Chapter 4: A Devil in White

Sophia stood frozen, trying to process the sight before her.

The man was tall, his lean frame exuding an intimidating presence. He wore a crisp white lab coat that emphasized his sharp features. His dark hair fell messily across his face, partially hiding his eyes, but she could feel his intense gaze fixed on her.

"Interesting," he mused, his lips curving into a faint, sardonic smile. "A person wandering in my domain."

His voice was low, smooth, and unsettlingly calm.

Sophia's instincts screamed at her to flee, but her legs refused to cooperate. This wasn't just any man—she recognized him immediately.

Ethan.

The enigmatic, dangerous scientist responsible for the virus that had decimated the world. The ultimate antagonist of The Apocalypse Chronicles. And somehow, here he was, standing right in front of her.

"Uh..." Sophia stammered, retreating instinctively. She bumped into an empty metal drum, its loud clang echoing in the cavernous warehouse.

Ethan chuckled softly, the sound devoid of warmth.

Before Sophia could think of an excuse or escape plan, he was already moving. His steps were slow and deliberate, each one imbued with an air of inevitability.

"You're not very good at hiding," he remarked casually, his tone dripping with disinterest. "Though I suppose that's to be expected."

Sophia's mind raced. Think, think! She knew this man was far more dangerous than any zombie. "Look, I don't want any trouble," she blurted, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just passing through. You can have your... uh... space back. I didn't see anything!"

Ethan tilted his head slightly, as if amused by her rambling. "You're trembling," he noted, stepping closer.

Sophia swallowed hard. "I'm not scared of you," she lied.

He stopped just inches away from her, towering over her smaller frame. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and gently pressed a finger to her lips.

"Quiet," he murmured.

Sophia froze, her breath catching in her throat. The chill in his tone sent shivers down her spine.

After a moment, Ethan stepped back and casually draped his lab coat over her shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What...?" she stammered, clutching the fabric.

"You looked cold," he said simply.

The faint smell of antiseptic and something earthy clung to the coat, a mix of clean and clinical. The gesture felt strangely intimate, but Sophia knew better than to trust it.

"Thanks," she muttered, trying to edge away. "But I should really be going now. This place isn't safe, you know."

"Oh?" Ethan's lips curved into another small, humorless smile. "What gave it away?"

Before she could respond, Ethan's hand flicked to his side, and a gleaming surgical blade appeared between his fingers. The sharp glint of the metal made Sophia's blood run cold.

"Wait!" she yelped, taking another step back. "Let's talk this out! There's no need for violence—"

Ethan tilted his head again, his expression calm but unnervingly focused. "Why are you here?"

Sophia hesitated. The truth was out of the question, but lying to this man felt like signing her own death warrant.

"I... I got lost," she said finally, forcing a nervous laugh.

"Lost?" he echoed, the word dripping with skepticism.

"Y-yeah," Sophia stammered, clutching the coat tighter around her. "So, if you'll excuse me, I'll just—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Ethan took another step forward, his blade gleaming ominously.

Sophia's legs shook, her thoughts racing as Ethan's surgical blade gleamed in the dim light. His calm yet menacing demeanor left no room for doubt—she was in serious danger.

"Lost, you say?" Ethan repeated, his voice soft, almost amused. He twirled the blade between his fingers, each movement precise and deliberate. "And yet, here you are, in a factory that just so happens to hold something your father—Governor Smith—desperately wants to keep hidden."

Sophia's stomach dropped. He knows.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said quickly, forcing an innocent tone. "I'm just here by accident!"

Ethan chuckled, a low, mocking sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Accidents don't happen around me." He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. "Tell me, Sophia Smith, what were you really looking for?"

Her heart raced. Admitting the truth could spell disaster, but Ethan wasn't someone she could easily fool.

She clutched the lab coat tighter around her shoulders, trying to think fast. "Fine," she muttered, dropping the pretense. "I was just curious, okay? I wanted to see what my father was hiding. That's all."

Ethan tilted his head, his lips curling into a faint smile. "Curiosity. How... human of you."

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sound of dripping water. Then Ethan's smile faded, his tone turning icy.

"Hand it over."

Sophia blinked. "What?"

"The vial," he said, his voice sharp and commanding. "The one you found in the cabinet."

Her pulse quickened. There was no point denying it—he'd clearly seen her take it.

Sophia's fingers tightened around the small glass vial hidden in her pocket. "What if I don't?" she challenged, though her voice wavered.

Ethan's blade stilled, his expression growing eerily calm. "Then I'll take it from your cold hands. Though I'd much prefer to keep you alive—for now."

For now?!

Sophia's instincts screamed at her to run, but where would she go? She was unarmed, outmatched, and entirely at his mercy.

Reluctantly, she pulled the vial from her pocket and held it up. "Here. Take it."

Ethan's sharp eyes flicked to the vial, and for a brief moment, something akin to satisfaction crossed his face. But instead of taking it, he stepped back, gesturing for her to approach.

"Bring it to me," he ordered.

Sophia hesitated. Every instinct told her this was a trap, but what choice did she have? She took a tentative step forward, then another, until she stood just a foot away from him.

As she held out the vial, Ethan reached for it, his fingers brushing against hers. The brief contact sent a chill through her, and she immediately pulled her hand back.

Ethan examined the vial, his expression inscrutable. Then, to her shock, he tossed it back to her.

"You keep it," he said, his voice light but mocking.

Sophia gaped at him. "What? Why?"

Ethan's lips curved into a cold smile. "Because I want to see what you'll do with it. Consider it... an experiment."

Sophia's fingers tightened around the vial, her confusion growing. "You're letting me go?"

"For now," Ethan replied, stepping back into the shadows. "But don't misunderstand. You're not free. You're merely... postponed."

Before she could respond, the faint sound of moaning reached her ears. Her blood ran cold as the unmistakable groans of approaching zombies echoed through the warehouse.

Ethan tilted his head, his expression calm. "Ah, it seems your audience has arrived."

Sophia spun around, her breath hitching as she saw the horde shuffling toward her. Dozens of decayed figures filled the warehouse entrance, their milky eyes fixed on her.

Oh no, no, no!

She turned back to Ethan, panic rising. "Help me!"

But Ethan only smiled, his figure already fading into the darkness. "Good luck, Sophia Smith. Let's see how far you can go."

And then he was gone.

**Fight or Flight**

Sophia's heart pounded as the zombies closed in. Her pistol felt like a lifeline, but she knew it wouldn't be enough.

Think, Sophia, think!

Her eyes darted around the warehouse, searching for anything that could help. A stack of metal barrels caught her eye—heavy, rusted, and precariously balanced.

She aimed at the base of the stack and fired.

The barrels toppled with a deafening crash, creating a barricade between her and the horde. It wouldn't hold for long, but it bought her a precious few seconds.

Sophia bolted, weaving through the warehouse's maze of debris. The exit wasn't far—if she could just reach it...

A guttural snarl erupted to her left, and she turned just in time to see a zombie lunging at her. She fired instinctively, the shot hitting it square in the chest.

Not the head, she realized too late, as the creature stumbled but kept coming.

Panic surged. She fired again, this time aiming higher. The bullet tore through its skull, and the zombie crumpled to the ground.

Headshots only. Got it.

Her path cleared, Sophia sprinted for the exit, adrenaline fueling her every step.

As she burst into the sunlight, the fresh air felt like a lifeline. But there was no time to celebrate—she had to get back to the base before more zombies appeared.

Clutching the vial tightly, she ran toward Quantum Base, the haunting sound of Ethan's laughter echoing in her mind.