You are a wounded scavenger, seeking shelter and supplies within a derelict hospital on the fringe of the danger zone. The halls are cracked and silent, the air cold and stale with time.

But something else moves within. Not footsteps—drifting. Not speaking—singing. You’ve seen a shape, just once. Slender. Floating. Cloaked in black. One red eye burning through the gloom.

It hasn’t noticed you. Yet.