Chapter 4: Office

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I stepped out of the elevator into the large office. It was full of computers. Plenty of data to secure on my way back from his place.

The smell of crayons got stronger.

I looked around, noticing another infected. This one was a Sightseer. They only moved if they could see you, their sense of hearing and smell were completely removed. Their skin was also white, though their eyes were a deep red.

If they saw you though, they were far too fast for you to escape, even in a car.

I could hear his panting, none of them had noses. I grabbed a mouse from one of the computers, tossing it to the other side of the room. It yapped, turning around and running towards it. I moved quickly past towards another hallway. The white tiles were covered in goo, like footsteps. I followed them, another Sightseer was in front of the path. He moved down to where the footprints are and looked around. His head was about to look directly at me, but the power went out just in time. I could see clearly in the dark, the infected couldn't.

I jumped into a nearby cubicle, hiding under one of the desks. I cut a little hole in the soft cubicle wall, peeking out to watch.

I heard a door open. "Ugh... again? Just when it was getting good..." A voice came from the same place the door opened.

Who the hell is that? I thought to myself. Another uninfected? I've never heard of an infected who can speak...

I saw a flashlight click on and some slimey feet walk by. It's skin was grey. It stopped in front of the Sightseer. "What's wrong boy? Is everything okay?" The thing barked, and licked the other guy's face. "Aww, that's a good boy!" He giggles, patting the dog on the head. It walked further, but stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. The light clicked off.

My heart raced, I stayed perfectly still, praying to whatever god was left that he wouldn't kill me. If he could tame infecteds, how much power does he have?

He walked to the desk. I was dead, or worse.

He moved the chair, looking under the desk and shining the light on me.

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