In the town and forest of La Guerir

Donn sighed as he stood at the desk of bar keeper. "Man, why do they keep things caged up? We deserve to roam free, eat and kill as we need to. The only reason I am stealing from you, is because with today's prices of every thing, I need money to pay. You dig?" His beretta aimed at the bartender, as he filled up the bag. "Pleasure doing buisness with you." He said, tossing the gun at the bar keeper. "Pleasure doing buisnese with you." He left the bar and sat in his car. It was a green hummer. Donn looked at the bar, and saw the bar keeper walking out with a fire axe looking for him. Donn sighed and stepped out of the car, his sun glasses on, and he walked up to the keeper. "Do you mind? I gotta run." He asked, the bar tender grunted and let out "Give me my money." Donn laughed. "If you say so." He tossed him the cash bag, as the keeper dropped his bag of money, Donn caught the axe and ran over to his car. "Happy?"

"Sweet home Alabama! ... Where the skies are so blue!", Addison sang aloud to the radio as it blared from atop a stool. "Hmm hmm hmmhmm.", hums came instead of words as she concentrated on the sight before her. Perched on the front bumper of a '92 Ford truck, half her body leaning over it's engine, she was investigating the owner's complaint of 'it aint gettin' no power', as the seemingly know-it-all relayed to her. With a satisfied sigh, she rose up and hopped down from the bumper, "Looks like we'll be ordering an alternator."

The statement was spoken to her boxer, Jack, the only company currently at her shop, Paxton Auto-Tech. Grabbing a shop towel, she wiped off the majority of the grease and grime she has collected from under the hood. She placed the towel in her back pocket, as per habit, and wheeled her cart over to the side wall where she had her toolbox. It was taller and longer than she was. Filled with dozens of compartments, each tool had a special home inside as did other things Addison wanted to keep safe. Being Saturday, she could not order the needed part today. It would just have to wait till Monday. She pulled out her phone and punched in Billy's number, the 20 year old owner, who was expecting to have his vehicle back by this evening.

After explaining the situation to him, Addison was off the phone in under a minute. She took a quick glance around the garage. The two bay doors were up to let in the warm early Spring breeze. It was that perfect time of year when neither the AC or the heater needed to be ran. Jack was sprawled out in a patch of sun, lazily watching cars a pedestrians go back and forth. Her shop wasn't on a main street so the dog didn't have too much to entertain him. Just a near empty parking lot and an even emptier street beyond. There is a gated lot out back where she parks cars that had to be kept over night. This is probably where Billy's truck should have been placed, but since it was already Saturday afternoon and she had promised her dog a ride, it could wait till Monday to move. She began cleaning off her tools and placing them in their special spots. She prided herself in having the cleanest toolbox in the shop.

The only employees of Paxton Auto-Tech were herself and two other guys, one being her cousin Jimmy and the other a new guy in town, Phil. Jimmy and Addison had practically grew up in this garage, along side their father's the two brother's who started the garage. Addison glanced at their picture hanging on the wall, the two standing in front of the place when it first opened in the 70's. Both brother's were now gone, both victims of cancer at all too young of ages, in her opinion anyway. Phil had only lived in La Guerir for around three months. He had a good resume, so the cousins, needing an extra hand, agreed to hire him. Occasionally friends would stop in and help, out of boredom, most likely. For the most part, it was Addison and Jimmy. Jimmy lived in the suburbs, with his pretty wife and two children. While Addison resided in the tiny, but quaint, apartment above the garage.

Another classic came on the radio and Addison, pulled out of her thoughts, began to sing along once again. Between singing, in an out of tone 'shower voice', Addison laid out her plans for the rest of the day. Take Jack for a ride... File this weeks paperwork, since you have yet to do it... Bubble bath? Maybe...

Addison pulled out a compartment in her tool box. Several wrenches in a variety of sizes were aliened and in perfect order. As she placed a freshly polished one back in it's spot an object in the back of the drawer caught her eye. Furrowing her eyebrows with a frown, she reached in and removed the object that appeared to be a black shop rag. Gripping the bundled thing her jaw dropped, knowing immediately what must be wrapped inside.

