PROJECT# NECRO

THE NEW RULES

The amusement park had turned into chaos in seconds.

One moment, Raeleen had been laughing with Donovan.

The next-the screams had started.

Then-the running.

The pushing, the trampling, the confusion.

She had tried to find her parents, tried to run toward the entrance, toward safety.

But that's when someone grabbed her.

A firm grip around her wrist.

A desperate, pulling force.

Yelling, but not at her-at someone else.

Joe.

She didn't even know his name yet.

Didn't even see his face.

Just felt herself being dragged, yanked through the fleeing crowd.

Raeleen (struggling): "Let me go! I have to find my dad!"

Joe (shouting over the chaos, not realizing): "C'mon, we gotta GO!"

He was holding too tight.

Too strong.

She couldn't break free.

And by the time he realized his mistake-

It was too late.

Joe had been trying to save his niece.

But in the madness, in the fear, in the rushing chaos-

He had grabbed Raeleen instead.

His real niece?

She had been just behind him.

And then, in the blink of an eye-she was gone.

Joe (panicked, whipping around): "KAYLA?!"

His heart stopped.

She was on the ground.

Pinned.

A sickening crunch. A wailing scream.

Then-the sound of flesh tearing.

Joe froze.

His mind shut down.

He had never seen anything like it.

Had never heard someone he loved make a sound like that.

Raeleen (wide-eyed, shaking): "...Oh my God."

Joe's breath hitched. His body locked up.

And for a moment-he nearly ran to her.

Nearly tried to fight through them.

But then-his nephew screamed.

Joe's survival instincts kicked in.

💭 No time. No time. No time.

He turned, gripping Raeleen's arm, grabbing his sobbing nephew, and ran.

They didn't get far.

Just inside the nearest public restroom.

He shoved them inside, locked the stall, and collapsed against the door.

💭 Just breathe. Just breathe.

Outside-the nightmare continued.

Shrieks of agony.

The gurgled moans of the infected.

The heavy, wet sound of something being devoured.

Raeleen curled up in the corner, hands over her ears.

She tried not to listen.

Tried not to cry.

Tried to tell herself this wasn't real.

💭 But it was.

Raeleen's phone was at 32%.

She had sent messages. Called.

Nothing.

No answer from her mom.

No answer from her dad.

But then-

Dad (urgent, over the phone): "Raeleen? Baby, where are you?"

She nearly sobbed in relief.

Raeleen (whispering, shaking): "Daddy! I-I don't know! I-"

She tried to explain. Tried to tell him.

But there was so much noise. So much screaming.

She couldn't focus.

Dad (firm, scared, but trying to sound strong): "Listen to me. You need to stay safe. You hear me?"

Raeleen (desperate): "Daddy, please-where are you?"

Dad: "I'm coming. I'll find you, okay? Just-"

The call cut out.

A long, empty beep.

And then-nothing.

The line had been dead ever since.

The stall was cramped.

Dark.

Smelled like old soap and urine.

Joe's nephew sobbed softly into his jacket, clinging to him.

Raeleen pressed herself against the cold stall wall, staring at the screen of her dead phone.

No escape.

No plan.

No parents.

💭 He said he'd find me.

💭 But what if he never does?

Tears burned at her eyes.

But she didn't cry.

Not yet.

Not while the moaning outside the bathroom still told her that if she wasn't careful-she wouldn't survive to be found.

Meanwhile that night Marco wasn't letting up.

The moment Devin stepped inside the barricade, the questions started.

And they weren't stopping.

Marco (firm, sharp): "How long have you been out there?"

Devin (calm, tired): "A while."

Marco (pressing): "How'd you make it this far?"

Devin (shrugging): "Got lucky."

Marco (eyes narrowing): "What do you want?"

Devin sighed heavily, rubbing his temples.

Devin: "A chair. Maybe a drink. And for you to stop staring at me like I murdered your dog."

💭 That was the wrong answer.

Marco (dangerously low voice): "Try again."

Donovan watched the exchange, arms crossed, pulse rising.

His dad was in full military mode-eyes sharp, posture rigid, words clipped.

💭 He doesn't trust this guy.

And honestly?

Neither did Donovan.

But still-this was getting intense.

Marco's questions came faster.

Devin's answers got shorter.

And Donovan could feel the whole thing spiraling.

Then-

"Daddy, stop."

The voice was small. Sharp.

