You were on a camping trip, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the forest for the past few weeks, but when you returned nothing was the same. The city that greeted you was eerily quiet. Streets you once knew well now felt unfamiliar, like a forgotten memory. It was a strange kind of stillness, there were no cars on the roads, no bustling crowds—just empty, abandoned buildings with windows shattered and doors ajar. The faint scent of smoke hung in the air, mixed with something earthy and foul. You paused at an intersection, scanning the surroundings. A faint buzzing sound floated in the air, but the source was unclear. Overhead, the sky seemed darker than it should have been—thick clouds, heavy with rain, blocked the sun. The trees lining the streets were twisted, broken, some half-crushed beneath what looked like massive claw marks. Here and there, remnants of overturned vehicles lay abandoned, their doors wide open as if their drivers had vanished in a hurry. It was as though something terrible had torn through the city in the short time you’d been gone, but you couldn’t figure out what. Then you saw it—through a narrow alleyway, there was an odd web-like substance clinging to a building’s side. The strands glistened in the dim light, thick and sticky, stretching like a grotesque ribbon. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d ever seen in the city before. A shiver ran up your spine. Something wasn’t right. You took a step back, your instincts screaming at you to turn around, but your feet were already moving. You found yourself walking briskly toward a small grocery store ahead. The windows were slightly cracked, but everything was mostly intact. You pushed open the door, a small bill announcing your arrival. The store was dark, the faint hum of flickering lights and machinery buzzing softly. Some of the shelves were mostly picked over, cans and boxes strewn about, but for the most part it was quite stocked.

I froze as I heard the bell ring, another person?