Chapter 2 Voices Below

Jack descended through the access tunnel, flashlight sweeping over peeling paint and bloodstains fossilized in time.

He reached the main junction. The power was flickering - somehow still alive.

A voice crackled through the intercom system: "Unit 7, report."

Jack froze.

That voice.

It was Clay's. But Clay had died here - gutted and strung up like meat in the reactor room.

He pulled his sidearm.

The hall behind him was empty.

He moved forward, deeper into the complex. The air smelled of metal and rot.

He passed the decontamination chamber, now shattered. Something had escaped.

Footsteps echoed behind him - bare, wet.

He turned fast.

No one.

Then a whisper in his ear: "Jack..."

He spun again.

Only darkness.

The reactor room hadn't changed.

Massive turbines stood dead and cold. In the center, the reactor pit gaped like a wound, ringed with red warning lights.

Jack descended the catwalks, rifle up. His boots echoed off the steel.

And then he saw them - bones. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Picked clean.

He reached the platform overlooking the core.

Something pulsed below - a dark mass, shifting like smoke and skin. Faces floated through it - familiar ones.

Clay. Hawkins. Even his own.

A high-frequency hum buzzed in his teeth.

He whispered, "Jesus..."

Then it looked up at him.

It had his eyes.

The reactor room hadn't changed.

Massive turbines stood dead and cold. In the center, the reactor pit gaped like a wound, ringed with red warning lights.

Jack descended the catwalks, rifle up. His boots echoed off the steel.

And then he saw them - bones. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Picked clean.

He reached the platform overlooking the core.

Something pulsed below - a dark mass, shifting like smoke and skin. Faces floated through it - familiar ones.

Clay. Hawkins. Even his own.

A high-frequency hum buzzed in his teeth.

He whispered, "Jesus..."

Then it looked up at him.

It had his eyes.

And somewhere, faintly, the sound of breathing