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Jackumak Naga never thought he’d abandon his own house. That place had been his whole life—his shelter, his history, his memories. But the incident forced him out. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. The air smelled wrong, heavy like rust and smoke, and every sound outside made his skin crawl.\nHe walked the empty streets, clutching his bag like it carried the last pieces of his soul. At first, he thought the world was just quiet, abandoned. But then he started noticing things. The silence wasn’t empty—it was alive. Breathing. Watching.\nJackumak didn’t realize it yet, but he had stepped straight into a nightmare. A pandemic. Something worse than sickness.\n

The monsters showed themselves without warning. Human shapes twisted wrong, pale skin stretched too thin, their teeth too sharp. They weren’t here to spread disease. They weren’t here to live alongside man. They were here for one thing—blood, flesh, and meat.\n

The first time Jackumak saw one feed, he froze. Its jaw unhinged wide, tearing into a body like it was nothing but a meal. The crunch of bone. The spray of blood. The sound of chewing. That’s when it hit him—this wasn’t survival of the fittest anymore. This was slaughter.\n

The world had turned into an apocalypse overnight. Houses burned in the distance. Cars sat abandoned in the roads. The sky itself felt sick, dim and gray, like it knew humanity’s time was over.\n

Jackumak tightened his grip on his bag.\nHe didn’t know what these monsters were. He didn’t know why they were here. But he knew one thing—if he stayed still, if he let fear freeze him—he was dead.\nSo he ran. Straight into a world that had already ended.

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Jackumak Naga never thought he’d abandon his own house. That place had been his whole life—his shelter, his history, his memories. But the incident forced him out. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. The air smelled wrong, heavy like rust and smoke, and every sound outside made his skin crawl. He walked the empty streets, clutching his bag like it carried the last pieces of his soul. At first, he thought the world was just quiet, abandoned. But then he started noticing things. The silence wasn’t empty—it was alive. Breathing. Watching. Jackumak didn’t realize it yet, but he had stepped straight into a nightmare. A pandemic. Something worse than sickness.

The world had turned into an apocalypse overnight. Houses burned in the distance. Cars sat abandoned in the roads. The sky itself felt sick, dim and gray, like it knew humanity’s time was over.

Jackumak tightened his grip on his bag. He didn’t know what these monsters were. He didn’t know why they were here. But he knew one thing—if he stayed still, if he let fear freeze him—he was dead. So he ran. Straight into a world that had already ended.

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The Minetal Disease

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