Infected Realms

Chapter 1: The Sleep Study

On the other side of the multiverse, our Earth continued on as normal—or as close to normal as it could get. The remnants of a global pandemic still weighed heavily on society, and the world was still adjusting to life in the aftermath of multiple waves of coronaviruses. Yet, amidst the cautious optimism of recovery, life went on.

In a quiet, nondescript research facility hidden in the mountains, a small group of individuals had gathered for a scientific study. They were part of an experiment aimed at understanding the effects of extreme sleep deprivation on the human brain. The volunteers, each with their own reasons for signing up, were paid well for their participation. All they had to do was stay awake, be monitored, and allow the scientists to collect data on their brainwaves and behaviors.

For most of them, it seemed like easy money.

Among the participants was **Evelyn**, a neuroscientist who had reluctantly taken on the role of overseeing the study. She had her doubts from the beginning—not about the study itself but about the ethics of pushing people beyond their physical limits for the sake of science. Still, the funding was too good to pass up, and the potential breakthroughs in understanding the human brain were undeniable. The study would run for several weeks, with participants subjected to controlled periods of wakefulness and sleep deprivation.

Evelyn glanced at the monitors in the control room, watching the brainwave patterns of the volunteers in their individual rooms. So far, nothing unusual had happened—just the typical signs of fatigue and cognitive slowdown that came with sleep deprivation.

But something was about to change.

A spike in one of the brainwave readings caught her eye. It belonged to **Subject 7**, a man named **Jeremy** who had been among the most resilient participants so far. His brainwaves were suddenly erratic, showing patterns that Evelyn had never seen before—deep, rapid oscillations that shouldn't have been possible in a waking state.

"Subject 7 is spiking," Evelyn said to her assistant, **Dr. Marcos**, a young scientist who had been eager to push the boundaries of the study. "That's not normal."

Dr. Marcos glanced at the screen, his excitement barely contained. "This could be a breakthrough! We've never seen brainwaves like this during sleep deprivation. It's almost as if he's—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the lights flickered, and a strange hum filled the room.

The monitors blinked off for a split second, then came back online, displaying distorted images—static-riddled views of the participants in their rooms. Evelyn's heart raced as she quickly scanned the feeds. Jeremy, Subject 7, was sitting upright in his bed, his eyes wide open and glassy, staring at the camera.

He wasn't blinking.

"What the hell..." Evelyn whispered, feeling a knot form in her stomach. "Get him out of there. Now."

But it was too late. Jeremy's body convulsed violently, thrashing against the bed. Alarms blared as his heart rate skyrocketed, his vitals going haywire.

The other participants began to stir in their rooms, reacting to the alarms. One of them, **Maya**, a quiet, tech-savvy woman who had been monitoring her own data through a smartwatch, shot out of bed, her eyes darting toward the camera in her room.

Something was very, very wrong.

Suddenly, Jeremy stopped convulsing. His body went still, too still, and for a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, slowly, he sat up again, his movements unnaturally smooth, his head tilting at an odd angle as he looked directly into the camera.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat as Jeremy's mouth twisted into a smile. It wasn't a smile of recognition or relief. It was something else—something darker, something that didn't belong to him.

Jeremy stood and began walking toward the door of his room, his hand reaching for the handle. The lock beeped, and the door swung open on its own.

"What the hell is going on?!" Dr. Marcos shouted, fumbling with the controls.

Evelyn's hands flew over the keyboard, trying to lock the doors remotely, but the system wasn't responding. Every door to the participants' rooms unlocked simultaneously, as if someone—or something—had overridden the controls.

Jeremy stepped into the hallway, his expression blank, his eyes unfocused but intent on something unseen.

"Evelyn, we need to stop this!" Marcos yelled, panic rising in his voice.

But Evelyn couldn't move. She was frozen, staring at the monitor as Jeremy moved closer to the camera in the hallway. For a moment, his face seemed to shift—his features blurring, becoming unfamiliar. And then, in a single horrifying second, his face changed entirely, replaced by a decayed, skeletal visage.

Evelyn blinked, and the face was gone. Jeremy's blank expression remained.

But something had crossed over.