurgles was nothing new. They brought back memories he had spent decades trying to bury.
With steady fingers, trained by routine and fear, he grabbed a thick rope he kept stashed under the table. He tied it with clumsy but tight knots to an exposed beam in the ceiling.
When he opened the window to escape, he was met with the heavy wooden boards Daniel had nailed in place. The sound of heavy footsteps and soft giggles echoed through the hallway, getting closer to his door.
He stepped back and began kicking the barrier with hysterical force. The old structure started to give. With one final desperate kick, an opening formed, tearing the nails from the wall.
He threw the rope outside and, with effort, began his descent.
Once he hit the ground, he ran straight into the darkness of the forest, disappearing among the trees.
In another room, Ellis's situation was critical.
The moment he heard screams coming from downstairs, the numbing effects of alcohol in his system were wiped away by a massive surge of adrenaline and guilt.
His mind locked onto a single objective: protect his girlfriend.
He grabbed the talisman hanging in the room, opened the door, and rushed into the hallway.
"Fatima!" he called out, his voice breaking, bracing himself against the walls as he staggered forward.
But the hallway was infested. Two creatures walked toward him at a slow pace, their macabre smiles lit by flickering lights.
Ellis tried to make it to the stairs but tripped over the mutilated corpse of a resident lying in the middle of the path.
He felt a sharp snap in his ankle, and the pain threw him off balance.
Grunting, he crawled toward the nearest door—a suite belonging to one of the house's elderly residents—pushed it open, threw himself inside, and slammed it shut with his good heel.
Trembling, Ellis locked the door manually and hung the talisman on the doorknob.
He heard the footsteps stop right outside. There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of soft scratching against the wood. But they couldn't get in.
That was when he turned his head and saw the room's former occupant lying on the bed, throat slit, staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
Ellis swallowed hard. He was trapped inside with a corpse. And worse—the sound of people screaming downstairs kept echoing without end. In his mind, he imagined Fatima among them.
"Please... let her be okay," he whispered to the empty space, crossing his trembling fingers and beginning to pray fervently to a God he had never believed in.
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