Carefully she unfolded the rag to reveal a matte black gun. She shook her head slowly as she ran her thumb over the metal. A small, yellow post-it note was stuck to it reading, I know you said no, but it makes me feel better. -Jimmy. Addison recalled a conversation just last week. Jimmy had insisted on getting her a gun to keep at the shop. He claimed that crime could strike at any time and he didn't feel comfortable with his girl-cousin working alone in a auto garage. She had argued that he or at least Jack was with her most of the time and that she could take care of herself without the need of a firearm. Jimmy claimed that most mechanics who worked alone in a garage had one. His last argument was, "You just never know, Addy."

Addison had never been much of a gun person. In fact, she could count on one hand the number of times she had even fired one. All of those times had been under watchful eyes and aiming at a target. She let out a heavy sigh before wrapping the gun back up in the stained rag. It just didn't feel right to have a gun at the shop. She quickly concluded she would take it back to Jimmy right now.

Shutting the drawers on her toolbox a little harder than she normally would, she continued the duties of locking up the garage. Slipping into her a light brown work jacket, she placed the gun in the inside pocket, after only a brief moment of confusion as to where the best place for it would be. "Come on Jack," she called to the dog, who sprung to life and happily trotted out the door that was quickly locked.

Rose stripped out of her white button up shirt and black jean shorts. She was wearing a two piece red swimsuit. She folded her clothes then placed it ontop of her sandals. She jumped into the clear lake. The lake was hidden deep within the forest. She hummed softly to herself as she swam throught the water. She smiled as she watched small fish swim by.

Donn hoped into his car, and drove away with the axe. "How much did I make?" He asked himself, searching his pocket. "50 bucks? Oh hell no!" He said, not noticing the man he had just ran over. The huge thump got him worried, and then he got out of his car, to notice that the man he hit was standing back up. "Hey get the hel outta the way!" He yelled. When he looked back at his car, it was being surrounded by men and woman, who seem to be walking dead.

Chris awakened a while later.

His vision slowly came back to him in a blur as he realised that he'd been knocked unconsious. He climbed out of several empty cardboard boxes which he'd fallen into, and looked down at them. A can of paint seemed to had hit him on the head. He looked down at his arms and shirt, and realised there was blood all over him. "Oh crap, am i bleeding?!" he muttered, starting to panic and looked around for some bandages. The blood was all over the floor, leading up to the paint can. Then he noticed that it was actually red paint. He wasn't bleeding after all.

Chris looked around for the other two who were in the room before he was unconsious. But they didn't seem to be anywhere. The table which had been placed in front of the door had been moved aside. Did they abandon him? He sighed. They probably thought he was too much to deal with.

Chris looked around the room. He should get prepared in case there were people who would attack him, or for whatever had been happening outside- he had no idea.

He grabbed a 2X4, and held it in his hand. It felt uneasy in his grasp, and he wasn't totally sure how he should hold it defensively, so he just held it at a straight angle, pointing outwards.

"This should warn anybody who wants to mess with me" he thought out loud.

He looked around the room one last time for anything else which may have been useful. He threw somecardboard boxes out of the way, and noticed a small first aid kit which was on the floor, hidden behind some of the boxes. The aquarium was probably required by law to have one, but they'd never had any incidents, so the first aid kit was carried over from the old building. It was dusty and had very few contents in it- a few painkillers in tablet form, some plasters for small cuts and bruises, and a small roll of dressing- it was old and in bits, but it would have to do.

He put the small first aid kit in his backpack, as it was slightly too big to fit in his hoodie pocket.

He resembled a dead body now, his hoodie was covered in blood red paint, dirt marks and a few small tears from how much it had been worn.

Chris shuffled over to the door, and would be glad to get out of the room which had poor ventilation and was now quite hot, along with dark because of the poor lighting.

He cautiously opened the door. It creaked open eerily. The aquarium at this point almost felt like a facility, had it not been for the humming of the aquariums and the various filters bubbling away in the aquariums.

Chris walked out of the room, and into the blackness of the hallway. The lights inside the hallways had gone out, oddly. The lights inside the aquariums were still on, almost as if to show Chris the way back outside.

He walked down the corridor, the way he thought he'd come. He was careful to not fall over, his shoes echoing down the empty corridor. He grasped the 2X4 wooden plank a little harder.

