In the year 2052, a devastating virus, engineered by the Russian government as a bioweapon, escapes containment before its completion. Within a year, the world spirals into chaos. The virus not only turns its victims into the undead but also renders...
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The sterile, fluorescent-lit cafeteria buzzed with the clatter of trays and murmured conversation. Rows of tables stretched across the room, filled with prisoners dressed in identical, drab grey uniforms. Anna stepped through the doors, the shock collar snug around her neck pricking uncomfortably as she scanned the room. The sight of Sebastian, slumped over a table with his hands cuffed in front of him, made her pause.
When he looked up, their eyes met, and relief mixed with tension crossed his face. Anna approached, each step feeling heavier as she took in the toll this place had already left on him.
"Sebastian," she murmured, sliding into the seat across from him. Despite the exhaustion etched across his features, he managed a faint smirk.
"Well, look who survived long enough to see another grim breakfast," he muttered, his tone laced with bitterness. "Thought I'd be dining alone."
Anna gave a thin smile. "Yeah, same here. They sure know how to roll out the welcome mat."
Sebastian's gaze darted around, catching sight of the guards stationed nearby, shock-control remotes strapped to their belts like ever-present threats. Leaning in, he lowered his voice. "Have you heard anything? About Victor?"
She shook her head, her expression darkening. "Nothing. They haven't told me a thing, just dragged me room to room for more questions. It's like we're not even... people."
Sebastian's fists tightened, knuckles whitening against the metal tray. "Damn them for putting us in these dog collars. I ain't nobody's pet."
Silence fell between them, a tense acknowledgment of their mutual frustration. For a moment, they simply sat together, each finding an odd sense of comfort in the other's presence amid the cold, unyielding walls.
Sebastian chewed slowly, his movements slowing until he stopped altogether, his eyes dropping to the metal tray in front of him. Anna's sharp gaze caught the subtle shift, the way his fingers tightened around the spoon as if fighting back some inner turmoil.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her tone low but insistent.
He took a shaky breath, not meeting her eyes. "I... I told them things, Anna. Things about Victor I shouldn't have. They forced me, cornered me in that damn room with a zombie to scare the hell outta me, and I gave in."
Anna's expression softened, though her worry deepened. "Sebastian..."
"I just-I couldn't take it. I'd never seen anything like it before, and that thing got too close, snarling, rotting, like they just let it loose to make me spill. And now... they know things they can use against him. They know enough to make his life here even worse."
Sebastian's hand clenched into a fist on the table, his face contorted in frustration and guilt. Anna reached across the table, placing a steadying hand over his. "Sebastian, listen to me. You were forced into it. That's not on you. They're... monsters for putting us in that position. For putting you in that position."
