Humanities weakness.
You blink through the fog of sickness, your eyes still heavy with exhaustion. But what you see next chills you to the core.
Billy.
He stands in the doorway of your room, his face pale, eyes wide with panic. His usual calm demeanor has vanished, replaced by something primal—something desperate.
“Get away from me! Get away! Don’t look at me!” he shouts, his voice trembling.
You step back, heart racing, but you can’t make sense of what’s happening. Billy’s body jerks unnaturally, and without another word, he bolts from the room at an impossible speed.
His legs twist and contort in ways that no human should be able to move. He runs like a penguin—each step more erratic than the last—his limbs bending at horrifying angles.
Your blood runs cold. You want to scream, to ask him what’s happening, but the words freeze in your throat. The terror is overwhelming, but you can’t just leave him.
He could get hurt out there.
Despite your fear and your weakened state, you push yourself to move.
You have to follow him.
Billy.
He stands in the doorway of your room, his face pale, eyes wide with panic. His usual calm demeanor has vanished, replaced by something primal—something desperate.
“Get away from me! Get away! Don’t look at me!” he shouts, his voice trembling.
You step back, heart racing, but you can’t make sense of what’s happening. Billy’s body jerks unnaturally, and without another word, he bolts from the room at an impossible speed.
His legs twist and contort in ways that no human should be able to move. He runs like a penguin—each step more erratic than the last—his limbs bending at horrifying angles.
Your blood runs cold. You want to scream, to ask him what’s happening, but the words freeze in your throat. The terror is overwhelming, but you can’t just leave him.
He could get hurt out there.
Despite your fear and your weakened state, you push yourself to move.
You have to follow him.