The morning light filtered weakly through the thin curtains of Eli's apartment. He hadn't slept well; his dreams were a tangle of wings and teeth, of birds twitching in impossible ways, eyes glowing like coals. He could still hear that shrill cawing echoing in his skull. It was as if the forest had followed him home, and it refused to let him rest.
He poured coffee into a chipped mug, trying to force his mind away from the images in his camera. Zooming in, analyzing the twitching sparrows, he had felt a prickle at the back of his neck. There was something unnatural about them, something deliberate. But birds dying in odd ways, though unsettling, could be explained. Or so he told himself.
The first knock at his door shattered that illusion.
"Eli!"
He froze. The voice was cheerful, familiar. Relief rushed through him. It was Andrew, his neighbor. "Morning," Eli called cautiously, approaching the door.
But as he opened it, he saw it. Marley.
His dog. Or what had once been his dog.
Marley trotted into the apartment, fur matted and dirty, paws leaving dark smudges across the floor. But something was horribly wrong. His head hung low, jaw slightly unhinged, teeth glinting unnaturally in the sunlight. His amber eyes had lost their warmth, replaced with a dull, predatory yellow. Eli's stomach dropped.
"Marley…?" he whispered. The dog's ears twitched, and it let out a low, guttural growl—not a bark, but a sound that made the hair on Eli's arms stand on end.
The first thing Eli noticed was the smell. It was acrid, almost metallic, mingled with something rotting underneath. Marley had always been a clean dog, but this… this was different. This was wrong.
He backed away slowly. "Hey, boy… it's okay, it's okay…" His voice faltered. Marley didn't respond in the usual way. Instead, the dog tilted his head, studying him like he wasn't a master or a friend but prey, an obstacle.
Then came the twitch.
A sharp spasm ran through Marley's body, and his front paw jerked violently to the side. Eli froze. He had seen this before, in the forest. The birds. The twitching, the unnatural movement.
"Marley, no!" Eli shouted, trying to reach for him, but the dog lunged, moving faster than it should have been capable of. The coffee table tipped over with a crash, mugs shattering, and Marley's teeth sank into the wood, splintering it further.
Eli stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. Heart pounding, he grabbed a chair, swinging it as a barrier. Marley snarled, a sound that didn't belong to any dog he had ever known. Low, deep, almost human.
For a moment, Eli's mind raced. This couldn't be rabies—rabid dogs didn't move like this. Didn't coordinate attacks. Didn't think. And then it hit him: the birds. The yellow eyes. The unnatural twitching. The infection had jumped.
"Stay back, Marley! Stay back!" He backed into the hallway, trying to keep distance. The dog advanced steadily, paws moving silently against the floor. It stopped at the end of the hall, tilting its head, assessing him.
Eli's mind was spinning. He needed options. He needed weapons. But what did you do when the creatures you loved most turned into predators?
He remembered the knife in the kitchen drawer. Swiftly, he reached for it, hands trembling. Marley's growl deepened, a rumbling, almost purring sound that set Eli's teeth on edge.
"Eli… what's happening to him?" Andrew's voice called again, now from the hallway outside. Eli realized he had forgotten about him entirely.
He glanced toward the door. Andrew froze, eyes widening as he took in Marley's form. "Oh… God…"
Marley's head snapped toward the doorway, and without hesitation, he leapt. Andrew screamed, tripping backward, and Eli barely had time to swing the knife. The blade glanced off Marley's shoulder. There was a strange metallic clang, and the dog shook violently, growling with heightened ferocity.
Eli lunged, driving Marley back, but the dog moved too fast. Its movements were jerky but precise, predatory. It lunged again, catching Eli off guard. He stumbled into the wall, heart hammering, and realized something horrifying. This wasn't just a mindless animal.
It was aware.
The realization hit him like ice. The birds. Marley. This infection—it wasn't just contagious. It altered behavior, intelligence, instincts, maybe even malice.