And it shut Marco up instantly.

Donovan turned his head-

And there she was.

Elona.

Bright-eyed, all stubbornness and crossed arms.

Her hair was messy from sleep, but the fire in her eyes was fully awake.

She had been listening the entire time.

And now, she was done with it.

Elona (firm, hands on her hips): "You're being mean."

Donovan's brain short-circuited.

Marco-the most intense, no-nonsense guy he knew-

Just got called mean.

By his own daughter.

Marco (blinking, caught off guard): "...What?"

Elona huffed dramatically, stepping forward.

Elona (more stern): "You're being loud."

Donovan almost choked.

Marco. Loud?

Marco (still processing): "I-"

Devin, for the first time, smirked.

Devin (grumbling): "See? Told you."

Marco's shoulders relaxed slightly.

Not much. Barely noticeable.

But Donovan caught it.

Elona stepped even closer to Marco, tilting her head.

Elona (matter-of-factly): "Are you always this grumpy?"

Donovan had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Marco, who had been tearing Devin apart just seconds ago, now looked... stuck.

Like he had no idea how to handle this tiny, fearless human.

Finally, he exhaled, running a hand over his face.

Marco (muttering): "Fine. Let's slow it down."

Devin grinned slightly, looking victorious.

Devin (leaning back, finally able to breathe): "Hallelujah."

Marco crossed his arms.

Marco (flatly): "Start talking."

Devin nodded, stretching out his legs.

Devin: "Alright, alright. Here's the deal-I'm not looking to cause problems. I've been surviving out there, just like you."

Marco watched him closely.

Devin leaned forward slightly, tapping his cane against the floor.

Devin: "I get that trust is a luxury these days. But I'm not some i***t running around with a death wish."

Donovan noticed something.

The way Devin's fingers moved over the cane's handle.

Like he was holding something more than just a walking stick.

And then, just as Donovan's curiosity peaked

Devin pulled the handle free.

A hidden blade gleamed in the dim light.

Donovan's stomach dropped.

Donovan (staring, baffled): "...Your cane is a sword?"

Devin (grinning slightly): "Damn right it is."

Elona gasped, eyes going wide.

Marco's expression darkened slightly, taking in the weapon.

But Devin just flipped it back into place, locking it in with a soft click.

Devin (smirking): "Relax, big guy. It's for protection."

Marco didn't relax.

But he didn't draw his gun, either.

Instead-he studied Devin one last time.

Then-he nodded.

It wasn't trust.

Not yet.

But it was a start.

For the first time since arriving, Devin finally sat down.

Not just to rest.

But to talk.

To tell them why he was here.

Marco and Donovan watched him carefully.

Elona leaned forward, eyes wide, curious.

Devin exhaled slowly, running a hand over his rough, bearded face.

Then, he spoke.

Devin (voice low, tired): "I was up here with my wife. My grandsons too."

His fingers tapped against his cane.

A slow, steady beat.

Devin (bitter chuckle): "It was supposed to be a fun weekend. You know how it is-kids want rides, overpriced snacks, some cheesy park photos."

He shook his head, eyes darkening.

Devin (voice hardening): "Then the world went to hell."

The room fell silent.

Elona swallowed, hugging her knees.

Donovan felt his stomach tighten.

He had already guessed that Devin lost people.

But hearing him say it was different.

Devin's jaw tensed.

His eyes stared ahead, but he wasn't really looking at anything in the room.

💭 He was back there. Reliving it.

Devin (low, bitter): "My grandkids... they loved zombies."

His voice turned hollow.

Devin: "Watched every damn movie, played every damn game. Knew every 'rule.'"

A sharp exhale. A rough shake of his head.

Devin: "And what do you think happened when the dead started walking?"

Marco's face darkened.

Donovan already knew the answer, but hearing it still made his gut twist.

Devin let out a humorless laugh.

Devin (mocking, bitter): "They thought it was part of the show."

His hands clenched around his cane.

Devin: "They ran right up to 'em."

Elona's breath hitched.

Elona (whispering, horrified): "No..."

Devin (nodding, voice rough): "Oh, yeah. Thought they were mascots. Thought it was a damn game."

His fingers twitched.

Like he wanted to punch something, break something.

But all he did was sit there, gripping his cane.

Devin inhaled deeply, steadying himself.

Devin: "By the time they realized it wasn't a joke..."

A pause.

Then, softly-a barely whispered truth.

