Surviving the Apocalypse with my Multiplier System-Chapter 216: The Fate of the Barclays

(A/N: a bit of a dark chapter, might be disturbing to some)

At the government base, Mr. and Mrs. Barclay ran out of their apartment to find their daughter. She had started acting strangely and suddenly ran out in the middle of the night.

Samantha had followed behind her, saying she would bring her home, but it had been hours now, and no one had come back.

"Layla! Layla, honey, where are you?!" they yelled, running around.

Something felt off—no one was outside, and there were hardly any sounds in the vicinity.

"Where do you think she could have gone?" asked Mrs. Barclay, her voice filled with worry.

Her husband thought for a moment. "Maybe she went to the market again? Let’s check there."

Mrs. Barclay nodded. Her daughter loved shopping, so it was a good place to start.

However, as they got closer to the center of the base, a horrifying scene unfolded before them.

Hundreds of people, covered in blood, were clawing at each other, seemingly oblivious to the injuries on their own bodies.

"What!? What is happening?!" screamed Mrs. Barclay.

She could barely tolerate the sight of blood—she had even fainted once when she accidentally cut her finger.

Mr. Barclay also froze in shock at the scene. How had everyone ended up like this?

"Layla... where’s Layla?!" Mrs. Barclay screamed.

Her cries attracted the attention of a few nearby people. They turned toward her, their eyes filled with a terrifying mix of hunger and hatred.

Mrs. Barclay saw the menacing look in their eyes and took a few steps backward. Her body trembled with fear—she couldn’t understand what was happening or why everyone looked so... evil.

As she continued to step back, she bumped into something. Turning around, she gasped—a bloodied person with deep gashes all over their body was staring at her with hungry eyes.

"Ahh!" she screamed in fright—until she took a closer look.

The bloodied person, the one with chunks of hair ripped out and deep wounds covering their body was her daughter.

"Layla! What happened?! Are you okay?!" she screamed even louder.

Mrs. Barclay grabbed her by the arm, trying to pull her away from the chaos, but Layla wouldn’t budge. She stood still, unmoving, like a statue.

"Layla, we need to move!" pleaded Mrs. Barclay, still pulling on her daughter, all while keeping an eye on the others, who were slowly creeping closer.

Mr. Barclay rushed over, using all his strength to drag his wife and Layla a few steps away.

But something was wrong. Layla’s gaze was unsettling, almost inhuman. Mr. Barclay quickly let go.

"She’s possessed! I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to get out of here!" he shouted.

"No! I’m not leaving my precious daughter here alone! Look at her—she’s injured!" Mrs. Barclay screamed, refusing to abandon Layla.

Her hesitation gave the approaching crowd more time to close in. When she finally realized the danger, she tried to turn and run back to their apartment—

But suddenly, Layla reached out and grabbed her.

"Layla, honey! We need to run!" she pleaded.

Mr. Barclay was also caught in Layla’s grasp, struggling desperately to break free.

"Let go of me! Let go!" he yelled, but no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t escape her grip.

They were both trapped, as if chained to the ground, unable to take another step back.

"Layla! Please, let go!" her mother screamed, tears streaming down her face.

But deep down, she knew—this was the end.

The surrounding people finally closed in, their ravenous eyes locked onto them.

Mrs. Barclay looked up at the sky, cursing Julian in her mind. If it weren’t for him, they would still be safe in their shelter!

If he hadn’t been handing out their supplies, they never would have come here looking for him!

"I wish I never had you!" she screamed into the sky, pouring out all her resentment—

As Layla, along with the others, began tearing them apart.

The screams quickly faded, leaving behind only the sounds of ripping flesh and shredded clothing.

---

A few days later…

Cal and the scientist’s assistant had barely made it back to the underground base. They were found by one of Damien’s scout teams and brought back as captives.

"Hey! Get me out of here! I’m on Runner Team, led by Boss Dillon! I demand you let me out!" shouted Cal.

He realized he must have passed out at some point—either from exhaustion or dehydration.

The guard in charge of the captives laughed. "Haha, this guy’s pretty clever! There’s no way I’m letting you out, buddy."

Cal kicked the cell bars in frustration—only to fall backward from the recoil.

The guard burst out laughing, then left to tell his friends about the new idiot they had captured.

The scientist’s assistant sat quietly in the corner, looking at Cal with a sorrowful expression.

"I tried reasoning with them earlier," he said. "Told them I was part of the lab team on the lower floors. They just laughed in my face."

Cal had never realized how unruly these people could be! He had clearly stated his team name and even his leader’s name—they should have at least checked before completely dismissing him.

He looked around the cell, taking in the frightened faces of the other captives. They stared at him, their eyes filled with fear.

One of the braver men glanced around, making sure no guards were nearby.

"Hey, man, I get that you wanna get out of here, but at least come up with a more believable story," he whispered. "Last time someone lied to them, we all got no food for three days."

Cal wanted to slam his head against the brick wall of the cell.

"Why does no one ever believe me?!" he groaned.

He had vital information to deliver—yet now he was being held captive by his own team.

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Cal knew that Dillon would actually kill him if he delayed passing along this vital information. The government base had been taken over, and now crazed cannibals were free to roam.

"Hey! Get me out of here! I need to relay important information!" he continued to shout and bang his hands against the cell.

After a few minutes of nonstop ruckus, one of the guards finally came over. "Listen here, buddy. We heard you the first time. Now if you don’t shut up, we’ll shut you up ourselves."

"Listen, I have really, really important information. I NEED to pass it along to my leader, I beg of you to at least verify my identity," begged Cal.

The guard yawned. "No offense, but verifying that kind of stuff takes a lot of time and effort, and I happen to be really tired. So just keep your mouth shut, and maybe when I’m in a better mood, I’ll put in a good word for you."