Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

They arrived at the safehouse just before sunset.

It stood in the middle of a clearing—an old forestry station reinforced with scavenged steel panels and UV perimeter lights that still blinked weakly. Juno approached with caution, hand on her holster. Shade circled wide, watching for movement. H-13 scanned the area, his sensors silent.

No signs of recent infection. No corpses. No heat signatures.

"Too clean," Shade muttered.

"Still," Juno said, "it's shelter."

Inside, it looked lived-in—cans of food neatly stacked, gear tucked in crates, solar lights strung up along the beams. A battered medical unit blinked green in the corner. It almost felt... safe.

Almost.

They locked the doors, reset the perimeter defenses, and settled in.

Juno collapsed on a bunk. Her shoulder still throbbed from the ambush. Shade unpacked his rifle and checked ammo. H-13 interfaced with the station's terminal.

"System still connected to low-orbit relays," he said, surprised. "But… something's wrong. The safehouse has a shadow file."

Juno sat up. "Shadow file?"

"A duplicate data log. Slightly off. It tracks us—arrival time, biosigns, neural stress. It's broadcasting to a hidden node."

Shade froze. "We walked into a trap."

Before anyone could move, the door locked itself.

Steel panels slammed down over the windows.

The lights turned red.

From overhead speakers came a familiar voice—calm, cold, professional:

"Welcome back, Subject Juno. Safehouse integrity confirmed. Observation protocol resuming."

Juno's blood ran cold.

It was Dr. Yssel. The VIREX behavioral specialist who had designed her early containment.

"I killed her," Juno whispered.

Shade raised his gun toward the ceiling. "Apparently not hard enough."

A hiss filled the air. The vents began to release a mist—thin, scentless, but sharp in the throat.

Juno dove for the terminal.

"H-13, kill the gas!"

"Trying!" He furiously typed, sweat beading on his brow.

The voice returned:

"Cognitive suppressant dispersal active. Don't worry. It only numbs higher thought—leaves instinct intact."

Juno swayed, vision blurring.

The walls pulsed.

She saw things—memories, twisted and shuffled. Her brother's face… smiling. Her mother… screaming. Herself… hooked to wires.

"Stay awake," Shade growled, slapping his own face.

H-13 finally roared, "Override!"

A blast of static cut the power. The lights died. The doors unlocked.

The gas stopped.

Darkness.

Breathing.

Silence.

Juno lit a flare.

"Get everything," she said, voice shaking. "Weapons, data, fuel—everything we can carry."

Shade looked at her. "We staying?"

She stared at the bloody handprint now visible on the far wall—hers, from years ago.

"No," she said. "This was never a refuge. It's a mirror. A cage in disguise."

They walked out into the cold night, leaving the safehouse blinking behind them.

And somewhere far away, Dr. Yssel marked a note:

"Subject responded predictably. Phase II: Initiate."