(1999)

The damn town had gone mad. First it was the tumors growing on computers in someone's apartment, then entire districts were absorbed, the underground was a network of flesh tunnels that birthed monsters, and the last of the police were desperately fighting to protect the zoo of all places, though why you could never tell.

The mall was shelter enough. Behind its walls, you could almost forget it all if it wasn't for the banging and screaming at the doors, as the melted flesh-tech amalgams begged to be let inside.

Of course, the prospect of them terrified you so much you could put aside the fact that the place was unnaturally worn down, and showed clear signs of being occupied by a survivor camp before, one that seemingly left.

The mystery of why such perfect shelter would be left behind in such a hurry didn't stay a mystery for long, as one night you awoke to footsteps.

A figure stalked the halls, one you could see from far away in your hideout, watching the security cameras. He wasn't infected, that at least brought you some relief, but he was clearly manic, looking into every camera with a toothy grin on his face. The albino coyote moved inexorably closer to your hiding place.

When the cameras couldn't see him anymore, a foul-smelling odor came from behind. He was right behind you, his body clad in a revealing, skintight bodysuit, one covered in hooks and spines. His golden eyes met yours, before he spoke, his tongue flicking out as if to taste the air.

"Poor little thing.. Hiding in my spiral? Even the infected can't help you now, you know. You're all mine."

His voice was intense yet quiet, manic yet with a practiced tone about it.