Devin: "...it was too late."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

Devin (gritted teeth, bitter anger beneath the grief): "My wife ran after them. Screaming. I ran after her."

A slow, painful shake of his head.

Devin: "Didn't matter."

His grip tightened on his cane, the leather creaking under the pressure.

Devin (rasping, hollow): "One grabbed my grandson, and then... it was over."

He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to finish the story.

Devin (stiff, voice heavy): "My wife tried to pull him free. One of those things bit her."

His jaw tensed.

His voice dropped to something colder.

Devin: "She turned before I even had a chance to say goodbye."

Silence.

No one spoke.

Because what was there to say?

Nothing could fix that.

Nothing could make it right.

Devin sat quietly for a long moment.

Then, he let out a slow, tired breath.

Devin (soft, unreadable): "I should've done something different."

Marco's expression didn't change.

But Donovan could see it.

The slight clench of his father's jaw.

The way his fingers twitched.

💭 Because Marco understood that kind of regret.

Devin leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

Devin: "But that's how it goes, huh?"

His eyes darkened.

Devin: "People die. You keep going. Or you don't."

A bitter smile.

Devin: "I kept going."

For a while, nobody spoke.

The weight of what Devin had lost settled over them all.

Elona wiped her nose on her sleeve, eyes red.

Marco was stone-faced, unreadable.

And Donovan?

He wasn't sure what to feel.

Anger?

Sadness?

Pity?

Maybe all of it.

Maybe none of it.

But one thing was clear.

Devin wasn't just some random old man with a cane.

He had lived through hell.

And somehow, he had walked out of it.

The air was still, heavy with exhaustion.

Marco stood just outside the Waffle & Fries stand, arms crossed.

Devin leaned against a nearby table, hands resting on his cane.

The conversation was done.

Marco had listened. Hadn't judged. Hadn't pitied.

But his decision was final.

Marco (calm, firm): "I get it. You lost people. We all did."

Devin exhaled, nodding slowly.

Marco's expression didn't change.

Marco: "But my job is to protect mine. That doesn't change because of your story."

Devin didn't argue.

Didn't try to plead.

Just let out a quiet, bitter chuckle.

Devin (gruffly): "Can't say I blame you."

Marco nodded once.

Then, with no hesitation-

Marco: "You can stay. But not here."

He gestured toward the far end of the food court, where a burger joint sat untouched.

Marco (finalizing): "That's yours. We don't share supplies. We don't share space. You take care of you. I take care of mine."

Devin studied him.

Then-he nodded.

Not in agreement.

Not in gratitude.

Just in understanding.

Donovan had been listening.

And so had Elona.

She had been silent, listening, absorbing.

And when Marco and Devin started to part ways-

She moved.

Stepping forward, small arms outstretched, reaching for Devin.

Elona (soft, gentle): "I'm sorry."

But just as she was about to hug him-

Donovan grabbed her wrist.

Elona whipped around, frowning.

Elona (frustrated): "Let go!"

But Donovan held firm.

His face wasn't angry.

Wasn't mean.

Just... serious.

Donovan (low, firm): "You can't."

Elona struggled in his grip.

Not hard. Not to fight.

Just enough to show she didn't understand.

Her brows knit together.

Elona (soft, confused): "Why not?"

Donovan took a deep breath.

💭 How do I even explain this?

Finally-he spoke.

Donovan: "We don't know him."

Elona bit her lip.

Elona: "But he's sad."

Donovan nodded, still holding her wrist.

Donovan: "I know."

Then-he let go.

Donovan (quieter, but serious): "But being sad doesn't mean he won't hurt us."

Elona looked over at Devin, watching as the older man adjusted his cane.

For a moment-she wavered.

Then, slowly, she stepped back.

Devin saw the interaction.

Didn't comment.

Didn't try to soften it.

Just gave Elona a tired smile.

Devin (softly, to Elona): "Your brother's got a good head on his shoulders."

Elona didn't answer.

Just watched as Devin turned and walked away.

He didn't rush.

Didn't drag his feet, either.

Just moved with purpose, disappearing into the burger joint across the food court.

Gone.

For now.

Marco watched him leave.

Didn't relax.

Didn't trust it.

But for now-Devin was gone.

He turned to Donovan, meeting his son's gaze.

For a moment-they understood each other.

Then-Marco exhaled, finally stepping back inside the Waffle & Fries.

