The door to the primary culture room at the end of the corridor was wide open—not unlocked or pushed aside, but missing entirely.
Clear damage scarred the frame where the hinges had been, the heavy metal pulled violently out of shape.
The door itself had been dragged down the hall and left leaning against the wall.
Something had come out of that room, something strong enough to rip a metal door off its hinges.
Lincoln raised his M1911, gripping a flashlight in his left hand as he stepped slowly toward the doorway.
He swept the beam inside.
The primary culture room was massive, covering at least a hundred square meters.
Six large incubation tanks lined the center of the room, matching the specs of the ones they had seen before—two meters tall, a meter in diameter.
Four of the six were shattered.
Their glass walls had burst open from within, spraying shards across the floor.
Nutrient fluid had flooded the room and dried into a dark, sticky film.
The insides of the tanks were empty; all the leeches were gone.
The remaining two tanks were intact, packed wall-to-wall with black leeches.
Motionless, they hovered in a dormant state within the fluid.
Lincoln stepped inside and glanced around.
In the corner sat an office desk with a computer monitor, flanked by scattered notebooks and printed documents.
He walked over and picked up the topmost notebook, flipping it open.
Handwritten on the title page was: *Dr.
Marcus’s Research Log – Copy – Clearance Level B1 or Above Only.*
Lincoln flipped through a few pages, scanning for key details.
“…Leech specimens exposed to the T-Virus have demonstrated genetic adaptability far exceeding expectations.”
“While conventional test subjects (rats, canines) rapidly degrade into low-intelligence, aggressive entities after T-Virus injection, the leech specimens retain collective swarm behavior. Under high viral concentrations, they have even developed an aggregated form…”
“…Incubation Observation #47.”
“The leech amalgam is now capable of maintaining a humanoid structure for over 72 hours. The command range of the control core (i.e., the ‘Queen Leech’) remains stable at a radius of approximately twenty meters. Beyond this range, peripheral individuals slough off…”
“…I am increasingly convinced that these leeches are not merely vectors for the T-Virus; they are actively generating a completely new viral strain.”
“For now, I have designated it the ‘Progenitor Leech Virus,’ though this name may need revision as experiments progress. The unique property of this strain lies in…”
The following pages had been ripped out.
Lincoln closed the notebook and paused for a few seconds.
Dr.
Marcus’s log lined up almost perfectly with what he had seen on his system panel.
The leeches had spawned a new viral strain under the influence of the T-Virus; the “Leech Queen Virus” shown on his status screen was undoubtedly the new strain Marcus mentioned.
Marcus had also mentioned the concept of a “Queen Leech.”
The control core inside the amalgam was a Queen Leech, with a command range of about twenty meters.
Beyond that, the outer mass dropped away.
This was crucial intelligence.
If they encountered another leech amalgam, all they had to do was lead it into an open space.
Once its mass expanded past its control radius, the outer layers would slough off automatically.
With the core’s protective layer thinned out, they could focus their firepower and destroy it.
Lincoln stuffed the notebook into his waist pouch.
Right then, a noise echoed from deep down the corridor.
Billy and Rebecca spun around at the same time.
The sound came from the doorway of the primary culture room.
It wasn’t footsteps, but the rustling sound of countless small creatures moving rapidly—dense, rapidly swelling in volume.
Something was swarming toward the room.
Lincoln rushed to the doorway and glanced out.
Down on the corridor floor, pouring from the direction of the distant sample storage room, a black river was surging forward.
Leeches.
Hundreds of them, perhaps thousands.
They blanketed the floor, walls, and ceiling, carpeted together as they swept toward the primary culture room.
They moved at a moderate pace, but their sheer spread covered nearly every inch of the hallway floor.
“We can’t go back,” Billy said.
He had already raised his P226, but pointing the muzzle at the writhing black tide, he had no clear target.
Shooting individual leeches was pointless; a bullet took out one at most.
Emptying a magazine wouldn’t even make a dent.
Lincoln did a quick sweep of the primary culture room’s layout.
The back wall had a door labeled: *Level B2 – Power Facility Access.*
Exactly where they needed to go.
“Back door! Move!”
The three bolted for the back door.
Lincoln reached it first and turned the handle; it was unlocked and swung open.
Beyond it lay a flight of metal stairs leading down to Level B2.
Rebecca and Billy scrambled down first.
Lincoln brought up the rear, looking back down the corridor just before shutting the door.
The tide of leeches had swarmed into the primary culture room, converging on the six incubation tanks.
They weren’t hunting the humans—they were flocking to the tanks.
In the final second before he pulled the door shut, Lincoln caught a detail.
At the bases of the four shattered tanks, the dried nutrient film was being buried under the incoming flood of leeches.
They piled into dense mounds over the broken glass, stacking higher and higher.
They were reaggregating.
Lincoln slammed the door shut and hurried down the metal steps.
