Ethan's hands shook as he wiped the velociraptor's blood onto his jeans, the tire iron still clenched in his fist. The garage was a tomb—Jimmy's body sprawled in a pool of red, the radio silent, the fluorescent lights flickering like they were on their last breath. His ears rang from the creature's dying screech, but beyond that, the sounds of the city filtered in: screams, crashes, and something deeper, a guttural roar that made the hairs on his neck stand up.
He stumbled to his feet, legs unsteady, and glanced at the dead raptor. It looked real—too real—feathers matted with blood, claws curved like scythes. This wasn't some movie prop. And that voice in his head, cold and flat like a machine—he couldn't shake it. It had said something about strength and tracking after he'd killed the thing. He flexed his arm, feeling the subtle shift in his muscles, a power that wasn't there ten minutes ago. It didn't make sense, but neither did a dinosaur ripping through a Chicago garage.
"What the hell is happening?" he muttered, voice hoarse. He needed answers, but first, he needed to move. Jimmy was gone, and staying here was a death sentence if more of those things were out there.
He grabbed his jacket from the workbench, shoving a screwdriver into the pocket—just in case. His phone was dead, screen black no matter how many times he mashed the power button. The landline on the wall buzzed with static when he lifted it. Whatever had brought that raptor here had killed everything he'd taken for granted—cars, phones, lights. The world was unraveling, and he was stuck in the middle of it.
Then he thought of Mia.
His little sister was across town at her college dorm, probably cramming for midterms or laughing with her roommate over some dumb TikTok. She was nineteen, too stubborn to call him unless she needed a ride or money for takeout. If this chaos was everywhere, she was trapped—and alone. Ethan's chest tightened. He had to get to her.
He stepped over Jimmy's body, avoiding the blank stare, and peeked through the shattered garage door. The street outside was a warzone. A car sat crumpled like a tin can, its driver nowhere in sight. A woman ran past, barefoot and screaming, clutching a toddler to her chest. Something massive slithered in the shadows of an alley—scales glinting under a dying streetlight. Ethan's stomach churned, but that strange pulse in his chest kicked in again, tied to whatever had changed in him. He could smell it: damp earth, musk, a hint of rot. A snake, bigger than anything natural.
He ducked back inside, heart pounding. No way he could cross the city unarmed, not with that thing out there. He scanned the garage for anything useful. The tire iron had worked once, but he needed more. His eyes landed on a rack of tools: a crowbar, a hammer, a coil of rope. He grabbed the crowbar—heavier, sturdier—and slung the rope over his shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
As he moved, that mechanical voice chimed again:
[Objective assigned: Reach Mia Carver]
[Rewards Gained: +1 Agility upon completion]
Ethan froze, breath catching. It knew her name. Whatever this thing in his head was, it wasn't random—it was watching him, guiding him. He didn't know whether to be grateful or terrified, but right now, it didn't matter. If it got him to Mia, he'd play along.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the night. The air was thick with smoke and the coppery tang of blood. Down the block, a pack of what looked like wolves—bigger, meaner, with teeth like daggers—tore into a delivery truck. Ethan crouched behind a dumpster, gripping the crowbar. That pulse flared again, sharper now, mapping their scents: wet fur, raw meat, aggression. They hadn't noticed him yet.
He edged along the wall, sticking to the shadows. The college was five miles east, through streets he knew like the back of his hand from years of driving tow trucks. But those streets weren't his anymore—they belonged to the monsters now. He'd have to cut through alleys, avoid the main roads. If he was lucky, he'd make it by dawn.
A scream cut through the air, closer this time. Ethan peeked around the corner. A man in a torn suit staggered out of a bodega, a giant lizard—some kind of iguana on steroids—clinging to his back, claws digging into his shoulders. The man swung a baseball bat wildly, but the lizard's tail whipped around, knocking him to the ground. It opened its jaws, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.
Ethan's grip tightened on the crowbar. Every instinct told him to run, to keep moving toward Mia. But the man's eyes locked on his, wide with terror, pleading. Ethan cursed under his breath. He couldn't just watch.
He charged, swinging the crowbar with everything he had. It cracked against the lizard's skull, sending it tumbling off the man. The creature hissed, tail lashing, and lunged at Ethan. He dodged, feeling that new strength surge through him, and brought the crowbar down again—harder. Bone crunched, and the lizard went still.
The voice returned:
[Monster slain: Enhanced Komodo]
[Attributes Gained: +1 Endurance]
[Skills Gained: Basic Tracking → Enhanced Tracking]
A rush of stamina flooded Ethan's body, washing away some of the ache in his muscles. He could feel the shift in his senses too—sharper, clearer. The wolves' scents were stronger now, their movements almost visible in his mind.
The man scrambled to his feet, panting. "Thanks, man—I thought I was done. What the hell are these things?"
"No idea," Ethan said, wiping sweat from his brow. "But they're everywhere. You got somewhere safe?"
The man shook his head, clutching the bat. "Office locked down, but my car's dead. Everything's dead."
"Stick to the shadows," Ethan said. "Find a group if you can. I've got to go."
He didn't wait for a reply. Mia was out there, and every second counted. As he slipped back into the alley, the city roared around him—monsters and humans locked in a desperate dance. Whatever had unleashed this nightmare, it wasn't letting up. But Ethan had something they didn't: a voice in his head, a strength growing with every kill. He'd use it to find her, no matter what it took.