Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition
Chapter 1292 - 1292: Story 1292: Countdown Serum

The Core Spire's entrance sealed shut behind them with a hollow thoom—like a vault locking in the last hour of a dying era.

Inside, it was pitch black.

Until the lights pulsed on, one by one, revealing a spiral hallway of clean, sterile steel. No blood. No debris. It felt… preserved. Controlled.

A voice echoed from above.

"Welcome, Subjects. You've entered Phase Zero of Countdown Protocol.

Please proceed. You are now on borrowed time."

The lights began to tick, blinking in slow rhythm—like a heartbeat. Or a countdown.

"What the hell is Countdown Protocol?" Shade muttered, weapon raised.

H-13 scanned the walls. "It was VIREX's emergency reset initiative. If infection reached irreversible saturation… a last-option serum would trigger across all neural-linked carriers."

Juno paused. "You mean… a cure?"

"No," H-13 replied. "A purge. Engineered to burn the virus—and the host—with it."

Axen's face went pale. "You mean a city-wide suicide switch."

They moved cautiously. Every step deeper into the spire tightened the pressure around them. They passed rooms filled with cryo-pods—most empty, some still occupied. Some twitched. Monitors blinked above each one.

Subject: REMAINS

Status: Neural Merge - 98%

Countdown Active.

The hallway led to a glass chamber pulsing blue. In its center stood a pedestal with a single vial—silver liquid swirling like living mercury.

A timer hovered in midair above it:

00:59:33

And counting down.

"It's real," Juno whispered. "The Countdown Serum."

REMAINS' voice returned, calm and detached.

"You seek to destroy the infection. But you cannot kill what you are. This serum doesn't cure. It severs the link between body and virus. At a cost."

Axen stared at the vial. "This could end it. Everywhere."

"But it's coded to a host," H-13 said. "A final trigger. Someone has to take it… and become the detonation point."

The team stared at one another.

Shade broke the silence. "I'll do it."

"No," Juno snapped.

"Why not? You know what I've done. Who I was before the world fell apart."

She shook her head. "That's not what this is about. It needs someone the virus has bonded with. Someone the infection listens to."

They all turned to her.

She felt it in her bones—how the voices sometimes echoed in her head before the monsters moved. How she could feel the Turned watching when no one else could.

She wasn't immune.

She was linked.

Axen stepped forward. "Juno, you don't have to—"

"I do," she said. Calm. Certain. "I've carried this thing since the beginning. I survived it. But maybe… I was meant to end it."

She reached for the vial.

The glass was warm.

The moment she touched it, the timer pulsed and dropped to 00:10:00.

REMAINS whispered one last message.

"Once taken, the clock won't stop. Ten minutes. One world. One fire."

Juno looked at her friends.

And then at the sky above.

Ten minutes to choose life… or extinction.