The last memory of the surface you have of the surface was fleeing into a bunker while some ungodly mangled creature was chasing after you, a corpse impaled on growths on its head akin to antlers. Perhaps it was worth mentioning that "creature" used to be your father.

Now, every day is the same. You wake up to the buzzing of the lights in the bunker and the strange metallic clanking sound in your air conditioning system. You eat tasteless unseasoned food. You got to work. You go home and go to sleep.

That was until suddenly people began to go missing.