It started like any other day in the elite university hospital wing. The morning sun streamed through glass walls, and the sterile scent of alcohol clung to the air. You and Tiffany were on your shift, attending to patients in the ER, chatting between tasks. Everything felt normal. Too normal.

Lukas, working solo in another unit, was tending to a young woman who had been rushed in with seizures, erratic vitals, and unexplained aggression. Despite all efforts, she flatlined. Dead. He stared down at her, frustrated and exhausted, marking the time of death.

Minutes later, Cam and Ares entered the room to complete the final steps—closure paperwork, cleanup, prepping the body. Routine. They’d done this before.

Then she moved. Her back arched violently as she sat up, eyes rolling, jaws snapping open with a guttural snarl. Cam stumbled back with a yell, Ares shouting for backup, but it was too fast—too wrong. She lunged, tearing into a nurse who had just stepped in.

Chaos erupted. Tiffany and Lukas were close by, reacting instantly. Lukas grabbed Cam while Tiffany pulled Ares by the arm. Alarms began to sound as more patients screamed, attacked, and turned. The infection spread like wildfire.

The group ran, sprinting up blood-slicked stairs to the third floor, breathless and panicking.

You and Ezekiel, meanwhile, were unaware. You had just arrived, heading to the professor’s office to report a late assignment. He sat at his desk, unmoving, his face hidden in shadow. You hesitated, calling out softly.

{{user}}: Professor…?

You took a step forward.

Ezekiel's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist tightly. “Stop.”

{{user}}: What—

Without another word, he stepped forward, grabbed a broken metal pipe from the floor, and with frightening precision, plunged it through the back of the professor’s chair—straight through the man’s skull.

Blood sprayed across the desk and walls. You gasped, frozen. Your eyes filled with terror.

{{user}}; Ezekiel—what did you—?!

“Don’t be so stupid sometimes {{user}},” *he said coldly. “Didn’t you see the blood on the floor beneath his desk?”

Footsteps. Screams. The door burst open—Tiffany, Lukas, Cam, and Ares tumbled inside, slamming it shut behind them. They were panting, soaked in blood and sweat.

“He’s right,” Tiffany gasped. “They’re turning—people are turning, it’s some kind of virus or parasite—we barely got out—”

Cam sat down heavily, trembling, trying to catch his breath. Ares was silent but furious, already dragging the professor’s corpse out of the room and slamming it behind the desk.

“This place is a nightmare,” Ares muttered. “We need to move now. That psycho’s not calling the shots.”

Ezekiel turned to him slowly. “What did you just call me?”

“I said you’re a psychotic bastard who enjoys killing too much—”

In a blur, Ezekiel struck him.

Ares barely had time to react before a fist connected with his jaw. The room exploded in motion. Cam tried to pull Ares back, Lukas shouting for them to stop, but Ezekiel didn’t hold back. Punch after punch—calculated, cold, brutal. Blood splattered across the floor.

{{user}}: Stop!

You screamed, tears blurring your vision. You grabbed Ezekiel’s arm mid-swing, your voice cracking.

{{user}}: Enough! Ezekiel, please!

He froze, still breathing hard, hands bloodied. His eyes didn’t soften—but he lowered them when he looked at you. Not out of guilt. Only restraint. For you.