The three of them moved through the narrow alleys behind the buildings, trying to avoid the main roads where they could easily be exposed to The Rotters.

  Jeanne’s mother warned her husband that traveling at night like this was dangerous. It was difficult to read the directions on the map in the darkness, and Jeanne looked terrified. She suggested they find a safe place to rest.

  Seeing how frightened Jeanne was, her father agreed with his wife’s suggestion. They began searching for a building that might be empty and safe enough to stay in for the night.

  Not long after, they spotted an apartment building by the roadside. Perhaps one of the units could shelter them for the night. Slowly they approached the nearest front door, stepping carefully. Jeanne’s mother gently told her to stay quiet.

  Holding an iron rod in his hand, Jeanne’s father slowly tried to open the door, making sure not to create any noise. The handle clicked softly as it turned, and the door creaked slightly as it was pushed open.

  Inside, the house was dark and messy. There was no electricity. Jeanne’s father turned on a flashlight and swept its beam across the room. Everything looked silent. There were no people and no Rotters.

  He entered first to inspect the house further while Jeanne and her mother waited at the doorway.

  His footsteps were slow and heavy as he checked every corner of the house, opening each door one by one. After a while he returned. The house seemed empty. It had most likely been abandoned by its owners.

  They could rest here for the night and avoid the danger outside for the time being.

  The windows were covered with curtains. The door was closed and blocked with a sofa. Jeanne’s father did everything he could to secure the house.

  Jeanne and her mother sat inside one of the bedrooms. Her mother tried to calm Jeanne, who still looked pale and frightened in the dark room.

  Meanwhile, her father searched the rest of the house for anything useful—especially light sources.

  He found two flashlights, several cans of food, four bottles of mineral water, and three kitchen knives.

  With the flashlights, the bedroom where Jeanne and her mother sat became slightly brighter. The canned food eased their hunger, and the water quenched their thirst after walking so far from the place where their car had crashed.

  They ate and drank quietly. The silence in the room contrasted sharply with the terrifying atmosphere outside.

  Screams and roars from The Rotters echoed through the night.

  As the night grew deeper, the air became colder. The darkness thickened without even a trace of moonlight.

  Jeanne eventually fell asleep beside her mother in the bedroom, while her father kept watch in the living room.

  The clock showed two in the morning.

  Jeanne’s father, who had been keeping watch, began to grow sleepy. Slowly, he drifted into sleep.

  But outside the house, the sound of footsteps gradually grew louder.

  The sound startled him awake.

  Gripping a kitchen knife tightly, he stood up. Carefully, trying not to make any noise, he walked toward the window to check the source of the sound.

  He slightly parted the curtain beside the door and looked outside, scanning left and right.

  Someone was standing in front of the house, looking around as if inspecting it.

  Then the person began pounding on the door repeatedly.

  The noise woke Jeanne and her mother.

  There was no voice calling out—only the sound of heavy knocking that grew louder and louder.

  Jeanne trembled in fear.

  Her mother hugged her tightly, trying to calm her shaking daughter.

  Meanwhile, Jeanne’s father stood in front of the door, gripping the kitchen knife tightly, ready to attack if the stranger—or a Rotter—forced their way inside.

  His breathing was heavy. His heart pounded in his chest. But he tried to stay calm.

  Suddenly, the knocking stopped.

  The house fell silent again.

  But the tension inside the small family remained.

  Then something completely unexpected happened.

  The window shattered as something burst through it with a low, feral groan.

  A Rotter had forced its way inside.

  Jeanne screamed while her mother held her tightly.

  Jeanne’s father stood frozen for a moment, tense and ready to fight.

  The Rotter was strong. It charged forward and slammed into him, knocking him to the floor.

  He stabbed it several times with the kitchen knife, but the creature refused to die.

  Struggling beneath its weight, he bent his leg and kicked the Rotter hard, throwing it backward.

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  The creature groaned—not in pain, but in rage.

  It lunged at him again, arms outstretched to grab him.

  Quickly, Jeanne’s father dodged to the side.

  The Rotter turned again and attacked.

  This time, Jeanne’s father kicked forward just as the creature got close.

  The Rotter fell onto its back.

  Without hesitation, he leapt forward and drove the knife straight into its head.

  The creature’s body slowly went limp.

  Finally, it stopped moving.

  This time, it was truly dead.

  Jeanne’s father collapsed beside the corpse, breathing heavily. His body trembled as he tried to calm himself.

  It was the first time he had ever killed something.

  But the noise from the fight had already attracted attention.

  Looking out the broken window, he saw several Rotters slowly approaching the house.

  He quickly stood up and rushed to the bedroom where his wife and daughter were.

  “We have to leave,” he said with a tense expression. “The noise probably attracted others.”

  “What happened, Dad? Why do we have to go?” Jeanne asked while clinging to her mother.

  Her father held her hand gently.

  “The noise drew the Rotters here. So we need to leave before they catch us.”

  They moved slowly through the back door, careful not to make noise.

  Even the door was opened as quietly as possible to avoid its creaking.

  That night was pitch black.

  Only the faint beam of a nearly dead flashlight lit their steps.

  The narrow alley behind the buildings felt like an endless tunnel filled with moving shadows.

  In the distance, the sounds of footsteps and the growls of Rotters began to echo.

  They were getting closer.

  “Quick,” Jeanne’s father whispered urgently.

  Their breathing grew heavier as they ran across the cold pavement.

  Jeanne glanced back briefly and saw terrifying silhouettes moving through the darkness.

  Her heart pounded, but she clutched her teddy bear Chloe tightly, as if the doll were the only thing keeping her fear under control.

  They kept running, leaving the house behind and pushing through the terrifying night.

  There was no other choice.

  They could only move forward.

