CHAPTER 4 — THREE HOURS LATER

There is a distinct, deeply satisfying art to opening a door for two people who fully deserve every single bad thing about to happen to them.

I didn't immediately unbolt the heavy iron lock. I took a slow, deliberate bite of a dried mango slice from my spatial pocket, chewed thoroughly, and leaned against the doorframe.

"Who is it?" I asked, keeping my voice bright, cheerful, and entirely unbothered by the chorus of bloody screams echoing up the concrete stairwell outside.

"Lena! It’s Ethan and Sera!" Ethan yelled, pounding his fists so hard against the oak paneling that the door shuddered. "Are you deaf?! People are biting each other in the lobby! A guy in a sharp polo shirt just tried to eat a potted fern, and then he ate the mailman! Open up!"

"Oh no, not the mailman!" I gasped with zero actual emotion. "Did he drop off my online order first?"

"LENA, THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR LOGISTICS!" Sera shrieked from the hallway. Her voice hit a frequency that could crack cheap crystal. "There's blood on my Jimmy Choos! Open the door right now or I swear I'm telling Dad you're being emotional again!"

I slid the deadbolt open with a loud, metallic CLACK and swung the door wide.

Ethan and Sera tumbled into my living room like two sweaty, panicked sacks of laundry. Ethan was wearing his signature over-styled hair, though three strands were sticking up like a frantic cockatoo. Sera was clutching a leather designer handbag to her chest as if it could deflect biological horrors.

"Lock it! Lock it!" Ethan scrambled to his feet, slamming the door shut and sliding the bolt back into place. He leaned his forehead against the painted wood, panting like a golden retriever that had sprinted a marathon. "It's madness out there! The news channels went black! The wifi is dead! I couldn't even post my emergency update on I*******m!"

"Truly, the greatest tragedy of our generation," I said, leaning casually against my reinforced entryway console, arms crossed over my chest.

Sera smoothed down her trench coat, instantly attempting to regain her condescending poise despite looking like she’d just survived a wind tunnel. "Lena, thank goodness you were home. Honestly, you should be grateful we came straight to your apartment. Ethan and I realized that as the stronger, more capable survival team, we need to take control of your space."

"My space?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, your space," Ethan chimed in, turning around with a serious, theatrical look in his eyes—the exact same look he gave when he tried to explain why he spent our vacation fund on crypto. "Look around, Lena. You have a sturdy apartment on the third floor. I am the man here, so naturally, I’ll be managing the food rations, the defensive perimeter, and the structural command."

"He has two yellow-belt classes in middle school, Lena," Sera added proudly, nodding. "He’s practically a navy seal."

"He used an elderly woman as a human shield in another timeline," I muttered under my breath.

"What?" Ethan blinked.

"Nothing," I smiled sweetly. "So, what's the grand plan, grand marshal Ethan?"

"First, we inventory your kitchen," Ethan declared, stepping past me into the living room with the unearned confidence of a mid-level middle manager. "Sera and I will take the master bedroom because we need optimal rest to strategize. You can sleep on the rug by the balcony. It’s about teamwork, Lena."

Before I could reply, a deafening CRASH shattered the peaceful atmosphere of the third floor.

The sound of splintering wood and smashing metal detonated right outside my apartment. Screams echoed down the corridor, followed by the terrifyingly familiar sound of wet, gurgling moans and frantic, shuffling footsteps.

"They're on our floor!" Sera shrieked, instantly jumping behind Ethan and grabbing his jacket, almost pulling him off balance. "Ethan! Do something! Use your middle-school karate!"

"I can't kick an entire horde, Sera!" Ethan squeaked, his voice pitching high enough to shatter glass.

The heavy oak door of my apartment shuddered under a massive impact. BAM!

The frame groaned. The top hinge cracked under the force of multiple bodies slamming against it from the outside.

"They're coming through!" Ethan panicked, his eyes darting frantically around my apartment. His gaze locked onto me, then onto the heavy front door, then onto the small gap where the hinges were pulling away from the drywall.

And then, just like in my previous life, his face twisted into that exact same mask of cowardly calculation.

"Lena!" Ethan bellowed, his voice dripping with fake, dramatic heroism. "We have to clear the entryway! Hold them back while Sera and I secure the back balcony!"

He didn't wait for my answer. Ethan lunged forward, grabbing my shoulders with both hands. Beside him, Sera darted in with astonishing speed for someone in high heels, locking her hands against my waist.

"Sorry, sis! Survival of the fittest!" Sera squealed.

Together, they threw their full weight forward, violently shoving me straight into the buckling front door just as the top hinge gave way entirely.

