I sprinted through the halls of the abandoned College, frantically trying to find an open door. There was nothing; everything was solidly locked, and the dim lights were making it hard to see anything. I rounded a corner and almost collided with a bloated corpse. Its bulk was sprawled on the floor, swollen and leaking dark ichor.

Choking back my fear, I stepped over the thing and started to sprint again. Maybe the body would distract Them for a minute.

My name is Kera Walden. I am seventeen years old and a would-be senior in High School- "would-be" because the International Biological Weapons Crisis prevented me from entering my senior year. I'm relatively short, at about five foot five; I have close-cropped brown hair and I like to wear leather jackets. I tell you. Leather jackets have saved my life. But at the moment, I was wearing a beat-up baggy sweater, which probably wouldn't provide any protection at all..

I rounded another corner and was greeted by a new scene of carnage. The entire hallway was lined with lockers; and each locker was wide open, stuffed with some kind of drippy payload. By the looks of it, they were stuffed with... Oh god.

I briefly skidded to a halt and fought the feelings of nausea. What are those? ...Livers?

The sounds of soft plopping echoed through the hallway behind me, snapping me out of it. Gotta get out of here, I thought... I jogged through the slippery hall, trying hard to ignore the lockers on either side of me. Above all else, I had to avoid slipping. That was how my friend Chelsea had met her fate...

With a start, I spotted a tiny room on the left: It looked like a janitor's closet. The door was open.

There was just one really goddamn important question. Was the room safe?

The gentle plopping noises continued to approach. I had no choice. If I wanted to get out of this place alive, I had to hide somewhere and catch my breath back. I'd been running flat-out and was nearing the end of my strength.

I crammed myself into the tiny, dark room and tried to wrench the door shut. It wouldn't budge.

The plopping noises became louder.

Sh*t.

I gripped the handle with both hands and pulled with all my might. Nothing.

I gritted my teeth and swallowed the scream that was building up in my throat. I glanced up.

A broom handle was wedged right up against the hinge of the door. I jerked the broom away and yanked on the door handle again. This time, the door swung freely, shutting with a deafening slam and plunging the cramped room into complete darkness.

I crouched down and pressed my face against the vent in the door. Sweat trickled down the side of my face, and I nervously wiped it with the edge of my sweater-sleeve.

I had a pretty good view of the hallway floor from this vantage-point. I could still hear my heart pound. It had been a traumatic run, trying to escape from Them. I could only hope they didn't hear the door slam...

Oh sh*t.

Just outside the door, there was another barely-discernible plop.

Oh f***.

I creeped away from the door vent, praying they wouldn't detect my scent.

My prayers went unanswered. Because as I backed away, there was another faint plop, and a lime-green leopard frog hopped into view, screened by the vent in the door.

I rose to my feet, breathing quickly through my nose. I closed my eyes.

During the Biological Weapons Crisis, a bunch of countries started a war. The United States was part of it, of course. After several years of machine-based fighting, some Department of Defense guy decided to 'test' a 'new breed' of combative weaponry. That 'new breed' of combative weaponry triggered a nationwide bioweapon war, complete with airstrikes, bombings, and top-secret killing missions. In the process, the President disappeared and the entire Pentagon was fogged by a Viral Bomb, leaving no survivors. From there, the chaos just spread.

So, yeah. My Senior Year ended in chaos, with people dropping dead from the 'flu' left and right. That's how I lost my boyfriend Jareth. That's how I lost most of my friends. And that's what started my fight for survival, which eventually led me here, to the abandoned Newquark College... where I camped out in the kitchen with Chelsea and Sarah, only to be chased by a horde of poisonous, genetically-engineered leopard frogs. Chelsea, I knew, was dead. I have no idea where we lost Sarah.

To sum it all up, my life really sucks.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes again. The damn frogs were coming for me, those bastards. I had to get rid of them somehow.

I felt around the tiny janitor's closet for something to use against them. Brooms; there were a lot of those. They were gritty and wet with some kind of liquid. Hopefully not blood.

Next to the brooms was a cleaning-cart; it was filled with stinky water, probably from the janitor's absolute last cleaning round. Lovely.

I scrunched my nose and glanced back at the vent. The slender metal slats were about an inch apart, by the looks of it. Could a frog get through that space? I had no idea, but I wasn't taking any chances.

I moved my hand past the cart and brushed against something spongy and gross. It was soft, covered in a delicate fur-like coating.

Oh god. Now what the hell is that.

Ignoring my instincts, I gently poked a finger at the thing and almost screamed when a sticky-wet fluid seeped out. What the hell-

-I switched on the tiny LED of my wristwatch and pointed it at the thing. Goddamn it, another liver. And this one was covered in some kind of splotchy grey mold.

I felt like I had discovered the janitor's fate. Gross.

Why the hell were there so many livers around this part of the College? I sincerely hoped I wouldn't find out.

I continued to search. There had to be bleach somewhere around here...

Found it. I checked the label with my watch LED and grinned. Finally, I was getting somewhere.

The plopping noises were getting more frantic, more insistent. The frogs were desperately trying to enter my hideout. Those bastards. Probably couldn't wait to kill me.

I loosened the cap on the bleach and readied myself. You couldn't be merciful with creatures like them. The image of Chelsea flashed in my mind. Screaming, crying, getting hopped on by those nasty engineered leopard frogs. The instant one of them touched her skin, she started to swell up...

I gritted my teeth. A frog had scrunched itself between the slats of the vent. I uncapped the bleach and splashed it at the frog. There was a slight hiss and the frog slid out of the vent.

Victory! Haha, so damn simple. I felt a surge of sadistic glee.

Then, there was another hiss.

This one was pretty loud, and it was coming from further down the hallway.

I froze. The fumes from the bottle were making my eyes tear up, but I dared not move.

What the hell kind of thing was hunting me now?