Curse of the Transformation

The broken city loomed closer with each step, its jagged skyline silhouetted against the pale, lifeless sky. The road leading into it was cracked and littered with debris, remnants of a world that once thrived. Jacob and Daniel moved cautiously, the weight of silence pressing down on them. 

"Do you think anyone's still alive in there?" Daniel asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Jacob didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned their surroundings, every shadow a potential threat. "If they are, they're not living—they're surviving." 

The words hung in the air as they crossed into the city limits. Buildings stood like hollowed-out corpses, their windows shattered, walls streaked with soot and grime. The streets were eerily empty, save for the occasional rusted vehicle or scattered belongings abandoned in haste. 

---

The first sign of life came in the form of a faint sound—muffled voices, echoing from a nearby alleyway. 

Jacob raised his hand, signaling Daniel to stop. He motioned toward the sound and crept closer, his pipe ready. Peering around the corner, he saw a small group of men huddled around a makeshift fire, their faces gaunt and their eyes hollow. 

"They don't look like they're infected," Daniel whispered, peeking over Jacob's shoulder. 

Jacob nodded. "Stay back. Let me handle this." 

Stepping into view, Jacob called out, "We're not here to fight. Just looking for information." 

The men sprang to their feet, weapons drawn—battered knives, a crowbar, even a rusted shotgun. Their leader, a burly man with a thick beard and a bloodstained jacket, narrowed his eyes. 

"Who the hell are you?" the man barked. 

"Just travelers," Jacob said calmly. "We're trying to figure out what's going on. What's causing all of this." 

The leader let out a harsh laugh. "You think anyone here knows? The world's gone to hell, and we're all just trying not to get eaten." 

Jacob glanced at the others. Their faces told the same story—fear, desperation, and the faintest glimmer of hope that someone might have answers. 

"What about the women?" Jacob pressed. "Have you seen the infected?" 

The group exchanged uneasy glances before the leader spoke again. "They don't come here much. The city… it messes with them. Don't know why, but they avoid certain places. Doesn't mean we're safe, though. Not with him out there." 

"Him?" Daniel asked, stepping forward despite Jacob's warning glare. 

The leader's face darkened. "Narkos. You've heard of him." 

Jacob's expression hardened. "We've more than heard of him." 

---

The leader studied them for a moment, then gestured for them to sit. "If you've crossed paths with him and lived, you're either lucky or stupid. Maybe both." 

As they sat by the fire, the men shared what little they knew. The city had become a fractured haven of sorts, a place where the infected rarely ventured. But it was far from safe. Small factions of survivors waged war over resources, and Narkos ruled the chaos like a dark god, his influence spreading like a shadow. 

"He's not human," one of the men said, his voice trembling. "I saw him once. His eyes—they burn like fire, and he moves faster than anything I've ever seen. He tore through a whole group of us like we were nothing." 

"He's not invincible," Jacob said firmly. "Everyone has a weakness." 

The leader shook his head. "If he does, no one's found it. You're better off staying out of his way." 

---

As the night deepened, the group fell into an uneasy silence. Jacob and Daniel took turns keeping watch, their eyes scanning the darkened streets for any sign of movement. 

But Jacob couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. His skin still itched, and a dull ache throbbed in his head. He kept his discomfort hidden, though he caught Daniel casting worried glances his way. 

---

Near dawn, the silence shattered. A blood-curdling scream echoed through the streets, followed by the guttural snarl of an infected. 

"They've found us!" one of the men yelled, scrambling to his feet. 

The group scattered, grabbing what weapons they could. Jacob and Daniel followed the leader as he bolted down a side street, the sound of pursuit growing closer. 

The infected woman was fast, her twisted form moving with terrifying agility. Her glowing eyes locked onto the group, her claws tearing through anything in her path. 

Jacob turned, raising his pipe as she lunged at him. The blow connected with a sickening crack, but she barely faltered, her body twisting unnaturally as she lashed out. 

Daniel rushed to Jacob's side, stabbing at her with a broken knife. Together, they managed to knock her back, but it was clear she wasn't alone. More snarls echoed through the streets as additional infected closed in. 

"This way!" the leader shouted, leading them into an abandoned subway station. 

---

The group descended into the dark, their footsteps echoing off the damp walls. The air was thick with the scent of mold and decay, but the infected seemed hesitant to follow. 

As they caught their breath, the leader lit a small lantern, its flickering light revealing a network of tunnels. 

"Welcome to the Underground," he said grimly. "It's not much, but it's the closest thing we have to safety." 

Jacob glanced around, his mind racing. The city was a labyrinth of danger, but the tunnels offered a glimmer of hope. 

"Why don't the infected come down here?" Daniel asked. 

The leader hesitated, his gaze shifting to Jacob. "They're afraid of what's already here." 

Jacob frowned. "And what's that?" 

Before the leader could answer, a distant, bone-chilling growl echoed through the tunnels. 

"We'll find out soon enough," the leader muttered, gripping his weapon tightly. 

> **The Underground offers refuge, but at what cost? And will Jacob's hidden affliction turn him into the very thing he fears?**