There was no movement nor sound—aside from the distant hum of the wind squeezing through broken windows.
Inside, the air was stale.
"It stinks in here. The fuck!"
With a shallow breath, he nudged the doors shut behind him and dragged over a toppled shelf and a few baskets—just enough to block the entrance in case anything decided to come sniffing around.
Once secure, he started down the aisles, eyes flicking between shelves and corners.
Most of the shelves had been stripped bare.
Empty cartons lay torn open, packaging shredded and crumpled across the floor like old leaves.
A mess left behind by desperate hands.
But deeper in—half-hidden behind an overturned trolley—something caught his eye.
A small stash, untouched.
Two unopened bottles of water. A sealed packet of snacks. And an energy bar—partially bitten into, but still wrapped clean at one end.
His stomach growled in approval, a sharp reminder of his body's limits.
"…Jackpot," he said under his breath, a faint, weary grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Daniel rifled through the shelves like a half-starved scavenger, operating purely on instinct.
His hands trembled slightly as he tore open the energy bar he had discovered lodged behind a toppled trolley.
It was barely intact—partially crushed—but he did not hesitate.
He bit into the softer end, chewing slowly, allowing the artificial sweetness to spread across his tongue.
It tasted stale and synthetic, but it was nourishment. Actual food.
The water he drank was lukewarm and had a distinct plastic aftertaste, but it was manageable.
He sipped it cautiously, resisting the urge to gulp it down like a man emerging from a desert.
He then decided to reserve the unopened snack packet he had picked up for later.
As for the bundle of rations he had previously wrapped in cloth—he had discarded those without a second thought.
"Heaven… mmm."
This was paradise, relatively speaking.
Leaning back against a crooked shelving unit, Daniel exhaled slowly.
For the first time since everything had descended into chaos, he experienced something that faintly resembled peace.
Which, predictably, meant something was about to go wrong.
At first, he heard it faintly—a low rumble reverberating across cracked asphalt.
The mechanical grind of tyres crushing rubble, steady and deliberate.
Daniel paused mid-chew, his jaw freezing.
"...Engines?" he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "That's unusual."
He set the bottle down carefully and tilted his head, attempting to discern the pattern of the sounds.
Additional noises followed: heavy footfalls—four, possibly five individuals—moving in coordinated steps.
Their voices carried faintly through the shattered glass panes, low and clipped.
Then came the unmistakable clicks of firearms being readied—metal sliding, multiple rifles being cocked.
Daniel crept towards the front of the store, crouching low behind the ruined checkout counter.
"The military? Seems I'm saved now. Took them time..."
He had just reached the side of the boarded-up entrance when something let out a roar.
It was not remotely human.
It resembled a malfunctioning engine merged with a lion's scream, layered with the screech of a hundred blades against metal.
The sound struck his ears like a detonation.
"And there goes my chances of survival and peace... Very funny."
Suddenly, shouts erupted from the newly arrived military personnel—or at least, that's who they appeared to be. Uniformed and armed.
"Concentrate fire!"
Gunfire erupted immediately—short, controlled bursts interspersed with frantic commands.
Moments later, something slammed into a wall.
"Fall back! IT'S NOT GOING DOWN!"
Another soldier shouted.
What followed was a sickening crunch—not the sound of bones breaking, but rather of something being forcibly torn apart.
Daniel dropped flat behind the counter, pressing his hands tightly over his ears.
The gunfire, however, did not cease. It only intensified.
The creature shrieked again, joined by other inhuman howls in response.
Were there more now?
Footsteps scraped hastily across the floor.
A voice yelled something incoherent—then, abruptly, silence.
The kind that unsettled your nerves.
Daniel remained motionless, paralysed.
His breathing slowed to shallow whispers as he risked a glance beneath the counter.
Blood was seeping in from the supermarket entrance. It spread rapidly.
He stared blankly.
"…They didn't even last five minutes."
Another roar pierced the air outside—more distant this time, but equally violent.
Daniel blinked twice, then shook his head as if it would clear his thoughts.
"So… turns out firearms are ineffective against them now," he muttered bitterly. "Useful to know."
He remained there in silence as the metallic stench of blood permeated the air.
The snacks were no longer appealing.
"…I'm completely screwed."