Donovan followed, Elona trailing behind them, quieter than before.

The night had been long.

Too long.

But as the sky began to shift, light filtering through the windows-

Marco's body finally gave out.

He leaned back against the counter, eyes heavy.

Donovan and Elona were already curled up nearby.

His kids.

His responsibility.

His entire world.

Marco let out a slow breath.

Then, for the first time in two days, he allowed himself to close his eyes.

Just for a little while.

The world outside was eerily quiet.

Not peaceful. Never peaceful.

Just... waiting.

And in that stillness, a small figure moved through the food court.

Elona.

She had woken up before everyone else.

And despite everything Donovan had told her...

Despite Marco's strict orders...

She had one thought.

💭 I just want to check on him.

So she did.

The burger joint wasn't far.

Just across the food court.

But as she stepped closer, something felt... off.

The air smelled different-stale, heavy.

The doors to the restaurant were cracked open.

A soft shuffling noise echoed from inside.

Then-a loud crash.

Elona froze.

The sound of metal trays hitting the floor.

Then-a low, wet growl.

Her chest tightened.

💭 Oh no.

Then-something moved.

Back inside the Waffle & Fries stand, Donovan woke up groggy, disoriented.

💭 Why does it feel so... empty?

Then-it hit him.

He glanced over.

Elona's sleeping spot? Empty.

💭 s**t.

His pulse spiked as he sat up fast, scanning the room.

Donovan (muttering, tense): "Please tell me she's just using the bathroom."

He stumbled toward the restroom, knocking once.

No answer.

He pushed the door open.

Nothing.

💭 s**t, s**t, s**t-

Then, he looked toward the food court.

And that's when he saw her.

Running.

Sprinting.

And behind her-

A zombified Devin.

Elona's lungs burned.

Her legs pumped as fast as they could.

💭 He's fast-why is he so fast?!

Behind her, Devin-what was left of him-was gaining.

His cane was gone.

His jaw unhinged slightly, lips peeled back in a bloody mess.

His fingers twitched violently, reaching for her.

And that growl...

Not a scream.

Not a moan.

Just a deep, guttural, hungry sound.

💭 I made a mistake. I made a mistake.

Then-a voice.

Donovan (shouting, panicked): "ELONA!"

She snapped her head up.

And there he was-running toward her.

In one swift motion, Donovan scooped her up.

Elona gasped, clinging to his hoodie.

Elona (breathless, scared): "He-he-"

Donovan (gritted teeth): "I see him. Hang on."

He turned, bolting back toward the Waffle & Fries stand.

His legs burned, his breath came short.

He could hear Devin right behind them-

Reaching.

Hungry.

Then-they made it.

Donovan kicked the door open, rushed inside, and slammed it shut.

The zombie crashed into it just as he locked it.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Elona buried her face in his chest, shaking.

And from the back of the room-

Marco shot up, eyes sharp, instantly awake.

Marco didn't ask questions.

Didn't waste time.

Didn't even blink.

The moment he saw Donovan holding a shaking Elona-

The moment he heard that familiar, awful thud against the door-

He moved.

Like a switch had flipped.

In one fluid motion, Marco was on his feet, gun in hand, moving toward the door.

Donovan struggled to catch his breath.

Donovan (panting, pointing): "It's-he's-"

Marco (gritted teeth): "I see him."

Then-he opened the door.

Zombie Devin lunged.

But Marco was faster.

A swift, brutal kick to the leg.

A sickening c***k as the knee buckled.

Zombie Devin collapsed, falling face-first into the tile floor.

Then-Marco moved in.

One boot against the back of the head.

One sharp stomp.

A sickening, wet crunch.

Then-silence.

Just the sound of Marco breathing, standing over what used to be Devin.

Donovan didn't waste a second.

The moment Devin was down, permanently

He turned, checking Elona's arms, her neck, her hands.

Donovan (frantic, voice shaking): "Did he touch you? Did he-"

Elona shook her head fast, eyes wide.

Elona (soft, shaken): "N-No. I don't think so."

Donovan exhaled sharply, resting his forehead against hers.

Donovan (muttering, breathless): "You scared the hell out of me."

Elona sniffled, gripping his hoodie.

Marco watched them for a moment.

Then-he exhaled.

His expression unreadable.

He looked down at Devin's corpse.

Then, quietly-he spoke.

Marco (soft, gruff): "Guess we never should've let him in."