The panic started before they even left the ballroom.
The large TV screen above the stage, usually tuned to a loop of resort amenities, suddenly flickered. The image of the dancers dissolved into static, then snapped to a live feed from Bangkok.
The reporter wasn't speaking. The camera was lying on the ground, tilted sideways. In the frame, the golden spires of a temple were visible, but they were obscured by thick, black smoke.
A figure blurred past the lens. It was moving at a speed that didn't seem human—a literal streak of motion.
Then came the sound. It wasn't a scream. It was a chorus of high-pitched, chattering barks, like a pack of hyenas tearing into a kill, amplified by the chaos of the city.
The guests in the ballroom began to murmur. The "Traditional" dancers on stage stopped. They all stood perfectly still. Their eyes were wide, the pupils so dilated that their eyes looked like two black holes.
Marcus Sterling pushed his way to the front, knocking over a waiter. "Turn that off! You're upsetting the guests! Where is the manager? I demand to speak to the manager!"
"The manager is in the kitchen, Mr. Sterling," a voice said.
It was Kofi. He and Jengo were standing by the main double doors, their weapons now visible. Kofi held a submachine gun; Jengo had a machete. They were locking the heavy mahogany doors.
"And he's currently eating the head chef," Kofi added, his voice devoid of emotion.
The room went dead silent.
Then, Sarah Caldwell stood up. She let out a sharp, jagged cry. She gripped her head, her manicured nails digging into her scalp until she drew blood.
"It's too loud!" she screamed. "Everything is too loud!"
She turned on Liam. The woman who had spent the flight talking about "digital detoxes" and "romantic bonfires" was gone. Her jaw was unhinged, her teeth bared in a rictus grin. Her veins were pulsing a dark, bruised purple under her skin.
She didn't speak. She didn't cry. She lunged.
She hit Liam with the force of a car crash, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. The sound of tearing fabric and flesh echoed through the ballroom.
"Liam!" Maggie screamed.
Thomas grabbed Maggie and Lucas, shoving them toward the service exit behind the stage. "Don't look! Run!"
Lucas looked anyway. He saw Sarah—the "Before"—tearing a piece of her husband away. He saw the black blood spraying onto her white lace dress. And then he saw the dancers.
They were dropping to all fours. Their limbs were snapping into place, twisting at angles that made Lucas's stomach turn. They weren't people anymore. They were shapes. They were The Frenzy.
"Move!" Jax shouted, appearing from the side door. He grabbed Lucas by the arm and pulled him into the darkness of the kitchen.
The Gilded Cage had been opened. And the monsters were already inside.