Bloodlines of Survival

Chapter 3: The Fall Begins

By midweek, the world had descended into chaos. The virus spread with a ferocity no one had anticipated, overwhelming hospitals and breaking down social order in a matter of days. The news was a relentless torrent of horror—cities burning, governments crumbling, and the dead rising. Every channel, every update, was a grim reminder that their world was disintegrating.

Gwen sat in her office, the screens before her flashing with encrypted messages from her contacts. Each new piece of information sent a fresh wave of dread through her. This was no ordinary virus; it was engineered, a bioweapon designed to wreak havoc on a global scale. And it was far worse than anyone had imagined. The infected didn't just die—they transformed. They retained some semblance of their former selves, but their humanity was twisted into something monstrous, driven by an insatiable hunger for flesh and a burning need to spread the virus.

The knowledge gnawed at her, a bitter truth she could barely stomach. Her hands trembled as she closed the last of the reports, her mind racing. How could they possibly fight something like this? How could anyone?

The house was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of her family drowned out by the heavy silence of fear. Jamie had taken the kids upstairs to play, trying to keep them distracted, to protect them from the grim reality closing in around them. Gwen knew it was only a matter of time before the virus reached their doorstep.

She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the tension that had settled there like a permanent fixture. But then, out of nowhere, a sharp craving hit her—a sudden, inexplicable hunger that clawed at her insides. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, a deep, primal urge that made her stomach churn. Gwen froze, her breath catching in her throat.

*No. No, no, no...*

She staggered to the bathroom, gripping the sink as a wave of nausea washed over her. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and gaunt, dark circles etched under her eyes. She leaned closer, inspecting her pupils—were they...dilating? Her senses seemed heightened, the faintest sound from upstairs ringing in her ears like a siren, the scent of dinner from earlier lingering in the air, impossibly strong.

*Oh God...*

The realization hit her like a freight train. She was infected. Somehow, in the chaos of everything, the virus had found its way into her system, and now it was changing her, warping her from the inside out. Panic surged through her, but she quickly pushed it down, forcing herself to think. She couldn't let Jamie or the kids see her like this. She couldn't let them know.

Gwen took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She couldn't afford to fall apart—not now. Not when her family needed her most. *I have to stay in control.* She repeated the words like a mantra, clinging to the hope that she could somehow fight this, that there was still time to protect them.

"Gwen?" Jamie's voice called out, pulling her from her thoughts. He appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his face. "Everything okay?"

She turned, plastering a smile on her face that she hoped looked convincing. "Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, her voice a little too quick. "Just...a headache. It's been a long day."

Jamie studied her for a moment, his eyes searching hers. "You sure? You've been working yourself to the bone, and with everything that's going on..."

"I'm fine," she insisted, a bit more firmly than she intended. She softened her tone, reaching out to touch his arm. "Really, I'm okay. I just need some rest."

He didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Gwen melted into the embrace, savoring the warmth of his touch, the steady beat of his heart against hers. But even as she held him, the gnawing hunger inside her grew, a dark whisper at the back of her mind that she couldn't silence.

"What do you say we put the kids to bed early tonight?" Jamie murmured against her hair. "We could use some time to ourselves, just to...breathe."

"That sounds perfect," Gwen whispered back, her voice barely steady. She pulled away, forcing another smile as she looked up at him. "I'll go check on the kids."

As she made her way upstairs, Gwen's mind raced, the weight of her secret threatening to crush her. She found the twins in their room, surrounded by toys, their innocent chatter a brief reprieve from the horror unfolding in her mind.

"Mommy!" Samantha exclaimed as Gwen entered, holding up a drawing she'd been working on. "Look! It's us at the park!"

Gwen's heart clenched at the sight of the crude but cheerful drawing. "It's beautiful, sweetheart," she said, kneeling down to kiss the top of her daughter's head. "You're such a talented artist."

Kohl tugged at her sleeve, his wide eyes full of questions. "Mom, when can we go back to the park? It's been days!"

Gwen forced a smile, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Soon, baby. Very soon." *If I can keep you safe... if I can keep myself from becoming something that could hurt you.*

She tucked them into bed, reading them a story even as her voice shook slightly, the effort of maintaining her composure wearing on her. When they finally drifted off to sleep, Gwen lingered by the door, watching them with a mix of love and despair.

*How long before they notice something's wrong? How long before I can't hide it anymore?*

She returned to the bedroom, where Jamie was already lying in bed, scrolling through his phone with a frown. "More bad news?" she asked, trying to sound casual as she climbed in beside him.

"Yeah," he sighed, setting the phone down. "It's getting worse, Gwen. We might need to start thinking about... about leaving. Getting out of the city, away from people."

Gwen's heart skipped a beat. "Do you really think it's come to that?" she asked, though deep down, she knew he was right.

"I don't know," he admitted, turning to face her, his hand finding hers under the covers. "But I'm not taking any chances. We have to protect the kids. No matter what."

Gwen nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "We'll figure it out," she whispered, though the words felt hollow. She squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his resolve, even as the darkness inside her continued to grow.

That night, as Jamie drifted off to sleep, Gwen lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind a storm of fear and determination. She was infected. She was changing. But she couldn't let it take her—not yet. She had to fight it, to find some way to keep it at bay.

Because if she didn't, the virus would take everything from her—her mind, her body, and the people she loved most.