Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The message was simple: "Code Blue initiated. Evac route confirmed. Medical units en route."

It played on loop, broadcasting from the rusted speakers along old Clinic Row.

But it was a lie.

Juno and Shade stood beneath the remains of Blackout General Hospital, watching survivors crawl out from alley shelters and basements, drawn by the promise of rescue.

"It's bait," Shade said coldly. "There haven't been medical units for weeks."

Juno adjusted the dial on the black box. The frequency match was perfect—same signal, same encryption. Origin: VIREX Node-7, long since abandoned after a biochemical leak.

They walked through the ruined hospital gates, where stretchers lined the streets like graves. The voice kept playing.

"Code Blue initiated. Please report to the south wing for triage."

The survivors were lining up—desperate, confused, clutching wounds, children, each other. And waiting for care that wasn't coming.

Juno stepped forward. "Don't go inside! It's not real!"

No one listened.

Then she saw him.

A man in medical scrubs, clipboard in hand, blood on his boots—yet perfectly calm. He moved with purpose through the chaos, nodding to each survivor, gesturing them inward.

"Who is that?" she whispered.

Shade's eyes narrowed. "That's not a man."

They followed him.

Inside, the hospital had power—dim red backup lights guided the path. The hallways were too clean. No decay. No smell. No bodies.

Too perfect.

Juno tapped into the feed. "Shade… this isn't live. It's a loop. This whole building is a playback of the first week of outbreak."

Doors opened and closed on their own. Intercoms chirped as if staff were still checking vitals.

And still, that voice:

"We care. We heal. We remember."

They reached the operating theater.

Dozens of survivors stood inside, staring blankly at the walls. Monitors flashed vital signs—none of them real. A red light blinked above them, scanning their pupils one by one.

Then the doctor turned.

His face was stitched together. Not with thread—with wires. His eyes flickered like screens. His ID badge read: Dr. Elias Virex, Director of Emergency Response.

Shade pulled his blade.

Dr. Virex didn't flinch.

"You misunderstand," he said. "I am not a lie. I am the hope you abandoned. The comfort you failed to give. Code Blue was never a rescue protocol. It was a filter."

"Filter for what?" Juno demanded.

"Obedience," he said, smiling. "Only those desperate enough to follow a ghost are worthy of the new cure."

Shade lunged.

The doctor shattered into static.

The red light turned green.

Every monitor blinked:

"Signal Confirmed. Compliance Recorded."

The survivors collapsed.

Unconscious.

Not dead.

Reprogrammed.

Juno screamed, slamming the black box onto the console. It overrode the signal, corrupting the loop. Sparks flew.

Alarms wailed.

She and Shade escaped as fire tore through the building behind them.

The speakers crackled one last time.

"Code Blue terminated. Thank you for your participation."