Chapter 12: First Blood

The figure was approaching them.

Dark. Intimidating. Without a clear form.

Takeru gripped the dagger, his eyes fixed on the creature.

Its stature was tall. Almost three meters. Its arms hung at the sides of its body, long, too long to seem human.

Its speed was slow. Constant. As if it had all the time in the world.

Two hundred meters away.

UUUUuuuu.

The sound continued. Low. Deep. It came from that thing, but Takeru couldn't figure out from where exactly.

From the mouth? From the throat? From the entire body?

He couldn't see.

Takeru's heart beat hard.

This is a Detroit.

This is the enemy.

His hands trembled slightly. Not from fear. From adrenaline.

Beside him, Kobayashi breathed heavily. "What the hell is that thing?"

Sato gripped the M4A1. "It's exactly like in the videos."

Kenji said nothing. He stared at the creature with a serious expression.

Midorikawa, behind everyone, remained motionless. The sniper in her hand. Calm.

The creature continued to approach.

Slow. Relentless.

One hundred ninety meters.

One hundred eighty meters.

"Guys," Takeru said, his voice steady. "We can't let it get to us. We have to take it down first."

He turned toward Sato and Kenji.

"You with the long-range weapons, start shooting if you're sure you can hit it. But don't waste bullets randomly."

Midorikawa raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you become our leader?"

Takeru turned toward her. Hard eyes.

"Since now."

Silence.

"And besides," Takeru continued, "your bullets will be used in the most critical moments. The sniper is a powerful weapon. You don't waste it on just one."

Midorikawa didn't respond. She looked at him. Empty expression.

But in her eyes, something moved.

Takeru turned back toward the Detroit.

One hundred sixty meters.

One hundred fifty meters.

Sato and Kenji got into position.

They raised the M4A1s. Aimed.

But they didn't shoot.

Ten seconds passed.

Twenty seconds.

The Detroit continued to approach.

UUUUuuuu.

"Why aren't you shooting?" Kobayashi asked, nervous.

Sato gripped the weapon. "I want to be sure."

Kenji nodded. "Too far. Risk of wasting ammunition."

Takeru stayed quiet. He observed.

They're right. Better to wait.

The Detroit entered the hundred-meter range.

Ninety meters.

Eighty meters.

Now it could be seen better.

The dark figure had no clear details. It seemed made of shadow. Of black fog. But it had a shape. Human. Distorted. Too tall. Too thin.

Its arms hung down almost to its knees.

Its head was round, but without a visible face.

Only darkness.

Seventy meters.

"Now," Sato said.

Pew.

A shot fired from Sato's M4A1.

The bullet cut through the air.

And hit.

The head.

Pew.

A second shot from Kenji.

The chest. Where the heart should be.

The Detroit stopped.

For a moment, it remained motionless.

Then, slowly, it began to crumble.

The dark figure dissolved. Like dust. Like ash carried away by the wind.

In a few seconds, there was nothing left.

Only the sound fading away.

UUUUuuuu... uu... u...

Silence.

Takeru stared at the spot where the Detroit had been.

It's dead. Just like that.

Two shots and done.

Kobayashi lowered the Glock. "Detroits are like humans. You shoot their vital points and they die more easily than you think."

He paused.

"But that doesn't mean all types. Especially the stronger ones."

"Hmmm, okay," Takeru responded.

He looked around. The street was still empty. Absolute silence.

"Come on, let's start moving to search for other Detroits. But let's stay close to the portal. You never know."

The team nodded.

They started moving.

They walked for about five minutes.

Their steps echoed in the silence.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Takeru looked around. Dark buildings. Black windows. Empty streets.

The cold on his face never went away.

The empty air continued to bother his lungs.

Then, Sato raised a hand.

"Stop."

Everyone stopped.

"What is it?" Takeru asked.

Sato pointed ahead. "There."

About fifty meters away, in the middle of the street, there was another figure.

But this one was different.

Smaller.

Tall as an average man. Maybe one meter seventy.

But it moved differently.

Fast.

It darted from one side of the street to the other. Forward. Backward. As if it couldn't stay still.

Krrrr. Krrrr.

A different sound. Sharper. More annoying.

"It's faster," Kenji said.

Takeru gripped the dagger. "I see it."

He took a step forward.

"This time I'll take it."

Kobayashi looked at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Takeru advanced. Slowly. The dagger in his right hand. The Glock in his left.

The Detroit saw him.

It stopped.

Then it darted toward him.

Fast.

Much faster than the first one.

Takeru raised the Glock.

The Detroit was twenty meters away.

Fifteen.

Ten.

The Detroit's hands rose. Dark claws. Sharp. Long as knives.

Five meters.

Takeru pulled the trigger.

Pew. Pew. Pew.

Three shots.

The first missed.

The second hit the arm.

The third.

The head.

The Detroit stopped abruptly. Two meters from Takeru.

Then it collapsed forward.

And dissolved.

Dust. Ash. Nothing.

Takeru lowered the pistol. His heart beat hard.

Too close.

Too fast.

He breathed heavily.

He turned toward the others. "You guys handle the large-sized monsters. I'll take care of the small ones."

Kenji nodded.

Sato too.

Midorikawa, behind them, said nothing.

She still hadn't fired.

Not even once.

The team continued moving forward.

They walked. They searched. They killed.

One Detroit. Then another. Then another.

Some large. Some small. Some fast. Some slow.

But all fell.

Sato and Kenji handled the large ones.

Takeru the small and fast ones.

Kobayashi helped where needed.

And Midorikawa?

She followed. That was all.

She didn't shoot. She didn't help. She walked behind with the sniper in her hand.

