Ruins and heartbeats

The dead city breathed. It had been days since they had started the expedition. The exploration squad was still rummaging through the ruins of the old world, searching for ancient materials and subway passages. A young woman stood in an old facility that, surprisingly, hadn't collapsed over time. She descended the rusty subway stairs. The air clawed at her throat with each heavy breath. Each step took her further away from the communications relay.

What she felt was not a sound. But she noticed it in her bones. The crunch of stone beneath her boots, the echo of her breath among the broken buildings. Something in the ruins was watching her. She knew it wasn't possible, but she felt it.

The team had moved on, leaving her behind. Again. Not that it mattered: she was only there because they needed flesh to clear the way and verify that death would not be sudden.

- “Do you see anything?” -the gruff voice on her communicator.

- “Nothing, it just looks like I found a new line.”

Her fingers trembled on the rusted metal of a door half-buried in rubble. A glint caught her in the corner of her eye. Something shiny. Throbbing. Embedded in the chest of a collapsed figure.

A human body, twisted in the rubble. Something faintly glowing peeked out from between its ribs. It wasn’t supposed to be there.

The corpse was desiccated, almost mummified. It should smell like death, but the air brought only dust. It wasn't the first one she'd seen, but it was the first one with a shiny object on its chest. Bodies sometimes carried at most small pieces of metal, some with an old battery attached. Her fingers brushed the stone and an icy current ran up her arm. It was her first time touching one. The air stopped rasping in her throat. The sound of the ruins died away, and for a moment only the beating of her heart remained.

A gem. Ancient relics from another world. Beautiful things, but forbidden. The order was clear: destroy every single one. She didn't understand why something so beautiful should be destroyed. But she also didn't understand why she was being exposed in front of it.

She looked at its glow under the light of her flashlight, it was a unique object that fed her curiosity. She knew that any violation of the rules would earn her a spot in front of a firing squad, but she wanted to know the reason for the mysticism to the gems. “If you die, it doesn't matter.” She'd known that since she'd been enlisted for not having a job in the commune. It didn't matter if she broke her legs or got her head blown off. She was just a number. Meat to test the trap before the rest passed. But if she survived... maybe then it would matter. The girl stowed the stone in one of her pockets. She called out through her radio.

-“Boss... I found something. And it’s fucking weird.”- She said in a firm voice.

The chief's distorted voice crackled over the communicator, the mobile relay too far away. She secured the gem and kept running with the communicator on, the radio signal was dying... I needed to get closer to report the new line.

The communicator crackled in her ear as She ran through the ruins. The echo of her footsteps bounced between corroded metal and broken stone. The air brought only dust and there was a latent chill, as if something had become entangled under her skin.

- “Boss... do you copy? Boss, I repeat, I found...”- The signal died, just static.

She kept running. Her flashlight flickered as she moved through a crumbling hallway. The walls were stained with rust and dust. She turned a corner and—something saw her.

She didn't see it directly. But she felt the pressure in the air, the absence of sound. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The hallway ahead twisted in the gloom. A shadow crossed out of the corner of her eye.

- “Fuck...” -She whispered.

A metallic screech echoed. Eyes glinted in the dark as something scraped against the walls.

She drew her weapon — a makeshift rifle patched together from pipes.. It was not a reliable tool, she had only been taught to use it at some point of extreme pressure.

The beings were covered in chitin. They were too thin, too unnatural. They flickered with a pale glow. A metallic screech. Something brushing against the walls. Eyes.

She aimed the rifle and pulled the trigger.

CLICK!

-"Shit!" -She stepped back, pulled the slide but it wouldn't slide.

A shadow slid down the wall. The feeling over her vest intensified, as if something icy was crawling under her skin.

-"Come on, you bastard..."

She pulled the slide again. The trigger refused to budge.

Something was moving. Quickly. She fired.

A burst of metal and fire. The shadow jerked and emitted a harsh screech, like the creaking of bones under pressure. But it was still there.

The flashlight flickered. The air was freezing. Her fingers tingled.

The shadow lunged.

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

-"Fucking work, you piece of shit!"

The flashlight exploded in a burst of light. The shadow shrieked, a high-pitched, unnatural noise that pierced her ears.

The girl fell backward, gasping. The shadow twisted and then vanished into the walls.

Silence. Only her breathing. Her pulse hammering in her temples. Her rifle was still in her hands, useless. The chill over her chest slowly faded.

-What... what the fuck...?

The communicator blinked.

- “Where the fuck are you, we're fucking losing you!”

She breathed, trembling.

- “Sir!... I think... I found something else.”

- “Come back NOW. Do you copy? NOW!”

She looked into the darkness where the figure had been. There was nothing left. Just dust and echoes.

She got up and kept running. Removing the light from her flashlight burned her fingers — whatever had caused it had overloaded it.

The walk back was uncomfortably quiet. Her body was still wired from firing her weapon for the first time outside of training. Besides she didn't know where the gem was, she had kept it in her vest, but running her hand through her pocket she found nothing.

The exhaustion of the long walk left her fatigued when she reached the checkpoint. The cold lights of the camp cast long shadows on the corroded metal floor. The air was still thick with dust, but now there was also a faint taste of rust in her throat.

- “Well?” -the chief's voice was as dry as ever.

She took off her helmet, letting her sweat-damp hair fall over the back of her neck.

- “I found a new line. And something weird.”

The chief narrowed his eyes.

- “Should I log it as ‘unexpected shit number 45,’ or are we actually screwed?”

The chill in her chest made her shiver. A shiver crept down her spine. But then she felt it: something faintly pulsing peeked out from between its ribs, something beneath her skin.

- “I'm... not... sure.”

The chief gave her a hard look, but didn't insist. She turned away and began to check the screen of his portable console.

- “Get some rest. The squadron leaves tomorrow at 0500. You're in front.”

She felt a tightness in her chest. As she looked down, a dark stain dotted the edge of her shirt. A small dark stain, barely noticeable under the artificial light.

Blood?

She touched her sternum, not finding it on her shirt and vest. But when she slid her fingers over the skin, she felt a lump. Cold. Smooth. A mineral texture where there should be dermis and a faint pulse.

The pulse wasn’t hers.

A wave of dizziness hit her; she had to lean against the wall to keep from falling.

-"Everything all right?” -asked one of the guards as he saw her stagger.

- “Yes... just... tired.”

She turned and walked out of the checkpoint with her pulse racing. The cold was still there, deeper now. Not just in her chest... it was spreading through her veins, as if something was awakening inside her.