Sophia tightened her grip on the sleek, black handgun she had just bought, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and caution. The crowded market buzzed around her, unaware of the deadly gift hidden beneath her leather jacket.

"Eighteen, huh?" she whispered to herself, feeling a thrill. "Happy birthday to me."

But then she felt it—a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. Someone was watching her.

She quickened her pace, blending into the crowd, her senses on high alert. Her father's voice echoed in her mind: "Trust your instincts. They won't betray you."

Turning a corner, she saw them—four men, all dressed in dark, menacing outfits, their eyes fixed on her.

"Damn it," Sophia muttered, breaking into a light jog. But the men matched her pace, their number growing as they called for backup.

She broke into a full sprint, weaving through the bustling market. The chaos was her cover, but it was also her prison. She couldn't fight them here without hurting innocent people.

Her breath quickened as she spotted the subway station entrance. Relief washed over her. A crowded station would be the perfect place to disappear.

But as she rushed down the stairs and through the gates, she froze.

Empty. Completely empty.

No passengers. No voices. No trains. Just the distant hum of electricity.

"What the hell?" Sophia whispered, her voice echoing.

The men appeared at the top of the stairs, grinning.

"End of the line, sweetheart," one of them sneered, pulling out a knife.

But before Sophia could react, a guttural scream pierced the silence.

A man—a fifth figure, unknown to both Sophia and the gangsters—lunged forward, sinking his teeth into one of the attackers' necks.

Blood sprayed. Panic erupted.

"What the—?" another gangster shouted, but the bitten man turned, his eyes glazed and dead, yet his body still moving.

He attacked his own ally, clawing and biting.

Sophia's eyes widened. "This can’t be real..."

The other gangsters tried to fight back, but every bite, every scratch only created more of the crazed, lifeless attackers.

"Zombies?" Sophia breathed, horror and disbelief crashing over her.

She gripped her gun tighter. "This was supposed to be a normal birthday..."

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Sophia’s pulse raced as she weaved through the busy market, trying to act normal despite the cold feeling crawling down her spine. The crowd pressed around her, but the sensation of being watched didn’t fade.

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed it—three men, dressed in dark clothes, slipping through the crowd, their eyes locked on her.

"Seriously?" she muttered, clutching her bag tighter.

Turning a corner, she ducked into a side alley, quickening her pace. The bustling noise faded behind her, replaced by the echo of her own footsteps.

But the shadows followed.

"Hey! Wait!" one of them shouted, his voice cutting through the silence.

Sophia broke into a run.

She sprinted, her breath quickening. Her leather boots pounded against the empty pavement, the alley twisting ahead of her.

And then she saw it—the train station. But it was silent. Empty.

"Where is everyone?" she whispered, slowing slightly, her steps cautious.

But there was no time to wonder. The gangsters were right behind her.

One lunged forward. "You’re not going anywhere!"

Sophia’s instincts kicked in. She sidestepped, slamming her elbow into his face. He staggered back, cursing.

"I don't have time for this," Sophia snapped, turning to run deeper into the empty station.

Then she heard it—a low, guttural growl.

A figure stumbled out from the shadows—pale skin, dead eyes, and a mouth twisted in hunger.

The gangster’s shout turned into a scream as the figure lunged, biting into his arm.

"What the hell?" Sophia gasped, stepping back, her hand instinctively reaching for her gun.

But more figures appeared, dragging themselves out of the darkness, all with the same dead, hungry look.

The apocalypse had begun.

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The gangster’s scream echoed through the empty station as he clawed at his bitten arm, his face contorted in agony.

“No! Get it off me!” he yelled, panic flooding his voice.

But before anyone could react, his skin began to bubble and darken, veins twisting beneath the surface like black roots.

Sophia’s eyes widened. This wasn’t human anymore.

The bitten man convulsed violently, then suddenly stopped—his eyes going completely white.

With a terrifying snarl, he snapped his head towards his comrades.

One by one, the others took aim, but the bitten man moved with unnatural speed, grabbing one of them and sinking his teeth into his neck.

Chaos exploded as the infection spread in seconds.

The gangsters fought back desperately, but the station quickly became a battleground between the living and the undead.

Sophia ducked behind a rusted ticket booth, heart hammering. She had to think fast.

“Outnumbered, but not outgunned,” she whispered, checking her pistol’s clip.

If she wanted to survive, she had to move—now.

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