A day had passed since the lockdown.

Foreman Albion looked tiredly at the hefty bulkhead shutters before him; a towering wall covering the nightmare within the East Quadrant of the Industrial Sector. Albion hadn’t really seen anything from beyond the gates, but from the accounts of the survivors and the rumours rapidly circulating—he was lucky he hadn’t. He can remember the last 24 hours rather vividly, despite the fresh headache rattling his skull.

                He had been debriefing the Marker Pull Teams on their prior job moving the Marker a week ago, discussing the next steps and the potential mineral deposits discovered at a different dig site, when the commotion began. Several engineers, technicians, miners and security staff were gunning it down the main corridor of the East Entrance, looking worse for wear. Several of them had bloodstains decorating their uniforms, some had deep lacerations and wounds on their extremities; but all of them had the same, terrified look on their faces. The security guard leading the P-Sec squad ran over to Albion and, grabbing his shoulders, ordered him to initiate lockdown procedures for the East Quadrant. Shaken, he complied—sealing the bulkheads and beginning the lockdown of all secondary and tertiary exits to that area of the Industrial Sector. Albion and his crew were tasked with securing the area and establishing a care station for survivors coming in from the lockdown, which led him to now. He hadn’t slept a wink, his nerves constantly firing from the insanity of the past day—his body riddled with exhaustion, anxiety, and confusion all bundled together in a blob at the pit of his stomach.

Ever since the lockdown finished, he’d been hearing things. Screams from beyond the bulkhead, some human and some…not. Scratching in the walls, weeping of survivors and screams of the wounded being treated by med staff that had arrived hours ago. Strangest of all, the one noise that unsettled him the most was the faint sound of…music. Ballet music, to be specific, a soft piano instrumental that glided into his ears from seemingly nowhere…a serenade that sounded awfully familiar. He could’ve sworn it was the music from his daughter’s last recital, before the crash…

He quickly shook his head, the noise seeming to vanish against the cacophony of other stimuli around him. He was tired, he just needed sleep. P-Sec and EarthGov would be along to sort this whole thing out, and things would go back to normal soon—at least that’s what he told himself. Testimonials from other survivors made him increasingly worried about what was going on: Some of the engineers working in the Megavent complex said they heard chanting in the ventilation leading to the newly constructed Marker Chamber before those…things came. Another person said that they thought they heard scratching in the vents above the halls leading to Public Sector, but he wasn’t sure. Albion overheard two nurses saying that, moments after the lockdown was issued, the Church of Unitology sealed itself completely, cutting itself off from the rest of the colony. The foreman was finding it harder and harder to rationalize the dire straits in front of him, his head swimming with fear and angst. Standing up with a wobble, Albion sauntered away from the chaos and into his private office, not too far from the bulkhead. He opened the door, the metal hissing apart and then sealing behind him with a chunk as he held his helmeted face in his hands.

The music had returned, louder this time, as Albion slumped on a crate in his office. He was beyond his limit, his mind fit to break under the pressure of all that has happened; but the music soothed him, lulled him into a sense of calm that the past day had rendered foreign to him. Things were so much simpler back then, when it was just him and Suzie. Albion closed his eyes, and in an instant he was back there—in the halls of his daughter’s school. Albion stood, mesmerized by the new environment he found himself in, and then he saw her.

Suzie was stood in the hallway, her poofy pink dress glimmering in the fluorescent lights above as she beamed a wide and giddy smile towards him. “Daddy, hurry up! My part’s coming up, I don’t want you to miss it!” Her tiny form giggled as she ran out of sight down the hall.

“Suz, wait for me!” Albion followed after her, stumbling as he followed his daughter to the assembly hall.

The people in the care camp were mostly unaware of Albion’s reemergence into the main area. Those that did see him shot him odd looks and confused stares as he meandered slowly through the crowded, makeshift camp, muttering to himself.

“Hurry up, Dad! They’re gonna close the door soon!” Suzie called out from the end of the hall as she entered the room ahead. Albion quickened his pace, completely unaware of his true surroundings. He didn’t want to miss his daughter’s dance, after all.

He reached the door, looking at it for a moment, before putting his hand towards the blue hologram in the center, intent on opening it. As soon as his hand touched the lights, it turned orange, signifying it was locked. Albion sighed, frustrated, how was he going to see his daughter’s recital now? That’s when his daughter’s voice returned, behind the door. “The keys on the side of the door, silly! You know the code!”

Many eyes were on Albion as he sauntered towards the door, the survivors murmuring confused questions and exchanging worried glances as he approached the locked bulkhead’s mighty frame.

The confusion quickly turned to fear as a voice shouted from the crowd.

“Oh my god…”

“HE’S GOING FOR THE DOOR CONTROLS!!”

"SOMEONE STOP HIM!”

Albion turned and gasped as ghostly silhouettes approached him from the hall, their shadowy forms echoing out haunting screams and distorted voices. Quickly he rushed for the keypad on the side of the wall and opened its interface. He began entering his credentials, hearing a light beep as the kiosk confirmed his identity and opened to the main interface hub. Strange, Albion thought how similar the school’s door controls were to the ones of the CEC, but he shrugged it off as the corporation expanding its products to more civilian markets. The idea brought a bit of a smile to his lips as he tapped his finger on the icon for “EMERGENCY RELEASE”. He looked over to the fast approaching shapes and quickened his movements. They weren’t going to stop him.

