Rose was taken aback by the violent entry.
Antoine stood before her, his face twisted with rage, a combat knife clenched in his right hand, his eyes wild. She quickly stepped in, pushing him back with her arms.
— "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! CAN'T YOU SEE SHE'S JUST AN INFECTED?! SHE'S GOING TO BITE THAT WOMAN!"
Antoine, terrified, stared at the old lady, his expression reflecting indescribable horror.
Rose saw it in his eyes—he was panicking, losing himself to fear and instincts.
— "STOP THIS INSUBORDINATION, ANTOINE! I'LL HANDLE IT, ALRIGHT?!" she shouted. "Next time you talk to me like that, I'll make you eat your own bullets!"
Antoine let out a nervous, broken laugh, paralyzed by terror.
— "Chief… that lady… she's just sitting there, staring at me… with that smile… I swear, Chief, I see a demon. That's no zombie, no infected—it's a fucking demon! KILL HER OR LET ME DO IT!"
He shoved his superior.
Rose fell to the ground as the other adults, alarmed by the commotion, tried to restrain him. But Antoine, driven by sheer panic, lashed out, slashing his knife across the father's throat.
Blood and entrails spilled onto the floor.
Screams of terror erupted inside the apartment.
— "I TOLD YOU TO CALM THE HELL DOWN!"
Rose fought desperately, locking Antoine into a submission hold. Using her legs, she disarmed him; with her arms, she pinned him down.
A sickening crack echoed as Antoine's elbow twisted unnaturally. He gasped, tapping frantically on the floor.
— "Haaa…!"
The others rushed toward the dying father. One of them grabbed the little girl, shielding her from the horror of her father's final moments.
Antoine couldn't even finish his sentence—Rose stuffed a cloth into his mouth and bound his wrists with makeshift restraints, tying him to a radiator nearby.
Even then, he kept screaming, his muffled cries filling the room.
— "Rose… you need to see this."
The old woman's body still lay on the bed, but her face was growing paler, almost cadaveric.
And then Rose saw it—that twisted grin.
Antoine wasn't entirely wrong.
— "What if… what if he was right?"
Laura's voice shook with fear.
— "I remember… she mentioned 'The Angel'…" Laura whispered. "Are we really sure this is just a virus? Ever since we got here, we keep having nightmares and—"
A shriek cut her off.
The old woman—now undead—grabbed Laura's hair.
The infection had already claimed her, and now, she lunged forward, laughing maniacally, her teeth snapping hungrily toward Laura's throat.
— "HAAA! HELP ME!"
Laura thrashed, trying to push the creature away.
Rose shoved Laura aside and plunged a knife into the old woman's skull. The undead thing let out a final, guttural sound before slumping lifelessly onto the bed.
Laura collapsed, sobbing.
— "…"
Rose remained silent.
As brutal as the situation was… she couldn't ignore Antoine's terror.
Abandoned Building, Downtown Lille – 9:00 AM
Rose stood apart from the others.
Antoine's words echoed in her mind: "They're here for me… for us…"
His muffled cries haunted her.
And that smile—that grotesque, frozen grin on the old woman's corpse—it wouldn't leave her mind.
A cold shiver ran down her spine. She snapped her eyes open.
— "What now?"
A bearded man—around 45, broad-shouldered, his face lined with exhaustion—looked at her, searching for answers.
Rose hesitated.
— "We… stick to the plan," she murmured, her voice weak.
Her thoughts blurred. The world felt distant, unreal, as if she was slipping away.
The 15-year-old boy in the corner had seen everything.
Tears welled in his eyes as he desperately searched for comfort.
Rose thought of her brother. Just for a second. A painful flash of memory.
— "You're really going to keep him with us?" Célia, the widow, spat, her voice trembling with fury.
She was shaking, barely containing her grief.
— "That man killed my husband! The man I loved! The father of my child! And you're just standing there doing nothing?!"
The words hit like a knife to the gut.
Guilt wrapped around Rose like a noose.
But she couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
— "It's not his fault," the bearded man argued. "The kid lost his mind because of this place. It's eating him alive."
— "And so what?!" Célia snapped, her anger boiling over. "You're soldiers, right?! You're supposed to keep it together! To protect people! We're all exhausted, we're all falling apart—but you are supposed to be the ones keeping us safe! Not killing us!"
She stormed toward Rose and shoved her hard.
Rose stumbled back, still unresponsive.
Her ears rang.
Her head pounded.
Am I losing it?
— "Rose… Rose…" A distant, familiar voice whispered.
She shut her eyes, trying to regain focus.
— "ENOUGH!"
The bearded man's deep voice thundered through the narrow space.
Célia flinched, about to retort—
But then—
A noise.
Faint. Almost imperceptible.
A creak in the hallway.
Then… a sickening crack.
Everyone froze.
The middle-aged man shot to his feet, creeping toward the door, pressing his ear against the wood.
The sound grew closer.
The unmistakable clicking of jaws echoed from the darkness beyond.
Followed by low, guttural growls.
— "They're here…" he whispered, his eyes widening in terror.