DISCONTINUED [My Valentine]

Chapter Two

[Word Count, 3232|1st POV]

Pain. That's all that I felt when I woke up, finding myself on my stomach on the white cold floor. I grimaced when I moved, pushing myself off the floor and onto one of my knees and got into a kneeling position. A searing sting in the side of my abdomen, having a familiarity of being in this position before. That was until it hit me and my blood when cold... the wound, the place I woke up in, it all snapped into place. "No, no, no," I say out loud, stumbling into a hallway that reaches all the way to Section D but I didn't care about the section, all I needed to do was get into the med bay that was halfway down. Using the wall's tiled wall as support and leaving a few stains of blood that was painted on my hands from holding my wound, it all felt so real with everything I touch or walk on.

I saw the door slide open automatically when it sensed the presence of my tactical watch to let me in and staged inside, holding onto the first thing I saw which was a medical tray with surgical items and instruments. Before I moved any further inside, I glanced around the place for any of those undead creatures that I assumed roamed around the halls and rooms and counted three bodies. I picked up the scalpel from the tray and pushed the cart over to the otherside of the room where the doctor's office was and hopefully where I could get some information.

I let go of the medical tray and slowly stepped inside, scalpel in my hand as my eyes landed on the key to the information I needed. A computer. I rushed over to it which was a mistake due to my injury as a strike of shock went through my entire body. I groaned in pain, holding onto the desk to support myself and looked around for those special green herbs that are usually around the place and thank god that there was one next to the desk. I carefully reached down to grab a few of the leaves of the plant before crushing them up and tossing the crumbled medical plant into my mouth. A feeling of relief replaces the agony through my body. Placing my weapon down, I looked at the hole in my vest and gripped the edges of the hole with two my fingers, pulling it back so I could see the wound that started closing up by itself.

"Perfect," I say before removing my hand and focusing back on the computer in front of me.

"Please enter the password" The A.I. voice spoke through the speakers of the advanced tech of its age. I rack through my brain to see what passwords could work and start typing on the keyboard, then pressed enter. "Access denied. Please enter the correct password." I sigh and continue typing a different password that is commonly used by most of the umbrella computers but all ended with the same words.

"Access denied. Please enter the correct password." I scowled and entered another password.
"Access denied. Please enter the correct password." I tried again.

"Access denied. Please enter the correct password." And again.

"Access denied. Please enter the correct password." And again and again but still the same response.
"Access denied. Please enter the correct password."

"Work you piece of crap!" I shouted, hitting the side of the computer out of anger. The screen glitched out and at first, I thought I had broken the computer from the impact but the screen came back with the A.I. saying the following lines.

"Access Granted. Welcome, Dr Myers." The female robotic voice spoke and I smiled that I had gotten in by hitting things. I started typing on the keyboard and moved the mouse around until I got to the place I needed to be. September 31th, 1995. My eyes read and it confirmed my fears. I'm at the facility of my failed mission, but why? Before I could continue searching for more information, I heard an unnatural groan from behind me that caused me to freeze in fear. I quickly reached for the scalpel and turned around in time as the zombie had tried to attack, his hands and arm stretched out towards me as I tried to keep its head at bay from biting me. His jaw made chomping sounds and movements until I stabbed the scalpel into its head, directly in the brain of the undead creature. I pushed the threat away from me and it fell backwards, hitting the wall behind it and slumped over on the floor. I heard more groans coming from the other room and I searched around the room for the weapon, checking drawers and cabinets of the office hoping to find a gun that most doctors use to protect themselves in case of any emergencies or outbreaks.