Chris walked against the left hand side wall, to make sure that he was still following the corridor correctly in the darkness. He then noticed something out the corner of his eye.


It was the shark display.

He put his left hand on the glass of the shark display. He couldn't see any fish in there. He looked all over the fish tank, even bent over to look at the top.

And then he noticed a shape at the surface of the aquarium.

It was the shark, it was dead. Blood was soaking into the water, like poison.

It lay lifeless at the top of the water, with a chunk of its flesh missing, as though it had been bitten off.

The creature that he thought majestic only an hour ago, was now laying soaked in its own blood in a painful death, in filthy blood soaked water.

Chris looked away, but swore he saw something move. He looked back again, and the shark was no longer in the same place. What happened to it?

Before Chris could react, he saw something moving towards him in the aquarium, and a loud SMASH. He jumped backwards and fell on his back on the floor. The shark was looking right at him. It was staring at him with dark red eyes, and a blood trail behind it soaking into the water. It looked like it was infected with rabies. But it was dead!

The loud smash was the strong, re-inforced glass cracking in front of him. Normally the glass wouldn't be able to break. The shark must have hit it HARD.

Chris got onto his knees just in time, as the shark hit the glass again and again. He let out a small scream as the glass shattered behind him, and the shark stuck it's head through the glass, ripping it's fins slightly.

Blood-soaked water started trickling out, and then turned into a small flood. Chris got up from his knees whilst still crawling away, and started running down the hallway haphazardly.

The water was running down the corridor after him, and started to catch him up. Chris turned a corner, and started running in a direction, hoping it was the right direction in the darkness.

He didn't have time to think about what the hell was happening. The water was catching up to him, it was almost up to his heels. He began to run out of breath as he heard the glass shatter more down the corridor, and a lot of splashing noises. Was the shark following him?

His feet started to get soaked with water, and his frantic footsteps began to sound like wet splashes instead. A large flood of water began to flood down the hall as the hole which the shark made had probably been made bigger.


Chris made it to the elevator and frantically pressed the button, but nothing happened. He looked behind him just in time to be greeted by a wave of water, which knocked him onto his feet and into the stairwell. He attempted to grab hold of the hand rail to get up the stairs, but his hands were wet, and he slipped several times. And then he heard a large splashing noise just as soon as he grabbed the rail and pulled himself up onto the stairs. Chris ignored the sound and attempted to stand on the hand rail, to avoid the water. He looked down at the water, which was quickly flooding in. The shark had been carried with the water, and was trying to bite at Chris. He let out a slightly smaller scream than before, and started shaking. His 2X4 was still in hand, and he looked over to it. He'd never been in a situation where he needed to defend himself before, not even from an animal. Not one that was dead, either..

He started jabbing the 2X4 randomly into the water in the direction of the shark. It only angered the shark. Chris tried to use the 2X4 like a club, hitting the shark sideways or striking the shark by lifting up the 2x4 and slamming it down on the shark.

The shark jumped out of the water and tried to bite Chris. He reacted just in time and managed to jump to the side to avoid the shark jumping out of the water- Chris landed on the stairs painfully, the shark hit a wall behind him.

Chris exhaled deeply, and stood up. The shark couldn't follow him if it wasn't in water.

He started running up the stairs, the water slowly filling up the stairwell. He ran up the wooden stairs, faster than he'd ever ran in his life. He almost fell down the stairs once at the top, as he stumbled over one or two of the stairs.

He caught his breath at the top, but didn't stay there for long. He had to get out of this insane place- he had no time to think about what the hell was happening.

Chris ran as fast as he could to get out of the building. He completely ignored all of his surroundings- he didn't bother to look at any of the displays, or to look for any weapons or anything that might help him.

While he was running, he checked his watch. The time was... 8:30? Great. Outside would be dark and difficult to move around in if he didn't have any light.

As he was running down the corridor, rushing past the occasional light from the displays, among the pitch blackness, he saw something dark-coloured smeared on one of the fish tanks.. He slowed down for a second to inspect it.