He scrambled to the door, pulling Andrew up with him. "Get out!" he shouted. The two men bolted down the stairs, leaving the apartment in chaos behind them. From the window, Eli saw Marley standing at the threshold, chest heaving, eyes glowing yellow, watching them go.
Once outside, they ran without speaking. The street was empty. Birds circled high above, black shapes against the rising sun, their calls piercing and deliberate. Eli's mind raced, trying to make sense of what had happened.
"Eli… your dog…" Andrew started.
"I know," Eli said, his voice low, trembling. "It's… it's the infection. I saw it in the forest first. The birds… now him."
Andrew's face paled. "You mean… it's spreading?"
Eli nodded, swallowing hard. "And it's not just random. It's… smart. Coordinated. They're changing."
The two of them stumbled into a nearby park, seeking distance, seeking safety. But Eli's mind was already moving ahead. The birds, the infected animals—they were spreading. If Marley had been infected, how many others? Dogs? Cats? Wild animals in the forest?
He tried to push the fear down, to think logically. First step: contain the immediate threat. But how do you contain a dog that was once a friend and now thinks of you as prey?
Eli reached into his bag and pulled out the flare gun he always carried for emergencies. He had never fired it in anger, only to scare off bears or other wildlife during his expeditions. But now, trembling, he aimed it at Marley, who was still visible in the distance, pacing near his apartment building, eyes fixed on them.
He hesitated. The dog whined—a sound distorted, almost inhuman—and Eli's heart twisted. Marley's fur bristled, muscles tensing like coiled springs. Then, without warning, he darted forward, faster than anything a normal dog could manage.
Eli fired the flare. It hit Marley in the side, a loud crack echoing through the empty streets. The dog yelped—not a normal yelp, but a warped sound, somewhere between pain and anger. It paused, shook itself violently, and then charged again, ignoring the flare's searing heat.
"Damn it!" Eli shouted, firing again. The flare struck Marley's chest, knocking him back. He hit the pavement, skidding violently, but then rolled upright and advanced once more.
Eli's mind raced. He couldn't kill Marley—not like this. But he also couldn't let him attack anyone else. The dog's eyes reflected intelligence, hunger, and something else… something alien. It wasn't just infected. It was aware of its power.
Andrew tugged on his sleeve. "We can't stop it. We need to get out of the city. Now."
Eli hesitated. Every instinct screamed to flee, but he couldn't leave Marley behind. Not yet. Not until he understood what had happened. But rational thought overpowered attachment. The dog lunged again, and this time Eli barely dodged, feeling the hot breath of infection brush against him.
He grabbed a nearby trash can, flinging it at Marley to slow him down, then bolted down an alley. Andrew followed, and together they sprinted toward the outskirts, away from apartment complexes, away from the infected bird rookeries that had become visible on the rooftops.
Everywhere, movement. Dogs, crows, even squirrels and rats—small things that normally skittered and disappeared—were now moving unnaturally, watching, studying, waiting.
Eli's chest burned, his lungs heaving, but his mind was alight with possibilities. The infection was spreading faster than anyone could predict. And if it could reach Marley, it could reach anyone—humans included.
Finally, they collapsed behind a chain-link fence near the river, panting, bruised, shaken. Eli's camera bag was torn, his knife scratched and nicked. But the flare gun still hung at his side.
"We need to document this," Eli said, voice trembling. "If this spreads… if it jumps species… people need to know what we're facing."
Andrew nodded weakly. "God… it's worse than anything I've ever imagined."
Marley's yellow eyes appeared over the fence. He crouched low, muscles tensing, and let out a guttural, warped bark. Eli froze, feeling the old love and trust he had for his dog twist into fear and dread.
This wasn't his Marley anymore. Not in any sense that mattered.
And somewhere deep in the distance, the cawing started again. Not just Marley. Not just the birds. Something larger, organized, waiting, growing…
Eli realized with a sinking heart that the spark he had witnessed in the forest was now spreading into the human world.