10-There's Something in the Jungle

The storm raged on, its relentless fury drowning the world in darkness and sound. Sheets of rain lashed against the facility's perimeter, water cascading down the thick steel of the electrified fence. For years, the structure had held firm, a silent, unyielding guardian against what lay beyond. It stood tall even now, its metal ribs gleaming under the occasional flicker of lightning.

But deep within the facility, where wires and circuits snaked through unseen tunnels, something was failing. The storm had done more than just flood the jungle—it had reached inside, clawing at the systems meant to keep everything running.

The lights flickered once.

Then again.

Then, in one slow, final breath, the power died.

For a moment, the rain was the only sound. The wind howled through the gaps in the steel, rattling the fence ever so slightly. The silence that followed was unnatural, thick, expectant. Then—movement.

Dark shapes lurked at the tree line, barely visible through the downpour, shifting in and out of the shadows cast by the distant lightning. The storm had driven them here, but hesitation held them back. They knew this place. Knew its dangers.

One of them stepped forward.

A cautious, deliberate motion. It halted just before the towering fence, nostrils flaring, testing the air. The others followed, creeping closer, bodies shifting, muscles tensing.

They waited.

Then, with a single decisive movement, the first of them struck.

The impact reverberated down the length of the fence, a deep, metallic groan echoing through the rain-soaked night. The others followed suit—first with caution, then with purpose. A second impact. Then a third. Clawed feet dug into the mud for leverage as they threw their weight against the barrier.

A jolt of muscle memory made one hesitate, pulling back as if expecting a surge of electricity to lash out in retaliation. But nothing came.

The power was gone.

Something like understanding passed between them. And then—they hit harder.

The fence shuddered violently. Bolts strained. Metal shrieked. The rain beat down harder, drowning out the sounds of their effort, but the damage was being done. The struggle continued, bodies pressing against the weakened structure, determined.

A final, thunderous crack split the night.

The fence gave.

It didn’t collapse all at once, but in a slow, tortured descent, the upper sections sagging, metal twisting under its own weight before finally crumpling inwards. Water pooled at its base, splashing as the first of them stepped through, dragging clawed feet through the mud.

And just like that, the facility was no longer secure.

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