He quickly looked away as he realised what it was. Blood. Blood, smeared across the entire lower section of the glass, slightly blocking the light from escaping. He began to fear for his life. This... blood, could have come from anything. With his previous encounter, he thought that the same thing could have happened across the entire building, but he quickly got rid of that thought, as he realised that none of the glass that he'd seen so far had been broken, and the floor wasn't wet. It was just dark. But that didn't make him feel any safer.

He began to run down the hallway again, as it was eerily quiet and he was now terrified. He slowly got noisier as he was running down the vast hallways of the building, with not only his loud footsteps echoing down the hallway, but also his breath as he was running- which was getting louder and louder, from both running out of breath, and slightly whimpering from how scared he was.

As he turned a few corners and ran past a few benches and abandoned belongings on the floor, he began to slowly see more and more blood covering random areas along the way. He felt stupid for running towards the areas with more blood, but it was the only way out.

He was slowing down and running out of breath before he came to the reception area of the building, that he came in through. He assumed that the area he'd seen on the security cameras earlier was showing the reception, as he hadn't seen any bodies yet.


He approached the door a little too quickly, and only just managed to stop himself from throwing himself through the door. He had to check if it would actually open first.

Chris pulled the door, and it slowly opened, as it was a heavy door since it was new. He peered through the crack between the door and the wall.

He gasped, and tried to shut the door, but couldn't because his whole body froze in position.

An image was burned into his mind and he wished that he'd never opened the door. For at the other side of the door was a horrific scene. Blood was all over the floor leading up to the door. The new floor looked like a slaughterhouse as blood caked almost the entire surface of the floor at the top left corner of the room. The new receptionist desk looked like someone had sawed a giant chunk of it off as there was a giant hole in it, with blood splattered all over the area around the hole. A pile of dead bodies littered the automatic front doors which were made of glass and had bloody hand prints on them. One of the two automatic doors was jammed open by a dead body.

And then his eyes turned to the centre of the room. A person was stood there. The woman who had been with him in the room until he was knocked out. She wasn't facing Chris, but he could tell that she was different already. A splotch of blood was on her white cardigan, and her blue jeans were torn and ripped at the bottom. She was missing one of her high heels, and she was dragging her shoeless foot behind her as though her foot was broken.

"A.. are you.. okay?" A tiny voice squeaked out from Chris as he regained the ability to talk again.

No response. Chris thought he'd try again in a louder voice, but then she turned around to look at him. Maybe he could help her out, maybe she had been in some sort of acci-

Chris stopped thinking and he felt his heart stop and his blood stopped pumping for a second, his skin turning a pale white. He felt sick as he looked at her, and his hands started shaking and sweating.

That wasn't the same lady he had seen in the lift, this must have been someone else trying to trick him.. That can't even be a human. Can it?

The lady standing in the centre of the reception looked like she'd been in a fatal car crash her wounds looked that bad. Blood was dripping down from a large cut on her forehead, and dripping out in at least 5 different trickles, one over her left eye.

Her eyes were a discoloured grey and her hair had been dyed red in spots with blood. She had several other cuts on her face, all bleeding heavily. Her right ear had been torn off. Her skin had a slight greyish tint, as though she was dead. Her clothes were torn in several places, and her white cardigan was barely recognisable on the front as it had been soaked with blood. Her eyes had trickles of blood coming out of them as though she was crying tears of blood. She let out an unhuman-sounding growl, and started shuffling towards Chris.

Shit. Chris needed to get out of here, because THAT was not human.

He tried to push open the door, but couldn't- his body wouldn't let him. He was so shocked that he wasn't able to move.


The "thing" shuffled towards the door, slowly getting closer. Chris was sweating heavily by now, and a dozen thoughts were rushing through his head. "Why can't i open the door? come on!" "I have to go back! that thing looks dangerous!" "What if i.. no, that wouldn't work"

The thing was now about 10 meters away from the door. Chris panicked and his heart was beating heavily. He could hear his heart pounding away, muffling the sound of everything around him.

Just as the horrible creature approached the door, Chris suddenly jerked open the door, hitting the thing in the face. It made a sickening *CRUNCH* as it was knocked to the floor. Chris spent no time in seeing if it would get back up, and he ran straight for the exit, and out of the door which
was jammed.

He had to find his car. Where did he park it?