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Project Dakota: Rising of the dead
Last Updated : 2025-10-28
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For twins Ethel and Elise, the line between dream and nightmare was always thin—and on Paron Island, it has been completely erased. Their idyllic gap year, a sun-soaked mosaic of beach bonfires and reckless abandon, is shattered in an instant. A "project," as the panicked news reports cryptically call it, has gone horrifically wrong, releasing a pathogen that reanimates the dead with a singular, gruesome purpose: to feed. The sisters' bond, once defined by shared secrets and sibling rivalry, is now their only anchor in a world drowning in blood. Driven by a raw, primal instinct to protect each other, they join forces with a few other fortunate—or unfortunate—souls who survived the initial onslaught. Together, this makeshift family must navigate the ruins of their former paradise, where every shadow hides a potential threat and every human sound could be a lure. Ethel, the more cautious sister, finds a hidden strength in strategy, while Elise's impulsive nature becomes both a weapon and a liability. But their fight against the decaying hordes is only the surface of the terror. Whispers of a coordinated presence, of supplies that go missing too conveniently, and of strangers who seem to know too much, point to a more insidious truth: the island's collapse was not a random tragedy. They are being hunted by something that thinks, that plans, that wears a human face. As their hope for rescue dwindles, Ethel and Elise are forced to confront the ultimate horror—that in the midst of an apocalypse, the most monstrous creatures of all are still human.
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Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Epilogue
The dust motes were her only companions, the tiny, dancing sprites of forgotten air. They swirled in the single, slender finger of sunlight that pierced the gloom of her room, a room that was not a room at all but a tomb of rough-hewn stone and despair. It was cold, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and made a home there, a permanent chill that no amount of huddling or shivering could ever dislodge. The walls pressed in, not with a visible motion, but with a heavy, constant weight, making her feel impossibly small, a forgotten trinket on a dusty shelf. In this oppressive silence, the only thing that felt real, that felt like hers, was that crack in the wall.It was more a flaw in the ancient masonry than a window, a long, jagged line that ran diagonally across the stone, wide enough in one place to press her eye against, wide enough to let in that precious, life-giving beam of light. Now, standing on her toes, her bare feet cold against the gritty floor, she leaned into the
Last Updated : 2025-10-28Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Sixty-three
The night after the exile was not a time of rest, but a protracted, collective daze. The shelter, usually settling into a wary quiet after sundown, was instead a hive of subdued, sorrowful activity. Jake’s funeral was to be held at first light, a decision made both for the practical advantage of cooler temperatures and because no one could bear to let another full day pass without laying their friend to rest. The knowledge of it hung over everyone, a somber deadline that made sleep impossible.Ethel moved through the hours in a state of emotional suspension. Her body performed the necessary tasks—checking on the dwindling food stores with Ben, speaking in low tones with Moe and Carlos about rotating watch schedules, ensuring the perimeter was doubly secure in the wake of Marcus’s banishment—but her mind was elsewhere. It was trapped in a loop of memory and anticipatory grief. She wasn’t ready for this. The finality of it, the physical act of lowering a box containing all that remained
Last Updated : 2025-10-26Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Sixty-two
The grim finality of the vote settled over the shelter like a shroud of lead. The words, "The sentence is exile," echoed in the cavernous silence of the hall, a verdict that felt to many not like justice, but like a precarious, half-measure, a dangerous gamble with their collective future. A low, restless murmur rippled through the assembled crowd, a current of disbelief and simmering fury. Exile. It meant he would still be breathing. It meant he was out there, somewhere in the vast, unforgiving ruins, a predator set loose, his rage and psychosis now amplified by a death sentence narrowly avoided. The fear was palpable, a sour taste in the air. People were pissed, their faces etched with a fresh layer of terror. They had wanted closure, a final, brutal line drawn under the horror. Instead, they had been given a ghost, a perpetual boogeyman who now had a very real, very personal grudge against every single soul within their walls.Ethel stood amidst the discontent, her own disappointme
Last Updated : 2025-10-26Project Dakota: Rising of the dead Chapter Sixty-one
The first conscious sensation for Ethel was not the pale, grimy light filtering through the dust-caked window of her small room, but a profound, cellular ache, as if every particle of her being had been pulverized into a fine, leaden powder during the night. She did not open her eyes immediately, clinging instead to the fragile blankness of the semi-waking state, a gray, featureless plain where the horror had not yet fully coalesced. But memory, cruel and inexorable, flooded the void. It did not come as a single image, but as a wave, a physical pressure on her chest that made breathing a conscious, laborious act.It was the memory of sound that broke her first: the raw, jagged sound of another human soul tearing itself apart. Elise’s breakdown. Ethel had told her. She had practiced the words in the silent theater of her mind, sanding down their sharp, lethal edges, trying to coat them in a veneer of manageable tragedy. Jake is gone. There was an accident. It was quick. Lies, all of th
Last Updated : 2025-10-26
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