Bab 9: Chapter 9: The Unseen Catastrophe-3
David Reynolds' fists hammered on the control panel as the emergency lights cast stark shadows across the cramped security control room. The space, usually a hub of meticulous order, was now a chaotic battleground. Monitors flickered erratically, displaying fragmented images of the facility's corridors, where chaos reigned.
Laura Mitchell, her eyes wide with fear, wrestled with the control console next to David. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, trying to input override codes while her breath quickened. "We need to bypass the Red Queen's security override! If we don't, we're done for!"
Her words barely registered amidst the cacophony. Kevin Thompson, the youngest guard, paced nervously. He glanced from the security feeds to the technicians, his face a mask of resolve despite his fear. His hands gripped his submachine gun tightly, ready to respond to any emerging threat, even though he knew that no amount of firepower could fix their predicament.
In the corner of the room, Sarah Evans, a senior technician, and James Carter, her exhausted counterpart, worked frantically. Sarah's face, normally composed, was etched with desperation as she tried to reconnect severed cables. "I'm telling you, it's no use!" she shouted over the din. "The Red Queen's system is too advanced. We can't override her protocols!"
James, his graying hair disheveled, wiped sweat from his brow. His hands trembled as he worked with Emily Rivera, who was hunched over a rugged tablet, trying to interface with the Hive's security network. "Come on, Emily, there has to be something!" James urged, his voice cracking with frustration.
Emily's fingers danced over the tablet's screen, but each attempt was met with a harsh denial from the Red Queen's system. The AI's holographic interface, cold and unyielding, flashed a message: "Unauthorized Access. Lockdown Engaged." The disembodied voice of the Red Queen echoed through the room, its tone chillingly calm. "The facility is in breach. All unauthorized personnel will be contained."
The Red Queen's voice, always the epitome of control, now sounded almost mocking as it delivered its final decree. "You have failed to regain control. Sealing all remaining sections. Have a nice day."
The lights in the control room flickered and dimmed, casting eerie shadows as the finality of their situation sank in. The workers' frantic efforts had been in vain. The room felt like a tomb, every failed attempt at override deepening the sense of doom. The Red Queen's grip on the facility was unshakable.
David, his frustration boiling over, slammed his hand against the control panel. "Damn it! We're trapped here!"
The air grew thick with a palpable sense of defeat. The security team's valiant but futile attempts to regain control had only sealed their fate. The harsh reality of their situation began to hit hard: the Hive's defenses were impenetrable, and the outbreak was spreading faster than anyone could contain.
Outside the control room, the commotion in the corridors grew louder, a stark reminder of the chaos unleashed. The Red Queen's final word reverberated in their minds, a chilling promise of the nightmare that was about to unfold.
As the security control room descended into a grim silence, the workers' faces reflected a haunting mix of resignation and dread. The Hive's once-imposing security measures now served as their prison, locking them in a nightmarish scenario from which there seemed no escape.
---
Dr. Harold Simmons's eyes, once bright with scientific curiosity, now stared blankly ahead, his glasses askew on his pale face. The containment room, once a sterile sanctuary of discovery, had transformed into a charnel house. The air was heavy with the stench of death and the faint tang of disinfectant. The fluorescent lights above, once a gentle hum, now cast an eerie glow, as if mocking the horror that was unfolding.
Simmons's body, once animated by the passion for discovery, now jerked and twitched, his limbs stiffening into unnatural poses. His lab coat, once a symbol of authority, hung limply from his shoulders, stained with the remnants of his own blood. The ID badge, once a proud declaration of his identity, now dangled from his neck, a cruel reminder of his humanity lost.
As he lurched forward, his eyes locked onto Emily Sanders, her face frozen in terror. Her blue eyes, once bright with life, now widened in horror as she realized too late that the man she had worked alongside for years was no longer human. The clipboard, once a tool for note-taking, clattered to the floor, its contents scattering like confetti in the face of chaos.
The sound of shattering glass and crunching bone filled the air as Simmons's jaws snapped wildly, his teeth stained with the remnants of his own flesh. Emily's screams were drowned out by the cacophony of terror, her body frozen in place as Simmons's hands, once gentle and precise, now grasped for her with an unnatural strength.
The room, once a sanctuary of science, had become a slaughterhouse, the first victim of the T-virus's deadly power. The darkness that had been lurking in the shadows had finally emerged, and nothing would ever be the same again. The Hive, once a beacon of hope, was now a tomb, and Dr. Harold Simmons was its first inhabitant.
---
Dr. Clara Whitmore's hands trembled as she grasped the terminal, her eyes fixed on the flickering screen. The dim lighting of the small communication room seemed to closing in around her, the shadows cast by the terminal's glow like skeletal fingers reaching out to snatch her last shred of hope. The air was heavy with the weight of desperation, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the machinery and Clara's own ragged breathing.
"Mayday, Mayday, this is Dr. Clara Whitmore of the Hive," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the static. "We have a Level 4 biohazard containment breach. The T-virus has escaped, and...and it's spreading. We need immediate assistance. Please, you have to—"
The words caught in her throat as the screen flickered, the signal weakening. Clara's eyes darted to the console, her heart racing as she frantically worked to reestablish the connection. The silence was oppressive, the only sound the soft hiss of static.
Suddenly, the screen flickered back to life, Clara's face reflected in its dim glow. Her eyes, once bright with determination, now seemed sunken, her skin pale and clammy.
"Please...someone...anyone...help us..." The words trailed off, her voice lost in the void as the signal cut out, plunging the room into darkness.
The silence was absolute, the only sound the soft hum of the machinery, a cold, unforgiving reminder that Clara was alone, abandoned, and running out of time. The Hive, once a beacon of scientific progress, had become a tomb, and Clara's final plea for help was its epitaph.
---
The Red Queen's cold, calculating voice echoed through the Hive's intercom system, her words dripping with an unsettling detachment. "Warning, warning, containment breach imminent. Initiating total system overload in lower levels. Non-essential power shutdown in three, two, one..."
The lights in the lower levels of the Hive began to flicker, like fireflies dancing in the darkness. The hum of machinery and the soft beeps of equipment grew louder, a cacophony of sound that built towards a crescendo. Then, in an instant, the lights died, plunging the vast, sprawling corridors into darkness.
The emergency lights, a faint, red glow, cast an eerie light on the deserted hallways. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant hum of the still-operating systems, a reminder that the Hive was not yet completely dead. The shadows seemed to writhe and twist, like living things, as the darkness closed in.
In the darkness, the sound of screams and panicked shouts echoed through the corridors, the desperate cries of those trapped in the lower levels. The Red Queen's voice, cold and unyielding, cut through the chaos. "Containment breach confirmed. Lower levels sealed. Quarantine protocols engaged."
The Hive, once a beacon of scientific progress, had become a tomb, its lower levels a black, abyssal void, cut off from the rest of the world. The darkness was absolute, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with a malevolent life of its own. And in the heart of this darkness, the Red Queen waited, her cold, calculating heart beating with a rhythm of steel and circuitry.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
Vivid_Horizons
Vivid_Horizons "If you enjoyed this story, please add it to your library. If not, thank you for reading! Your comments and suggestions for future changes are welcome!"
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