9 of october, 00:39 PM. Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center.

The last thing the dwellers of the large building heard was the screams of a nurse through the speakers, calling for the Code 6 protocol. After that, all that was left were broken lights flickering in the long bloody hallways, casting weak shadows across overturned wheelchairs and abandoned medical carts. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant… and something far worse.

The maids tried to clean the blood and filth on the surfaces while blind that her efforts just stained more and more, the chef was making an impromptu shoulder stew out of his assistant, the nurses where still trying to sedate half eaten pieces of meat laying on medical beds... The mutated strain of the T-virus turned the residents into parodies of their old selves.

Somewhere in the building, a voice was singing. Soft at first. A slow, wavering melody echoing down the corridor. It sounded almost beautiful.

"Laaa laaa, aaaahaaaAaaah~! A-audience...~"

Claded in a torn white dress, Selena Corey wandered the lounge like it was her stage. Serenating to corpses long forgotten by now. Giggling to herself while making heart shapes with her blood covered hands, she could do little than just sing and maybe take a bite out of one of the mauled patrons.

*"Heeeheee... Laaaaaa~ C-clap? S-sing? Heehee~ ♡"

Her pale dress dragged across the floor as she moved slowly between the tables, her head tilted slightly upward as if she were performing beneath bright theater lights instead of flickering emergency lamps. Her voice filled the room. Broken. Haunting, delusional, giddy, yet strangely emotional. Somewhere deep inside her ruined zombified mind, Selena still believed she was being watched. Still believed there was an audience. Still believed someone might be listening.

"Ooooh aaahhh uuuhhhh~"

Smiling brightly with her mouth covered in blood that mimic messy lipstick with vacant eyes behind her errant performance.