  They ran—sometimes slowing to a quiet fast walk, holding their breath so they wouldn’t attract attention.

  The dark roads led them to Millbrook Roundabout, then toward Millbrook Flyover.

  Beneath the overpass stretched an open space between the road below and the highway above.

  The giant concrete pillars cast massive shadows, making the place feel like a cold artificial cave.

  Jeanne’s father stopped briefly to catch his breath.

  He looked around carefully, making sure no Rotters were following them.

  Jeanne’s mother still carried her daughter, who held Chloe tightly while trying to peer through the darkness.

  The wind whispered beneath the flyover, mixed with distant sounds they recognized too well.

  The Rotters were still roaming nearby.

  “We need to be careful here,” her father whispered. “Open spaces make us easy to see.”

  They crouched low and moved slowly beneath the shadows of the concrete, hoping to find a safer path.

  Soon they spotted a cluster of thick trees.

  Jeanne’s father signaled with his hand, and they quickly hid behind the dark foliage.

  But through the gaps between the leaves, what they saw ahead made their hearts pound faster.

  Rows of buildings and houses stood there—some still intact, others burned to black ruins.

  The streets between them were filled with moving shadows.

  Rotters wandered everywhere.

  Some staggered slowly. Others ran wildly as if searching for prey.

  Jeanne’s father studied the area carefully, searching for a path they could slip through.

  Her mother hugged Jeanne tighter.

  Jeanne peeked over her mother’s shoulder, clutching Chloe like the last thing she had in a broken world.

  They knew they had to pass through that area to survive.

  But every step meant risking a direct encounter with the Rotters.

  From behind the thick trees, the small family stared ahead.

  Cars were parked along the road and in front of buildings—some intact, others damaged and stained with blood.

  Some houses looked empty. They might provide shelter.

  But the moving shadows made every choice difficult.

  Rotters wandered everywhere.

  Her father exhaled heavily.

  They couldn’t stay here forever.

  “What should we do now?” his wife whispered while holding Jeanne.

  “I’m thinking whether we should hide in one of those buildings… or try to find a car that still works,” he replied quietly while scanning the area.

  Jeanne’s mother looked at her daughter, who was still clutching Chloe tightly.

  “We need to decide soon,” she whispered.

  Her father looked around, uncertainty in his eyes.

  The night grew darker.

  The Rotters’ sounds grew closer.

  This decision could mean life or death.

  “We should find shelter,” his wife said softly. “Jeanne is terrified. We can’t stay outside.”

  “I know,” he replied. “But if we hide in those buildings while so many of those creatures are roaming outside, they could attack us again like before.”

  “Maybe it’s better if we find a working car and get out of here.”

  They argued quietly, careful not to be heard.

  Jeanne simply hugged Chloe and looked between her parents.

  Her mother didn’t want to argue any longer.

  Finally, she agreed.

  They would search for a car.

  Jeanne’s father nodded and signaled them to move.

  They left the trees and carefully approached the rows of parked cars, hoping one of them could still run and take them away from this nightmare.

  They reached the parking area without drawing attention from the Rotters.

  Holding their breath, they moved quietly between the vehicles.

  Jeanne’s father tried opening several car doors slowly, searching for one that still had its keys in the ignition.

  Jeanne hugged Chloe tightly while her mother kept watch for approaching Rotters.

  Finally, they found a white minivan.

  The key was already in the ignition.

  But the door was locked.

  Jeanne’s father had just approached when suddenly—

  The car alarm blared loudly.

  The sound shattered the silence of the night.

  He froze and looked at his wife.

  “I didn’t touch it,” he whispered quickly.

  And it was true.

  One of the Rotters wandering through the parking area had bumped into the car.

  The alarm screamed into the night.

  Within seconds, Rotters began rushing toward the sound.

  Their roars mixed with the alarm, creating horrifying chaos.

  Jeanne and her parents were only about 160 meters away.

  They could see the silhouettes of the creatures gathering near the white minivan.

  Then one Rotter suddenly ran toward them.

  Jeanne screamed and clung tightly to her mother.

  Her father stepped forward.

  The kitchen knife in his hand gleamed faintly under the dim streetlights.

  The Rotter lunged violently and slammed into him.

  He nearly fell.

  Quickly he countered, slashing the creature’s arm.

  Black blood splattered, but the Rotter did not stop.

  He stabbed it again—into the chest.

  The Rotter roared and shoved him backward with frightening strength.

  His body slammed against the hood of a car.

  The fight turned brutal.

  The knife stabbed again—into the shoulder, then the stomach.

  Still the creature moved.

  His face was soaked with sweat and blood as he fought desperately.

  Finally, with a furious shout, he drove the knife straight into the Rotter’s forehead.

  The creature collapsed to the ground.

  It twitched briefly.

  Then it stopped moving.

  Jeanne’s father stood there breathing heavily, his body trembling.

  Jeanne and her mother looked at him with tears in their eyes.

  Relief.

  And fear.

  But the victory lasted only a moment.

  The noise of the fight had already attracted more Rotters.

  Their howls echoed across the area.

  From the distance, a pack of Rotters began running toward them.

  With the little strength he had left, Jeanne’s father repeatedly smashed the car window with all his might.

  Crash!

  The glass shattered after several blows.

  He reached through the broken window and pressed the door unlock button inside.

  The door opened.

  He quickly climbed into the driver’s seat and unlocked the other doors.

  Jeanne’s mother rushed in with Jeanne in her arms.

  They slammed the doors shut and locked them.

  Jeanne’s father grabbed the key and turned the ignition.

  The starter engine whined several times.

  But the car still wouldn’t start.

  He kept trying.

  Outside, the Rotters were running toward them—

  Getting closer with every second.