Chapter 1215: Story 1215: The Man with the Mask
EXT. DERELICT INDUSTRIAL BLOCK – DAWN
A gray sun peeked through a blood-colored sky as Lena, Briggs, and the Girl limped into an abandoned textile mill on the outskirts of Black Hollow. Their breath smoked in the air—unnaturally cold for June.
Briggs scanned their path behind them, weapon drawn.
BRIGGS:
“No signs of the stitched freak.”
LENA:
“Just because he’s gone doesn’t an we’re safe.”
Inside the mill, silence reigned. Machinery lay in ruins. Threads hung like webs. And yet… soone had been living here.
INT. TEXTILE MILL – MAIN FLOOR – MONTS LATER
The place was rigged. Tripwires, bear traps, broken glass at entry points. Soone ticulous. Soone paranoid.
They stepped around a worn rug. Beneath it, a sigil was drawn in old blood. The Girl whispered, eyes vacant:
THE GIRL:
“He watches from beneath the iron.”
Then: a click.
BRIGGS (shouting):
“DOWN!”
A net exploded upward, snaring Lena and Briggs. The Girl ducked low, untouched. Out of the shadows stepped a tall man in a cracked porcelain mask, wearing a butcher’s apron, coat stitched with badges from the old military.
MASKED MAN:
“You tripped the line. That’s on you.”
Lena struggled, furious.
LENA:
“We’re not infected!”
The man tilted his head.
MASKED MAN:
“Everyone’s infected. Just so bleed slower.”
He cut the net with a flick of his blade. They fell hard. Lena reached for her knife—it was gone.
MASKED MAN (tossing it back):
“You wouldn’t have gotten close.”
INT. UPPER MILL – SAFE ROOM – LATER
They sat across from the Masked Man. He handed them cans of preserved beans, a grim feast.
BRIGGS:
“What do we call you?”
MASKED MAN:
“Nas are dead. But so called Ward.”
The Girl spoke softly, pointing to the badges on his coat.
THE GIRL:
“Redgate Division. You were one of them.”
Ward tensed.
WARD:
“I was a clean-up specialist. Burn the bodies. Torch the failed zones. Until they ordered us to torch the living.”
He removed a small pouch and slid it across to Lena.
Inside: a keycard, bloodstained, labeled: RZ-Alpha Vault.
WARD:
“That’s where they took the ‘Seraph’—the one who started talking to the dead. You’re going to need this.”
FLASHBACK – WARD’S MORY
Soldiers screaming. Fire raining down from helicopters. A little girl—bleeding but calm—sits at the center of a destroyed plaza, whispering to a twitching corpse. Then: light engulfs everything.
INT. TEXTILE MILL – MAIN FLOOR – NIGHT
Briggs stood at the window. Shapes moved in the distance—dozens of them. Fast. Coordinated.
BRIGGS:
“They’re not shambling. They’re hunting.”
Ward nodded, loading a bolt-action rifle.
WARD:
“Hybrids. The ones that ca after the gas. Smart enough to wait. an enough to enjoy it.”
Lena grabbed the keycard.
LENA:
“We’re going to the Alpha Vault. You in?”
WARD (after a pause):
“I burned enough bridges to know one road left.”
EXT. INDUSTRIAL BLOCK – ROOFTOP – NIGHT
The four stood silhouetted under the flickering moonlight. In the distance, sirens wailed—and sothing howled back.
Behind his cracked porcelain mask, Ward’s eyes narrowed.
He knew what was coming.
And for once, he wouldn’t run.
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