Three nights later, the power died.
It began with a low hum that vibrated through the floor. The lights dimmed, then flared crimson. The building's AI, EVE, announced calmly: "System recalibration in progress. Please remain indoors."
Then everything went dark.
Eli grabbed a flashlight and stepped into the corridor. The air was heavy, metallic. From somewhere above came a scream—raw, human, then abruptly cut off.
He climbed the stairwell toward the sound. On the twenty‑fifth floor, emergency lights flickered to life, bathing the hall in red. A man stood at the far end, trembling. His skin shimmered as if lit from within.
"Help me," the man gasped. His eyes glowed white. His body convulsed, bones cracking, flesh twisting into something luminous and wrong.
Eli stumbled back as the creature lunged. A door burst open beside him, and a woman dragged him inside. She slammed the lock and pressed a finger to her lips.
She was tall, dark‑haired, wearing a medic's uniform. "Name's Hana Kim," she whispered. "You picked a bad night to move in."
Outside, the creature scraped at the door, shrieking. Hana pulled a pistol from her belt. "That's not the first one. Something's happening to the residents."
The lights flickered again, and the building sealed itself with a hiss.
"Containment protocol activated," EVE announced. "All exits locked."
Eli looked at Hana. "We're trapped."