The air in the stairwell was colder, thick with the tang of engine oil and rusted iron.
Every step echoed heavily against the metal treads.
Rebecca and Billy were waiting for him at the bottom.
“What are those leeches doing?” Rebecca asked.
“Aggregating.”
“They’re crowding into the shattered tanks. Looks like they’re rebuilding an amalgam.”
Rebecca’s face paled further.
“Hundreds of them?”
“Maybe thousands. If they finish combining, whatever comes out will be much bigger than the thing on the train.”
Billy glanced back up the stairs.
The door remained closed; they were safe for now.
“Then we’d better get the power back on, make contact with the outside, and get out of here before it finishes putting itself together.”
Lincoln nodded.
The Level B2 passageway was rougher than the corridors above, featuring bare concrete walls and main utility pipes thicker than an arm overhead.
Ankle-deep water coated the floor, sloshing softly underfoot as they walked.
At the end of the passage stood a heavy iron door with a sign mounted above: *Central Power Control Room.*
Lincoln pushed it open.
The power control room was massive, spanning at least two hundred square meters.
A colossal diesel generator set dominated the center of the room, taking up nearly a third of the space.
Next to it stood the main power distribution panel, standing over two meters tall and lined with a dizzying grid of switches and indicator lights.
The generator sat idle.
The only source of light was a single emergency lamp in the corner, bathing everything in a dim red glow.
Lincoln walked over to inspect the distribution panel.
The main breaker was set to “OFF.” A hand-scribbled note was taped beside it:
*”7/23 23:00 – Tank #4 in Level B1 Culture Room ruptured.
Leech containment breach.”*
*”Emergency blackout initiated to prevent leech intrusion into electrical gear and short circuits.
Dated 11:00 PM yesterday, it meant facility personnel had deliberately cut the main power after the breach started.
That explained why the building only had emergency lighting—the main grid had been manually shut down, not disabled by a system failure.
“Can you get it running?” Rebecca asked.
Lincoln glanced over the diesel generator.
Starting it wasn’t complicated: as long as the fuel tank, ignition circuit, and cooling system were intact, it would turn over.
He walked around to inspect its side.
The fuel tank was full, the ignition cables were intact, and the coolant reservoir was filled.
“Yeah. We can bring it back up.”
He stepped back to the main panel and flipped the master switch to “ON.”
Then he pressed the generator’s ignition button.
The generator coughed twice before the diesel engine roared to life, ramping up from a rumble to a full thrum that vibrated through the floorboards.
Row after row of indicator lights on the panel lit up, shifting from red to green.
A few seconds later, the fluorescent lights overhead hummed to life.
The power control room flooded with bright light, dramatically expanding their view.
Right on its heels came the faint hum of fixtures starting up on the floors above as the main lighting system came online sequentially throughout the building.
“Power’s back,” Rebecca said, a hint of relief finally creeping into her voice.
Billy’s expression didn’t change, but he clicked the safety back on his P226, showing he felt safe enough for the moment.
Lincoln didn’t let his guard down.
Standing before the main breaker, he listened to the whir of restoring systems from above and mapped out their next steps.
Main power was restored, so the radio in the communication room should be operational.
The next task was returning to the second floor and using the radio to call out.
But the leeches on Level B1 were aggregating, and going back meant passing near that level.
Time was running short.
“Let’s move upstairs. The comms room should have power now.”
The three pulled back out of the control room, retraced their steps along the B2 passage, and climbed the metal stairs.
The stairwell lights were fully illuminated now, vastly brighter than the red emergency glow from before.
As he reached the Level B1 door, Lincoln paused suddenly and listened for a few seconds.
On the other side, there was silence.
The rustling sound of slithering leeches had vanished.
Lincoln reasoned that either the leeches had finished aggregating and settled down, or they had moved farther away from the door.
Neither scenario was good news.
“We skip B1.”
“Keep going up, straight to the main hall on the first floor, then take the grand staircase to the second.”
The three quickened their pace, bypassing the Level B1 door without stopping, and continued upward.
When they emerged into the main hall on Level 1, the space was completely transformed.
With the main power fully restored, the grand chandelier glowed brightly, casting shimmering points of light off its crystal drops.
The hall was easily ten times brighter than before.
Every stain and footprint on the marble floor stood out clearly.
The leeches scattered across the staircase were even more visible in the bright light, their black bodies stark against the dark red carpet.
The three hurried up to the second floor and followed the corridor to the comms room door.
As they passed the library, Lincoln deliberately checked the gap under the door.
The leeches inside were still there, their density virtually unchanged.
They seemed content to linger inside, showing no sign of spreading outward.
Entering the communication room, Lincoln walked straight up to the shortwave radio.
Its power indicator light was on.
He sat down and flipped the master switch.
The frequency display lit up, and white noise hissed from the speaker.
The radio was working.