The gunshot never came.
I kept my eyes closed a moment longer, afraid to look into the eyes of my killer.
"It's safe, you can open your eyes," The doctor's fatherly voice called to me from across the room. It sounded strained.
I opened one eye, and saw the orderly and the doctor straining to hold the security guard back.
There was pounding on the door again, but they were too preoccupied with the guard who just kept yelling, "You killed my wife! You're a monster! You shouldn't be alive!"
I was starting to think that he was right.
The pounding got louder, and the door started to look less sturdy, but the doctor and the orderly were too busy trying to keep the crazed man back.
Something punched a hole in the door, and a gray hand pushed its way through the splintered opening. Cuts from the wood broke open its arm, and black ooze dripped down the door.
More pounding ensued, and more holes appeared. The security guard stopped struggling, and directed his gun at the door, shooting at the hands.
Fingers were shot off, and ooze splattered the door. The hands didn't stop moving, and eventually the door fell off its hinges, unable to take anymore of the abuse.
Gray figures flooded in, some with limps, some with dislocated arms hanging low, and all were emitting a deep, low, unearthly groan.
It was like something straight out of a horror movie.
They moved, slowly, towards the trembling men in the corner, the security guard had stopped firing and was now sobbing and saying what sounded like, "No more bullets, no more bullets" over and over while trying to back further into the wall.
The doctor screamed at me, "Heal them! The cure is in the injection closet! Save them before its too late!"
The horde closed in on them, and after a lifetime of squelching noises and screams, the figures turned to me, and as I looked at the mangled bodies of the men who had saved me from the fate of the creatures in my room, I shuddered and hoped they wouldn't turn into the monsters that had devoured them.
The security guard was missing his arm and his eyes, fresh blood draining from his body, his clothes ripped along with the skin beneath them. I could see his ribs. His head was gaping open, and the gray ooze I saw inside must have been what was left of his brain.
The orderly's head was in one of the zombie's hands, his hair locked in a deathgrip and cheek dragging on the floor, as the zombie was hunched over and his arm was dislocated. The orderly's body was a mess of blood, bones and black goo.
The doctor was worst of all. His chest was opened, you could see all his organs, or rather, where his organs should have been. His ribs stuck out at odd angles, his legs bent ways I never even thought possible, and half his skull was missing.
His bright blue eyes were wide open, glazed over. His hair caked with black and red.
I shuddered to think that this man, who so wanted to help me and those like me, had been killed by the very creatures he was trying to save.
He deserved better.
It made me sick.
One of the zombies turned to me, and growled to his compainions.
They walked over, and as I prepared myself to be eaten like the others, I realized the restraints were being undone.
The zombies looked at me, smiled a grisly smile, and left the room, moaning in their inhuman way again.
YOU ARE READING
Patient Zero
HororWhen Darren Statler awakes, he has no idea what's going on. He's restrained to the hospital bed he's in, and someone seems to have just been killed outside his door. He prays this is a nightmare and tries to wake up, but what awaits him when he open...