Calm. Quiet.

As if she didn't care about anything.

Takeru looked at her every now and then.

What the hell is she doing?

Why isn't she shooting?

Is she waiting for something?

Every time they killed a Detroit, Takeru expected her to say something.

But nothing.

Only silence.

And that subtle smile on her face.

She's doing it on purpose.

I know it.

Takeru clenched his teeth.

But he said nothing.

Not yet.

Hours passed.

One. Two. Three. Four.

The gray sky didn't change. It always seemed like the same moment. As if time didn't exist.

Takeru checked the school phone.

Detroits killed: 7/50

Still so much to do.

His legs began to feel heavy. Not too much. But he felt it.

His arms too. Gripping the pistol for hours wasn't easy.

Sweat soaked his back under the uniform.

His face was cold, but his body was hot.

He breathed a bit heavier than before.

He looked at the others.

Sato wiped his forehead with his hand. Kenji rotated his shoulders, his muscles tense.

Kobayashi breathed with his mouth open.

They were tired too.

"Come on, guys," Takeru said, stopping. "Let's rest. We've been working for four consecutive hours."

"But where?" Kobayashi asked, looking around.

"In one of these buildings, obviously. It's not like the Detroits will be inside. And even if they are, we'll kill them."

The others looked at each other.

They didn't seem convinced.

But they needed rest.

"Okay," Kenji said. "But let's choose carefully."

They stopped in front of a building.

Low. Four floors. It looked like an office. Large windows on the ground floor. Closed glass doors.

"Ground floor," Takeru said. "Easier to escape if needed."

No one objected.

They approached the door.

Takeru tried to push it.

Locked.

"Kobayashi."

Kobayashi raised the Glock and shot the lock.

Pew.

The glass cracked. The door opened.

They entered.

Inside it was dark. But not too much. The gray light from the sky entered through the windows.

The office was empty.

Desks. Chairs. Computers off. Papers scattered.

Everything frozen. As if people had rushed out and never returned.

The smell of mustiness. Of dust.

Takeru looked around. "Let's check first."

They split up. They checked every room. Every corner.

Nothing.

No Detroits.

Only silence.

"Okay," Takeru said. "We can stop."

They sat down.

Some on chairs. Others on desks.

They pulled out the food they had brought.

Bread. Energy bars. Water.

No one spoke.

They ate in silence.

Sound could attract the Detroits.

Takeru chewed slowly. The bread was dry. He needed water to get it down.

He drank. The water was cold. It helped.

He looked at the others.

Sato ate quickly. As if he was very hungry.

Kenji chewed slowly, thoughtful.

Kobayashi drank more than he ate.

And Midorikawa.

Sitting apart. She ate calmly. As always.

Takeru watched her.

You still haven't done anything.

What are you waiting for?

She looked up.

Their eyes met.

She smiled.

That damned smile.

Takeru looked away.

He grabbed another energy bar. Opened it. Took a bite.

He chewed.

Then he stopped.

A moment.

This taste...

He chewed again.

It was different.

Not bad. But not normal.

There was something. A strange note. Almost metallic.

Takeru looked at the bar.

It looked normal. Same packaging. Same color.

Maybe I'm just tired.

He took another bite.

Same thing.

Strange taste. Subtle. But there.

He looked at the others.

No one seemed to notice anything.

They ate normally.

Is it just me?

He took a sip of water.

The taste went away a bit.

Okay. Probably nothing.

He finished the bar.

Then drank more.

Silence.

Everyone had finished eating.

They remained seated. Resting.

Their muscles relaxed a bit.

Their legs stopped pulsing.

Takeru closed his eyes for a moment.

The silence was heavy.

Too heavy.

Then—

CRASH.

The sound of breaking glass.

Takeru opened his eyes instantly.

He stood up.

Everyone stood up.

"What the hell was that?" Kobayashi asked.

CRASH. CRASH.

More glass breaking.

From the windows.

Takeru turned.

And saw them.

Detroits.

Three. Four. Five.

They entered through the broken windows.

Dark figures. Small. Fast.

Krrrr. Krrrr. Krrrr.

"GET READY!" Takeru shouted.

He raised the Glock.

Pew. Pew. Pew.

He fired.

One fell.

Sato and Kenji fired too.

Pew. Pew. Pew. Pew.

Two fell.

Kobayashi fired.

Pew. Pew.

Another fell.

The last one darted toward Takeru.

Fast.

Claws raised.

Takeru didn't have time to reload.

He dropped the pistol.

He grabbed the dagger.

The Detroit jumped.

Takeru dodged to the side.

The dagger moved.

Fast. Precise.

It sank into the Detroit's head.

The creature stopped.

Then dissolved.

Dust.

Nothing.

Silence.

Takeru breathed heavily.

His heart beat hard.

They found us.

How?

He looked at the broken windows.

The food. The smell.

The noise.

We were stupid.

He turned toward the others.

"Finish up quickly and let's go. Now."

No one objected.

They grabbed what remained of the food.

They put it back in their backpacks.

Fast. Without speaking.

Takeru picked up the Glock. Reloaded.

He looked at Midorikawa.

She stood there. Calm. As if nothing had happened.

As always.

You didn't shoot this time either.

Why?

But he didn't have time to think about it.

"Let's go," he said.

The team exited the building.

They returned to the street.

The silence welcomed them again.

But now it seemed different.

More dangerous.

Takeru gripped the dagger.

Still forty-three Detroits to kill.

And only twenty hours left.

They walked.

The gray sky above them.

The empty streets around them.

And somewhere, in the Hollow—

More Detroits.

Waiting.