Nelson had always been a simple man. Wake up, grab a quick bite, head out to work—life as a reporter had its routine. Coffee, deadlines, selling stories—rinse and repeat. But today, the air felt different, heavy with the weight of something unspoken. A gnawing feeling in his gut, a dizziness that crept in, and sores that seemed to sprout from nowhere. But he shook it off, his drive for the story far outweighing his discomfort.

  It had taken all his willpower to drag himself out of bed this morning, to swallow his pride and the queasy feeling swirling in his stomach. Today could be the breakthrough story of a lifetime. A story that would unch his career from the depths of obscurity to the top of every news outlet. Nelson had caught wind of a high-stakes secret buried deep inside the CDC—something about a weaponized virus, extracted from an asteroid. He couldn’t believe it when he first heard it, but every whisper pointed to one undeniable truth: this was the story he was meant to uncover.

  With a sense of feverish anticipation, Nelson stood in front of the towering CDC building, the sharp outlines of its gss walls reflecting a bright, cold light. His pulse thudded in his ears as he prepared to step into the unknown. He had been here once before—briefly, a long time ago—but this time was different. His heart raced with excitement and dread, the tter barely registering as he pushed through the entrance.

  The lobby was bustling, but it felt oddly...off. The air, thick and sterile, seemed to pulse with tension. It was the kind of unease you’d expect when you knew something catastrophic had already begun and no one was willing to speak about it.

  Nelson approached the desk. "I’m here for the statement on the asteroid virus," he said, his voice barely steady. The receptionist looked up, then gnced around nervously before speaking in a voice so quiet, it was almost a whisper.

  "I’m afraid you’ll have to speak with someone higher up." She quickly directed him to the elevator, her eyes lingering on his flushed face, before turning away, as though afraid of what she might be seeing.

  As the elevator doors slid shut, Nelson felt his body become heavier, his limbs moving like lead. The sickly sensation inside him had worsened. He wiped his brow, his hand trembling. Was it nerves? Or something else?

  When the elevator doors opened to the top floor, the sight before him was chilling. Armed guards stood at attention, and behind them, there was an air of controlled chaos—staff running back and forth, eyes wide with panic. He barely had time to register the strange atmosphere before a shout broke through the noise.

  “Containment breach!” A man in a b coat screamed, stumbling backward. His face was pale, his eyes wide with terror.

  A split second ter, Nelson felt a tickle in his throat—an urge to cough. But when he did, his vision blurred. His throat felt raw, and something thick and metallic poured from his mouth—blood.

  His hand shot up to his mouth, feeling the hot wetness, and he looked at the crimson stain in horror. His head spun as a chill ripped through his body. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision narrowing to a tunnel. He tried to steady himself against the wall, but his body felt like it was betraying him.

  "What's happening to me?" he whispered hoarsely, his own voice sounding foreign.

  Then, the screams started. From every direction, chaos erupted. People in b coats began to convulse, their skin turning an unnatural shade of grey. The familiar buzzing of fluorescent lights seemed to grow louder, more insistent, as if mocking his inability to comprehend the horror unfolding.

  “Nelson?” A voice called out to him—faint, distant—but when he turned, he could only see the blur of a figure. The next moment, his vision cleared enough to reveal a colleague, blood dripping from his mouth, eyes gzed over, and something dark and predatory in his gaze.

  Without warning, the man lunged toward him, mouth open, teeth bared like a rabid animal. Nelson stumbled backward, his own limbs sluggish and uncooperative as his body betrayed him, his muscles seizing. The colleague's hands gripped his shoulders, and for a split second, Nelson could hear his frantic breathing as the man leaned in—until a strangled scream filled the air.

  Nelson's skin crawled, his blood running cold, as the figure before him colpsed—dead, or worse. A strange, grotesque tremor swept over the man’s body as he began to twitch uncontrolbly, his skin rapidly decaying into something unrecognizable.

  And then, it was as if a switch had been flipped.

  Nelson’s stomach churned, his vision fshing in and out. His mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood once again, and he felt the heat of fever surge through him. Something deep inside him snapped. His hands cwed at his chest, his skin burning, his blood turning to ice as his body began to change. Something inside of him was awakening—something far darker than he could ever have imagined.

  The st thing he saw, before the world around him turned into a swirling, chaotic nightmare of flesh, blood, and terror, was the reality of what had just escaped the facility. He wasn't just witnessing a breach in containment. He was now part of it.

  It had all started with an asteroid—a weaponized virus extracted from the void of space—but the true horror was yet to be revealed.

  And now, Nelson was the story.