The Crimson Virus: Final Stand

It was a night filled with fog. Distant sounds of gunfire had barely dissipated when Reynolds and Hayes, as well as the rest of the team, pushed on, for this was no time to waste: Grant had brought all their earlier trust crashing down. They would not be able to stay there forever; they must put a stop to him before he could get Mercer into the new gun.

“Any sign of him?” Reynolds asked, his voice rough as they crouched behind a wall, watching the compound ahead.

Hayes shook her head, her eyes scanning the shadows. “Nothing yet, but he’s here. He has to be.”

Reynolds clenched his jaw. “He’s playing us. But we can’t let him win. We stop Mercer, we stop the virus, and we stop whatever twisted plan Grant thinks he’s building.”

The tension hung so thick it made the air between them. Any corner they turned could conceal a trap. Every shadow may harbor an enemy. But there was no going back. Now there was no place for hesitation.

The humming grew louder as they approached the building. It was machinery, but not their machinery. It was coming from inside the facility. The weapon, the virus, the horrors of the last few days—it all led here.

They reached the entrance, and Reynolds gave a signal for the team to spread out. Hayes moved to the left, while Reynolds and the others positioned themselves near the door. With a swift motion, Reynolds kicked it open, revealing a long hallway lined with metal doors and harsh fluorescent lights.

The silence was eerie.

“We’re too late,” muttered Lieutenant Collins, his voice barely audible. “Look at this place… it’s too quiet.”

“No, “Reynolds replied, shaking his head. “Grant’s here. Mercer’s here. Both are waiting”

He went forward, wary but resolute. Each step was measured, each noise magnified. They went through several rooms of complicated machinery and storage tanks, each more ominous than the last. It wasn’t until they entered the main laboratory, however, that they saw their first sign of life: armed guards, standing loosely outside a large reinforced door.

Without a word, Reynolds motioned for the team to take them out silently. In perfect synchronization, they moved in, neutralizing the guards one by one. The quiet efficiency of the operation spoke volumes—they were professionals, each move a testament to their training.

But the door was locked. Reynolds got up and came to it and tried the handle. It didn’t open. The man’s expression was grim. He pulled out his tool kit and began tinkering with the lock. Each second ticked by as they set up their perimeter, all of them waiting for what was surely going to come.

And then, there was the sound.

A faint beep followed by a soft hiss.

“Get ready,” Reynolds called out. The door slid open, and a chamber laden with piercing white light enlarged to fill the space. In the center of the room stood Grant, positioned near the containment unit, accompanied by Mercer’s personal bodyguards.

“So, you’ve tracked me down,” Grant said, his voice detached and cold. He didn’t look at Reynolds once, keeping all his attention on the containment unit.

“Grant!” Reynolds shouted, his voice rising with fury. “You’ve gone too far!”

Grant finally turned to face him, and for the first time, there was a flicker of emotion in his eyes. “It’s already too late, Marcus. You’re too late.”

Reynolds’s gaze followed Grant’s to the containment unit. Inside, suspended in a clear tank, was a human figure. But it wasn’t just any figure. It was a specimen, deformed and grotesque, its skin a mottled greenish color, its eyes lifeless and empty. The creature inside was a product of the virus—an unnatural abomination that had been engineered to serve as the foundation for the new weapon.

“This is your doing?” Hayes asked, her voice trembling with disgust.

Grant nodded. “This is the future, the dawn of a new era. The Crimson Virus is evolving. It adapts, it grows stronger, and once it’s released, nothing will stop it.”

“No,” Reynolds said, his voice darkening. “You’re wrong. You’re playing god with people’s lives, and it’s not going to happen.”

He suddenly moved forward, drawing his weapon. In the next instant, a firefight erupted. Gunshots and staccato automatic fire filled the chamber, reverberating off the steel walls. Hayes and Collins moved fast, taking out the bodyguards, but Grant and Mercer were elusive, slipping into the shadows, always one step ahead.

“Grant, this ends now!” Reynolds yelled, but his words were drowned out by the noise of battle.

Grant’s voice came from the darkness. “It’s already over, Marcus. You can’t stop what’s coming.”

But Reynolds wasn’t going to give up. Not now, not after everything. His team was with him, and they would fight to the end.

As the last of the bodyguards hit the ground, Reynolds and Hayes surged forward and cornered Grant beside the control panels. He breathed hard, his face contorted, but he was far from done. “You think you can stop this?” he sneered. “You think you can change the course of history?”

Reynolds’s answer was not complex. He pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed, and time stood still for a moment.

Grant hit the ground, twitching a little before becoming lifeless.

However, that would have to wait. Mercer was still loose in the city and the virus had not been defeated. The mission was far from over. It was not done yet.