The heavy door collapsed inward, and I tumbled onto the floor right into the arms of the incoming horde.

"We'll remember your sacrifice, Lena!" Ethan shouted from behind me, grabbing Sera’s hand and sprinting toward the kitchen. "We'll name our first dog after you!"

I hit the floor hard. A heavy, grey-skinned infected in a torn delivery uniform instantly lunged down, its yellowed teeth snapping shut directly onto my left forearm with a sickening, wet CRUNCH.

Pain—sharp and sudden—flared through my arm.

From the kitchen threshold, Ethan and Sera paused to watch, expecting me to scream, bleed out, and be devoured in a horrific spectacle of gore while they made their quiet exit through the balcony window.

Instead, I just laid there on the floor.

I looked down at the zombie currently gnawing on my arm. The zombie looked up at me.

"Is that really the best bite force you've got?" I asked the ghoul. "Honestly, my dentist is more aggressive during a routine cleaning."

The delivery zombie blinked its milky, dead eyes, thoroughly confused by my lack of hysterical screaming.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION INITIATED.

A bright, glowing blue holographic panel flared to life directly in front of my vision.

[Host has successfully absorbed viral exposure.]

[Dual Genetic Structure synchronized.]

[Evo-Gene Integration: 100%.]

[Form Shift Unlocked: Human Form / Evolved Zombie Form.]

The dull pain in my arm vanished completely, replaced by a surge of raw, crackling electrical power surging through my nervous system.

Slowly, calmly, I stood up. The delivery zombie tried to bite my arm again, but its teeth hit my skin and snapped cleanly in half with a pathetic CLICK. My skin hadn't just survived—it had hardened into cold, flawless, impenetrable pale marble.

I turned around to face Ethan and Sera.

Ethan was frozen in mid-stride near the kitchen counter. Sera’s mouth was open so wide her lip gloss looked completely forgotten.

"Why... why aren't you screaming?" Ethan stammered, stepping back until his rear bumped into the stove. "She... she got bitten! Sera, she got bitten!"

"She's supposed to be eaten!" Sera whimpered, backing behind Ethan again. "Why aren't they eating her?!"

"Let me show you why," I smiled.

I willed the transformation to trigger.

Shift: Evolved Zombie Form.

In an instant, the temperature in the living room plummeted by twenty degrees. My skin drained of its warm human tone, turning an icy, moonlight pale. Dark, elegant purple veins crackled across my neck and arms like delicate lightning strikes. My pupils dilated, transforming into twin, burning orbs of terrifying, glowing crimson.

The surrounding zombies—about seven of them crowding into my hallway—instantly stopped growling. They froze, lowered their heads, and backed away from me in absolute, instinctive terror, cowering against the drywall like beaten stray dogs.

I raised my right hand. The nails elongated into four-inch, razor-sharp obsidian talons that glinted wickedly in the dim light.

Ethan fell backward over a kitchen stool, hitting the tile floor with a heavy THUD. "WHAT ARE YOU?! WHAT IS THAT?!"

Sera let out a high-pitched, pathetic squeak, curling into a ball behind the trash can. "MONSTER! ETHAN, IT'S A MONSTER! PUNCH IT!"

"WITH WHAT, SERA?! MY HANDS?!" Ethan shrieked, scrambling backward on his hands and knees until he hit the balcony doors.

I took a slow, deliberate step toward them, my obsidian talons clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. The crimson glow from my eyes cast terrifying red shadows across the kitchen walls.

"You know," I said, my voice echoing with a low, double-layered harmonic frequency that vibrated straight through the floorboards. "You two really have terrible timing. I had a whole speech prepared about betrayal, but honestly? Looking at you right now, it’s just hilarious."

I willed the transformation to reverse.

Shift: Human Form.

In a fraction of a second, the crimson light in my eyes vanished. My dark veins faded into smooth, healthy skin. My obsidian talons retracted back into neatly manicured fingernails. The room’s temperature normalized, and my warm, human breath bloomed softly in the air.

I adjusted the collar of my jacket, smoothed down my hair, and picked up my heavy iron crowbar from the floor, resting it comfortably over my shoulder.

I looked down at the two of them Ethan hyperventilating on the floor, and Sera weeping silently into a bag of organic potato chips she had knocked off the counter.

"Interesting," I said softly, giving them a cold, brilliant, terrifying smile. "The two traitors have absolutely no idea what they just created."

I raised the crowbar, pointed it at the balcony door, and tilted my head.

"Now then," I purred. "Who wants to talk about who sleeps on the rug?"