The metallic echo of dripping water was the first thing Reyan heard.
*Plink… plink… plink…*
His eyes fluttered open to the sight of a dimly lit metro platform. The fluorescent tubes overhead flickered occasionally, humming like dying insects.
He sat up slowly, his head pounding. His backpack lay beside him. There were no people, no trains, no announcements—just silence, thick and unnatural.
"…Where am I?" he muttered, his voice echoing down the tunnel.
He stood, brushing off his jeans, and glanced at the wall clock. It was stuck at **12:07**. The second hand twitched but never moved forward. Every digital screen in the station displayed a single message:
> ❝ Service temporarily suspended ❞
He climbed the staircase toward the surface, expecting to find a crowd or at least a guard. But when he pushed through the turnstiles and stepped outside, his heart froze.
The city lay before him—**completely empty**.
Cars stood parked along the streets with doors wide open. A bicycle leaned against a pole, its wheels still spinning slowly. Cafés had half-drunk cups of coffee on their tables. Everything looked like people had vanished mid-sentence.
No voices. No footsteps. No birds.
Only the distant hum of the wind moving through empty streets.
Reyan's chest tightened. "This… doesn't make sense."
He pulled out his phone.
No signal. No Wi-Fi. Battery at 82%. The clock read **12:07**—same as the station clock. When he tried to call his parents, the screen glitched and flashed a message he'd never seen before:
> ❝ ERROR: CONNECTION LOST ❞
He walked cautiously down the street, passing familiar shops with lights still on. Somewhere, faint static crackled. He turned toward the sound and found a small convenience store with a dusty radio sitting on the counter.
The radio was **on**—but no one was there.
Through the static came a warped male voice, repeating over and over:
> ❝ Day 7. Don't stay outside after midnight. ❞
> ❝ Day 7. Don't stay outside after midnight. ❞
Reyan stared at it. "What… the hell?"
A chill ran through him. He suddenly noticed the faint shadows stretching unnaturally long under the dim light—even though it wasn't night yet.
He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, cracked it open, and drank. It was still cold. "This isn't a dream," he whispered to himself.
He stepped back onto the street and began moving toward the city center. Maybe he'd find someone—anyone.
---
🛒 The Encounter
By late afternoon, the sun hung low, casting an orange hue across empty buildings. Reyan's footsteps echoed louder than ever as he passed through an abandoned supermarket. Rows of products were untouched, cash registers mid-open, plastic bags scattered on the floor.
As he reached for a can of beans, a noise made him freeze.
**Clink.** A bottle rolled across the floor in a distant aisle.
He crouched, scanning the aisles through the shelves. At the far end, a figure moved—a girl with tied-back black hair, a dusty hoodie, and a serious look in her eyes. She held a crowbar in one hand and a sling bag in the other.
Their eyes met.
Her expression sharpened instantly. She raised the crowbar defensively.
Reyan lifted his hands. "Wait, wait! I'm not— I'm not dangerous!"
She didn't lower the weapon. "Stay where you are," she said, her voice steady but wary.
He froze. "I just woke up here. I don't even know what's going on."
She tilted her head, studying him like a puzzle piece that didn't fit. "What day is it for you?"
"What… day? It's Tuesday?"
She muttered under her breath. "He doesn't know…"
Then, aloud: "It's Day 7."
"Yeah, I heard that on the radio. What does it mean?"
"Not here," she said quickly. "We need to get out before it gets dark."
"Dark? Why?"
Before she could answer, the **lights in the supermarket flickered**. Once. Twice. Then the humming of electricity died, plunging the building into silence.
From outside, a **low, dragging sound** echoed down the street. Like something was being pulled along the asphalt.
The girl's face hardened. "It's starting."
"Starting what?" Reyan whispered.
She grabbed his wrist suddenly. "Run."
---
🌃 The First Night
They sprinted down the street as the sun dipped below the horizon. The streetlights flickered erratically, creating flashes of light and darkness that made the world feel like a broken film reel.
Behind them, Reyan heard something **mimicking their footsteps**.
When he ran faster—it ran faster. When he stopped for a second—it stopped too.
"Don't look back!" she hissed.
They turned into an old department store. She slammed the door shut, shoved a heavy shelf against it, and pulled him deeper inside. Both of them collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily.
For a moment, only their ragged breaths filled the silence.
Reyan looked at her. "What the hell is out there?"
She didn't answer right away. Her eyes were fixed on the darkened windows. Then she said softly, almost like a ritual:
> "Never stay outside after midnight. That's when they come closer."
"…They?"
She finally met his eyes. "You don't want to see them. Trust me."
They sat quietly for a while, listening to the distant scraping fade into the night.
Reyan finally broke the silence. "Who are you?"
"Mira," she said, without looking at him. "Been here since Day 3."
"Day 3? So you've been stuck here for days?"
"Yeah. And until today, I thought I was the only one left."
Reyan leaned back, trying to process everything. The flickering lights. The radio. The shadows. Mira. "This doesn't feel real," he murmured.
She gave a small, humorless laugh. "Yeah. I tried convincing myself it was a dream too. But pain's real here. Hunger's real. Fear's real."
Outside, something **banged** against the door—once. Twice. A long scrape followed.
Mira tightened her grip on the crowbar. Reyan's heart hammered.
The banging stopped. Silence returned.
Mira slowly lowered her weapon. "They won't break in tonight. Not if we stay quiet."
Reyan swallowed hard. "And tomorrow?"
She looked at him for the first time—not just with suspicion, but with a strange softness. "Tomorrow, we figure out how to survive Day 8."
---
🌌 End of Chapter 1
As Reyan lay on the cold floor of the department store that night, staring at the ceiling, questions swirled in his mind.
*Where did everyone go? What were those things outside? And why does that voice keep counting the days…?*
But the scariest question of all was the one that lingered in his chest as Mira silently sat near the window, keeping watch:
> *Why does this place feel like it's waiting for us?*