germophobia/ˌdʒəːməˈfəʊbɪə/noun
extreme fear of germs and obsession with cleanliness.
It was so simple.
Mark ran his hands under the cold water, the soap washing off. Clean. He felt unclean. For whatever reason, he felt unclean. He hadn't even done anything to make his hands dirty. Mark turned the tap off. Not enough. NOT ENOUGH. Mark turned the tap back on and started to pump some more soap onto his hands, scrubbing and rubbing every crevice of his hand. Palms, under nails, between fingers, wrists.
Mark turned the tap off again. An itching feeling in him screamed that he wasn't clean enough yet. Mark brushed it off, furrowing his eyebrows as he made his way to his rotary phone. He dialed up a number. Cesar's number. As Mark waited for Cesar to pick up, his eyes traced along the old yellowed walls that were once white. Mark gagged. Just as he was about to end the call, Cesar picked up.
"Hey. It's Mark."
"Hey Mark!" Cesar sounded happy over the phone. Mark couldn't help but smile before an itch in the back of his throat forced out raspy coughs. "Mark?? Are you okay, camarada??" Mark nodded. "Hello??" Cesar asked again. Oh wait. Cesar couldn't see him nod over the phone. Mark had to resist the urge to cough again as he placed a hand on his throat. "Y-yeah..I'm just sick..." Mark said quietly over the phone. Sarah was at a friend's house for a sleep over and he didn't want Sarah to worry about him and just enjoy. "Up bup bup! Stay in bed, I'll bring you soup!" Cesar playfully scolded Mark.
"Alright. Thanks, Ces." Mark's voice was extremely hoarse. His throat felt like it was on fire and it was scratchy. "Be there in 10!! Bye!!" Cesar ended the call, leaving Mark in silence now. Mark leaned on the wall, sliding down as he still held the phone in his hand. He had heard about an unknown virus being spread around that does some real shit to people, but Mark felt that his immune system was good enough. He had been working out a lot, eating fruits and vegetables, drinking about 8 glasses of water today, getting enough sunlight and fresh air, he felt healthy.
A grimace crept upon his face as he realised it was probably because he pet a cat a while back. First this stupid alternate invasion, now this disease? Mark groaned. He'd get better. He hoped he would.
________________________________________________________________
"Ads."
"Yeah?"
Adam and Jonah were sitting in their van, currently on the run. They had driven to a secluded place in the forest. They were now both eating cheap pizza from a run down old pizzeria that wasn't doing very well. They sat in their van as they enjoyed their peace. Until Jonah looked out the window.
"What the fuck is outside the van." Jonah's voice was below a whisper. Adam froze. He leaned forward, looking at Jonah's side of the window.
Holy. Shit.
Whatever the fuck it was, it wasn't human. Elongated mouth, wide eyes, microscopic pupils, exposed teeth, melting flesh and blood trails left in it's wake.
"Jonah. Drive." Adam grabbed the shotgun in the back seat. Jonah didn't need to be told twice before he grabbed the wheel and stepped on the gas pedal. The thing made chase as it ran. It wasn't any slower than a human but it still ran averagely fast. The same speed a human can run. The two sped away until they couldn't see the thing anymore.
"What was that..?" Jonah squeezed the steering wheel tight, his hands shaking. "I don't know, Jon. But it's not a good sign. We should stock up on some stuff now, yeah?" Adam comfortingly pat Jonah's shoulder, Jonah taking a deep breath in. "..Right. Let's go."
