Half an hour before the earthquake.
The prison morgue.
The coroner was poking at the big guy's body like he'd just discovered sothing fascinating. He kept muttering under his breath.
"He was already dead, right? How the hell are his muscles still this elastic?"
Normally, rigor mortis sets in fast. Muscles lock up from all that lactic acid. But this corpse? Heart stopped, sure—everything else felt alive. Skin, muscle tone, the works.
"What kind of fucked-up environnt is this prison? Even the dead stay soft."
The coroner shook his head and grabbed a syringe. Ti for blood work.
He jamd the needle into a vein and pulled. Empty. "That's not right…"
Tried another spot. Still nothing. Patience gone, he snatched a scalpel and sliced open the inner elbow.
Black liquid oozed out instead of blood. Thick. Viscous. He rubbed it between his fingers and scowled.
"What the fuck are they feeding these inmates? Turning them all diabetic?"
He ignored the weird shit and started the standard autopsy.
That's when the chanting started again.
"Whoa. Since when did the guards get classy enough to blast opera down here?"
"Wait—fuck!"
The sarcastic jab died in his throat. He spun toward the body.
The cut he'd just made was sealing itself shut right in front of him. Skin knitting back together like it was nothing.
The chanting swelled. Louder. Clearer. Dozens of voices layered on top of each other, rising from the walls like they'd been waiting for this exact mont.
Under the coroner's horrified stare, the big guy's corpse slowly sat up.
The song in his ears turned deafening.
Pure terror locked every muscle in the coroner's body. Cold sweat poured down his back. His legs shook so hard he thought he'd piss himself.
He stared at the ID tag on the corpse's chest and forced the ugliest smile of his life.
"Edward Gein… good morning…"
A huge hand flashed out and clamped around his throat like a steel trap.
The coroner thrashed, clawed, kicked—nothing. The grip was inhuman.
Gein twisted once.
Crack.
The coroner's neck snapped. His head flopped sideways, eyes still wide with shock.
Gein stood there a mont, silent. Then he laid the body on the autopsy table, picked up the fallen scalpel, and went to work with practiced ease.
Around and around the neck. One clean circle.
A perfect human-skin face mask peeled away.
Gein held it up, almost reverent. Then he pulled it over his own head.
Warm. Wet. Slimy.
He exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for years.
Only with soone else's face on could he feel safe.
The chanting exploded—deafening now. The whole morgue vibrated.
The ground began to shake.
...
Luke kicked the bathroom door open.
The sight hit him like a sledgehamr.
The warden's office was gone. Just rubble and twisted steel. The entire prison building had collapsed into a massive pit, foundation and all.
"Motherfucker. That wasn't an earthquake!"
Behind him, Warden Holden roared in pure rage.
He stared at the ruins of everything he'd built, face turning purple.
"Who the fuck designed this goddamn building? I'm gonna skin that bastard alive!"
Luke grabbed his shoulder.
"Save it. We need to check for survivors first."
Holden tried to charge out anyway. Luke yanked him back hard.
"Hold up. Where are the weapons? We're not walking out there empty-handed."
Holden froze, then the fury cooled just enough for sense to return.
"Right. Guns. Safe under my desk—two Glocks."
They dug like madn through the wreckage until they dragged the crushed desk free.
Pried the safe open. Two Glocks. Magazines full. No spare ammo.
Holden tossed one to Luke.
"This is all we've got. Don't waste it."
The mont Luke's fingers closed around the grip, the panel lit up in his head.
[Firearm Detected]
[Specialty: Police Marksmanship Activated]
[Police Marksmanship LV1 (0/1000): Physique Bonus 0.1]
Luke blinked at the notification, surprised as hell.
He'd been planning to grind new specialties after he got out. Didn't expect one to drop right now.
A fresh wave of strength rolled through him. He felt steadier already.
Quick check on the pistol, then they moved into the ruins.
Most of the cells had survived better than the main building thanks to the reinforced construction. Inmates were already crawling out of cracks and gaps like rats from a flood.
The second they spotted the warden, the yard exploded.
"Run! This is a fucking gift from God!"
"Jack, I can't run—I'm out in a week!"
"Bullshit! You bragged about killing half a dozen people to get in here!"
"That was just talk, man!"
Total chaos. Then one voice cut through the noise, pointing straight at Luke.
"Hey, I told you that Luke kid was a fucking undercover cop!"
Bang!
The gunshot cracked like thunder even in the open air.
Every head snapped toward Luke.
He calmly holstered the Glock, patted Holden's shoulder, and stepped back.
Your turn, Warden.
Holden got the ssage. Cleared his throat and started barking orders, pulling guards and inmates into so kind of order.
After a lot of shouting and shoving, they had fifty-plus inmates and a dozen guards gathered.
The rest were either still buried or had already vanished into the chaos. Holden didn't have ti to care who ran.
Survival first.
They claid a half-standing lounge as a temporary base and started organizing rescue teams. Marked spots where they heard voices calling for help.
That's when Luke rembered the weird shit from that morning.
He turned to Holden, who was sweating and covered in dust.
"Warden, what do you normally do with bodies when soone dies in here?"
Holden answered without looking up.
"Straight to the morgue for autopsy. Wait—the coroner!"
He smacked his own forehead.
They had wounded everywhere. A doctor—any doctor—would be worth his weight in gold right now.
"Let's move. Morgue."
Holden grabbed a crew and followed Luke, digging toward the collapsed section.
When they finally cleared the rubble, the horror show inside the morgue hit them all at once.
The coroner's body was sprawled across the autopsy table, head nothing but a smashed ss of blood and bone.
The big guy's corpse—the one that was supposed to be lying there—was gone.
Luke looked straight at Holden, voice flat and serious.
"Do the dead in your prison co back to life?"
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