Chapter One
Chapter 1: The Workshop in Nowhere
Adam had always loved the sound of wood. The scrape of the saw, the soft thud of the hammer. It was honest. It made sense.
He lived alone, in a small workshop made of mud and old wood, in the middle of the Egyptian desert. No neighbors. No noise. Just him, his tools, and the doors he built with his own hands. People in the city called him strange for leaving everything behind. He called it peace.
The sun was cruel that afternoon. Dust danced in the light coming through the small window. Adam was working on a new reinforced door, his favorite kind. Strong hinges, thick wood, iron locks. "A door that can survive anything," he muttered to himself with a small smile.
On the old, dusty table behind him, his small television was on. It was his only connection to the world.
The music stopped suddenly. A loud, urgent news tone filled the room. Adam frowned and turned around, hammer still in his hand.
BREAKING NEWS flashed on the screen in red.
A serious-looking reporter appeared. "We interrupt this program for an urgent warning. The government has confirmed... an outbreak is spreading rapidly. Please, stay indoors. Lock your doors.The reporter's voice started to break. "...reports of bites... infection... do not make contact..."
BZZT.
The signal cut. The screen turned to snow, with a harsh white noise.
"Hello?" Adam shouted at the TV, hitting its side. "Come on!"
BZZT. BZZT. The picture came and went. The reporter's face was frozen, her mouth open in a silent scream.
The workshop suddenly felt too small. Too quiet. His heart was pounding so loud he could hear it. He wiped sweat from his forehead, but it wasn't from the heat anymore. It was fear.
He turned slowly towards his big wooden door. He had built it to be the strongest door in the world.
BANG!
A loud, heavy knock shook the entire workshop. Dust fell from the ceiling.
Adam jumped back, dropping his hammer. It clattered on the floor.
BANG! BANG!
It wasn't a normal knock. It was desperate. Violent. Like someone - or something - was trying to break in.
He stared at the door. The handle was shaking.
"Who's thereBANG!
Adam froze. The knock wasn't coming from his strong, main door. It was coming from the back.
The small back door. The one he always forgot to lock because he thought no one would ever find him in the desert.
His blood turned cold. "Oh no... I left it open."
He turned slowly. The small back door was creaking open. A shadow stretched across the floor.
A figure stood there. Its clothes were torn and covered in dust and blood. Its head was tilted in a weird way, and its eyes were completely white.
It made a low, hungry growl and started walking towards him. Dragging one leg.
Adam couldn't move. His feet felt stuck to the floor. TheThe smell was horrible, like rotten meat. Adam wanted to run, but his body wouldn't listen.
The zombie was so close now. He could see the blood on its teeth. It grabbed his shirt with its cold, dead hands. Its grip was like iron.
Adam tried to push it away, but it was too strong. It opened its mouth wide, right in front of his neck.
He could feel its hot, disgusting breath.
"NOOOO!" Adam screamed as it lunged to bite him.
---
He woke up screaming.
Adam jolted up from the cold floor of his workshop, shaking all over, his clothes completely soaked with sweat. His hammer was lying next to him.
The TV was on. It was playing a normal, cheerful song. No breaking news.
He looked around frantically, breathing hard. His big main door was locked and perfectly fine. He scrambled on his hands and knees to the small back door.
It was closed. Locked from the inside.
There was no zombie. No blood. Nothing. It was all a dream. Just a very, very real nightmare.
He slid down against the back door, hugging his knees.
"It was just a dream... just a dream..." he whispered to himself again and again.
But his heart was still beating like a drum, and his hands were still shaking. He stared at the back door and didn't go back to sleep.
