Master of his heart (Max and Brielle)
Chapter 1342

The footsteps weren't fast or light. They were heavy, almost ominous.

Definitely

not Ricardo.

And not King either.

In the dim light, Brielle saw the figure approaching. It was the professor, his face horrifying, blood seeping from every orifice.

A chill shot down Brielle's spine, and she shot to her feet, pure instinct driving her to run.

The professor was infected.

This was beyond anything she could have anticipated.

But seeing Brielle seemed to ignite something in him; his already bloodshot eyes flared with a terrifying intensity as his lips twisted into a grotesque smile.

"Brielle, hahaha"

He staggered after her.

Brielle's heart pounded. She wasn't afraid of getting hurt, but the disease... it terrified her. If Fisher had come to this godforsaken place, it meant there was no cure. She'd heard about this illness back in school.

A 100% fatality rate. And now, the professor had it. If she got near him, she'd be done for.

Luckily, the infected professor was slower now, often stopping to retch, his bloodshot eyes locked on her as he followed.

In the late stages, the disease caused bleeding from every opening and spread through bodily fluids. Any contact with the professor's stuff could mean infection.

Sweat dripped down Brielle's forehead. She didn't dare look ahead, just sprinted through every corridor she found.

But the professor's footsteps echoed behind her, his laughter haunting the halls.

After what felt like a mile, Brielle hit a dead end. The footsteps grew closer. Her face turned white at the sight of the wall, with only one door beside her. Who knew what horrors lay beyond it, but she had no choice. Taking a deep breath, she turned the Knob and stepped inside

Immediately, her scalp prickled with dread. The room was filled with infected people, writhing like maggots, trapped in this space.

Seeing the women caged like

animals had been just a glimpse into

the darkness. Now, surrounded by these sick, imprisoned souls, Brielle felt a mix of disgust, powerlessness, and sorrow. en FindNovel

They were beyond help, the air thick with the stench of rotting flesh. This was Fisher's doing.

Leaning against the door, Brielle clutched the key, too scared to go back out. Outside was no safer; the professor might infect her on purpose. But those inside were too weak to pose a threat. Facing them, though, required overcoming immense psychological horror.

Her fingers retreated into her sleeves, afraid to touch anything. The walls, undoubtedly, had been touched by the infected.

But no sound came from the professor outside. If he'd followed her here, he would've called out.

After ten minutes of tense silence, Brielle cracked the door open. All was quiet.

The professor lay by the door, surrounded by a pool of blood.

Brielle froze, then cautiously stepped out. But the next second, a bloodied hand gripped her ankle. "Brielle, hehehe"

A shiver of pure terror ran through her. Staring at the bloodied hand, only one thought crossed her mind. Bodily fluids.

She was doomed.