Threads Unraveling -4

The downtown district was alive with chaos. Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the streets as officers cordoned off the area. A growing crowd of onlookers murmured in anxious confusion, craning their necks for a glimpse of the scene beyond the barricades.

James and Jessie pulled up just as another ambulance sped away, sirens blaring into the night.

“Multiple casualties,” James muttered, stepping out of the car. He scanned the crowd, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. “This isn’t random.”

Jessie followed, her hand brushing her holster as a precaution. “What are we looking at?”

An officer approached, his face pale and drawn. “Detectives. We’ve got six down, three DOA, three critical. Witnesses say it started inside that café.” He pointed to a shattered storefront, its windows smeared with blood.

Jessie’s stomach turned at the sight. “What exactly happened?”

The officer hesitated. “Reports are… inconsistent. Some say it was a fight that got out of hand, others say the attackers weren’t normal.”

“Not normal how?” James pressed, his voice steady despite the unease creeping into his chest.

The officer lowered his voice. “Some said they looked dead. Like corpses.”

Jessie exchanged a glance with James. “Show us.”

Inside the café, the air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood. Tables and chairs were overturned, the walls scarred with deep gouges that looked like they’d been made by claws.

Jessie crouched by one of the bodies, a young woman whose vacant eyes stared at the ceiling. Her neck bore jagged bite marks, the skin around the wounds discolored and swollen.

“This isn’t just a murder scene,” Jessie said grimly, pulling on a pair of gloves. “It’s a feeding ground.”

James knelt beside another body, examining the wounds. “Same marks as Liam. Bites, scratches… something about the way the flesh is torn. It’s deliberate, like they were hunting.”

One of the EMTs approached, his face pale. “Detectives, you need to see this.”

They followed him to one of the surviving victims—a man in his thirties, restrained on a stretcher and thrashing violently. His veins were dark, almost black, and his skin was slick with sweat.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jessie asked.

“We don’t know,” the EMT admitted. “His heart rate’s off the charts, and his temperature’s spiking. It’s like his body’s fighting something, but we can’t figure out what.”

The man let out a guttural growl, his eyes snapping open to reveal irises clouded with a sickly gray. His movements became more frantic, the stretcher groaning under his weight.

“Get him sedated!” James barked.

“We’ve tried,” the EMT said, panic creeping into his voice. “Nothing works.”

Before anyone could react, the man broke free, lunging off the stretcher with terrifying speed. His strength was inhuman, sending an officer sprawling as he charged toward Jessie.

Instinct kicked in. Jessie drew her weapon and fired, the bullet striking the man in the chest. He staggered but didn’t fall, his eyes locking onto her with a feral intensity.

“Headshot!” James shouted, raising his own weapon.

Jessie didn’t hesitate. Her next shot hit the man square in the forehead, and he crumpled to the floor, motionless.

The room fell silent, the only sound the ragged breathing of those who had witnessed the attack.

“What the hell was that?” one of the officers muttered.

James holstered his weapon, his mind racing. “Not a man. Not anymore.”

Back at the precinct, James and Jessie sat in the dimly lit briefing room, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on them.

“This isn’t a murder investigation anymore,” Jessie said, her voice quiet but firm. “It’s something else. Something… bigger.”

James nodded, his hands clasped tightly together. “We’re dealing with a contagion. Whatever happened to Liam is spreading. And it’s fast.”

Jessie leaned back, running a hand through her hair. “Ryan mentioned sending samples to the lab. Maybe they’ll have answers.”

James stood abruptly. “We’re not waiting. Let’s get to the lab and see what they’ve got.”

Meanwhile, in a sterile underground facility, Leonard stood before a glass enclosure, observing the figure inside. It was one of the infected—a man whose body had begun to contort unnaturally, his veins pulsating with the dark substance coursing through him.

Leonard’s assistant approached, clipboard in hand. “The samples show rapid mutation. The virus—if we can call it that—is evolving.”

“Good,” Leonard said, his tone devoid of emotion. “The more we learn, the better we can control it.”

The assistant hesitated. “And if we can’t control it?”

Leonard turned, his cold gaze piercing. “Failure isn’t an option. If this leaks any further, it’s not just our careers on the line—it’s humanity itself.”

The assistant swallowed hard, nodding.

Leonard returned his attention to the glass. The infected man let out a low growl, his eyes locking onto Leonard with a predatory hunger.

At the lab, James and Jessie were met with grim faces. Ryan stood at the center of the room, holding a vial of dark, viscous liquid.

“This,” he said, placing the vial on the table, “is what’s in Liam’s blood. And now it’s in others.”

Jessie peered at the substance. “What is it?”

Ryan shook his head. “We don’t know yet. But it’s not natural. It’s changing the host, rewriting their biology. And once it takes hold…”

“They’re not human anymore,” James finished.

Ryan nodded. “Exactly.”

Jessie crossed her arms, her mind working overtime. “So how do we stop it?”

Ryan’s expression darkened. “I don’t know if we can.”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as the trio stared at the vial. Outside, the city’s lights flickered, oblivious to the darkness that was creeping ever closer.

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