Many of the people in the immediate vicinity to Albion were far too injured to move quickly, leaving Mining Super Paul Manart as the only able-bodied person close enough to Albion to make any meaningful attempt at stopping him. Paul grabbed Albion and put himself between the interface and his coworker, grabbing him by the shoulders as he beseeched his old friend:

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Oz?? You can’t do that, not until EarthGov and P-Sec give us the all-clear. Sit down… you’re exhausted, please…”

Albion gasped as the shadowy figure grabbed him, stunned by its presence and rendered unable to move. He saw glimpses, snapshots of his long-time friend Paul, in the face of the shadow, as it let out its words in a harsh whispering yell.

“You’ll kill us all…” the thing said, its grip growing tighter around Albion’s shoulders as he stares into the formless mass of darkness, reality slowly beginning to fade into view. He was about to give in when Suzie’s voice cut through Albion’s trance: “Don’t go, Daddy!! You promised you’d see me dance… you promised you’d keep me safe. Just open the door and we can be happy again!”

Albion looked at the shadow of Paul as it became clear, the masked man clad in mining gear stood inches from his face, a mixture of confusion and fear reflecting through the visor of his gas mask. Paul had always been good to him, staying by his side when the pain of his daughter’s death was overwhelming. Albion had been running late to the recital after being held up at work, missing his daughter’s dance as the doors had been locked. All he could hear was the music as he looked for ways in. By the time a Janitor had unlocked the doors, she had already finished her dance—her teary-eyed face looking back at him as she exited the stage. He had promised her he’d never miss another recital on the car ride home—but he never got the chance to prove it, as a malfunctioning automated transport barreled down the expressway and into their car, colliding with the passenger side, leaving him as the only survivor.

Albion looked at Paul, completely lost to his own delusions as he put one hand on his shoulder: “I can see her again, Paul… she’s just through here… I’m gonna miss her dance if I don’t open it.” He pushes Paul aside, managing to punch in a few of the keys to the door release code before suddenly being grabbed by Paul and violently pulled back. In an instant, reality once again disintegrated for Albion, as the school returned to full view and his friend transformed into the terrible shadow once again—the thing roaring incoherently as Albion shouted in surprise. He was so close now; his daughter was just beyond the door. The music was loud and boisterous—the dance had begun. With a defiant roar, Albion launched a gauntleted fist into the shadow’s face, sending the beast careening to the floor, its hands reaching towards its face and screeching in pain as he returned to his task. He saw other shadows approaching, and wasted no time as he quickly thumbed the other keys on the pad.

Paul was struggling to get up from the hard punch Albion had given to his face. Even with the mask on, he could feel the torrential tide of blood gushing from his freshly-broken nose. He was begging now, his words slurring from the constant dribble of blood down his face as he attempted to reason with his delusional friend.

“Ozzie, please… don’t do this. I dunno what’s wrong with you but you gotta stop man… t-there are wounded here, don’t fucking open the door, please, PLEASE—” It was already too late. With one press of the final key, the door began to hiss as the shutter slowly lifted. The nightmarish sounds, once muffled by the mighty bulkhead seal, grew louder as the opening door revealed the horrifying origins of the terrible noise.

Paul screamed as he saw many hands and tendrils shoot out from under the opening shutter, dragging him into the darkness of the corridor in a flash of movement. Sounds of sickening snapping and the tearing of flesh were accompanied by Paul’s terrified and agonizing shrieks, which were soon drowned out by the resounding terror of the camp’s denizens as chaos ensued.

Albion heard none of it as the doors opened to an empty ballroom, his daughter prancing along and humming along to the music as her feet guided her along the stage. She looked amazing, Albion couldn’t help but smile as she finished her dance with a pirouette and a curtsy to an empty audience. Suzie looked at her father and smiled. “You’re here!!” She shouted with glee, stepping off the stage as Albion outstretched his arms for a hug.

“You did amazing, sweetie…” Albion said as Suzie rushed to him, arms ready for an embrace.

“I’m so happy to see y—URK!” Albion wasn’t able to finish his thought as Suzie collided with him, a sharp pain cutting through his midsection. He looked down at his torso to see the bladed arms of something had punched through his stomach. Reality quickly returned as he felt himself being hoisted in the air.

Albion was staring into the eyes of a monster—one that was wearing a P-Sec uniform. It’s grey hair clumpy and its lower jaw gone, its white mustache caked in blood and viscera as Albion was blinded by pain and terror. He’d let them in, the monsters pouring in by the dozen as the encampment fell apart, survivors desperately fleeing in all directions to escape the madness Albion had wrought upon them. He screamed as the thing that was the former P-Sec Commander tore him in half, but his screams were just one of many—joining the cries of the fleeing crowds and the roars of the advancing horror as the monsters flooded into the rest of the Industrial Sector.

The quarantine sensors began sealing exits left and right—but the system was getting overwhelmed by the sheer volume. It was too late now.

Far too late.