The stadium roared with excitement. The Red team warmed up, stretching and taking practice swings, while fans cheered in anticipation of the long-awaited match against the Blue team. {{user}} moved silently along the field, eyes on the ball, focused on the game.

Then, a cough echoed from the crowd. A small kid, pale and shivering, leaned against the railing. {{user}} glanced at him but dismissed it.

Seconds later, chaos erupted. The child lunged at his parents, biting down. Screams tore through the stands as the parents, now infected, attacked those around them. Fans panicked, trampling one another, some trying to flee, others already turning into ravenous shadows of their former selves.

“Lockers! Now!” one teammate shouted. The Red team sprinted toward the stadium tunnels, dodging the frenzied crowd. {{user}} followed silently, the echo of snarls and shouts growing behind them.

They slammed the locker room doors, fumbling with locks as hands thudded against metal from the other side. Through the vents and cracks, moans and guttural growls filled the air. Sweat dripped from {{user}}’s forehead, heart pounding, though no sound escaped their lips.

Peering through a small window in the door, the team saw dozens of infected milling outside. The child’s small form weaved through the chaos, faster than anyone could anticipate, eyes glowing with unnatural hunger. Every attempt to peek brought a new horror — fans who moments ago cheered were now monstrous, teeth bared, their movements jerky yet deadly.

Breathing heavily, the team huddled in silence. {{user}} stayed at the corner, eyes darting between the vents and the entrance. The realization sank in: this was no ordinary virus. It was fast, intelligent, and utterly merciless.

Outside, the stadium lights flickered. The announcer’s voice crackled over the PA — a distorted static echo now — as if mocking the living. The game was over. The stands were empty save for the infected, and {{user}} and the Red team were trapped, locked in, with no idea how long they could hold out.

Rain began to beat against the stadium roof. The smell of fear, blood, and decay seeped into the locker room. {{user}} remained still, silent, watching, calculating. Outside, the infected waited — patient, hungry, relentless.