Death After Death (#2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Joey's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the blinding light pouring from directly above. He raised a hand to shield himself from the glare, only to recoil in dizzying pain. His entire left arm seized up in a barrage of agony, like pins were being driven deep into the bones. He tried his right arm, with similar throbbing results.   

Glancing down towards his feet at the end of the bed, Joey began to sweat as he noticed that his entire body was bandaged, head to foot, like an Egyptian king ready to be mummified. He had no recollection of what had happened. The last thing he could remember was talking to Max in the boiler room, but how had he ended up here?

"Ah, I see you're finally awake. You gave us quite the scare there, Joey," Doctor Saunders smiled as he took a seat next to the hospital bed.

"What, w-where am I?" Joey stuttered.

"You're in the hospital. Don't worry, a slightly groggy memory is perfectly normal for someone who has gone through your kind of...ordeal," Doctor Saunders explained delicately.

Joey didn't like that word, in fact, it terrified him, "What do you mean, ordeal?"

"All in good time, let's get those bandages off you first aye? I have to say, you've healed up very nicely, all things considered."

Joey had too many questions flooding through his hazy mind, he needed to find answers, "How long have I been out?"

"It's been around three days since I found you," Saunders explained as he carefully unwound the fabric encasing Joey's right foot.

"You found me? Where? At the house?"

"Joey, there will be time for questions, trust me, but for now, we just need to make sure you're healthy, okay?"

He couldn't stop his mind racing, but Joey nodded in agreement as the Doctor continued unfurling.

With every loop of the unravelling, the bandages revealed yet another deep gash, blackened cut or dirty yellow bite mark. His skin was a canvas of pain and horror, not an inch left preserved or blank.

His leg was littered with teeth marks, recently healed but still oozing puss at the faintest touch. The Doctor unwound the second leg to similar gasps and sobs from his patient.

Joey was convinced that it couldn't get any worse, but that state of his stomach and chest quickly disproved that faint hopeful prayer.

A sickeningly deep cut zig-zagged across his belly, as if he'd been carved open by a long, jagged finger nail. The stitch marks appeared hurried, probably in a desperate attempt to prevent further blood loss. His sides were like rotten apple cores, purpled with bruises, and yellowed with infection. There were more bites than he could count, with visible chunks of flesh missing, presumably eaten by whatever animal had done this.

Joey's mind flashed back. Teeth. Claws. Nails. Biting, so much biting. Blood. Splattering. Hands tugging at loose flesh. Struggling. Darkness.

He remembered them. The clickers, the world, all the death. He never thought he'd be jealous of the man he was a few moments before, but he was. He wished he could forget, but he couldn't.

Joey squeezed his eyes shut, as tight as he could in an attempt to shut the images out, but they remained, as if painted onto the back of his eye lids in thick oil.

"I understand this must be traumatic for you, but you must understand how lucky you are to still be with us. Frankly, it's a miracle."

Joey's eyes flicked back open sharply, "A miracle, a fucking miracle? Look at me, I'm a fucking monster!"

"But that's just the thing, Joey, you're not. You're not one of them. You didn't change, you're still alive!"

"Hand me a mirror," Joey growled.

"I'm not sure that's such a goo-"

Joey winced through the pain as a grabbed Doctor Saunders by the scruff of his lab coat, "Get me a fucking mirror!"

His screams echoed around the empty ward as the doctor stumbled off to fetch a mirror for him.

The fear in Saunders' eyes had been empowering, like a shot of adrenaline through Joey's veins. He didn't look alive, but he sure did feel like it now.

Saunders returned with a hand mirror trembling between his fingers, "Joey, you have to understand, the healing process is far from complete, it will improve a tremendous amount."

"You better hope it does," Joey hissed as he snatched the mirror.

He took a deep breath before raising it to eye level, then he froze. He stopped breathing, the blood in his veins stopped pumping, everything in the room just stopped for a moment as he took in the blood-curdling reflection staring back at him.

His face was a mixture of unblended blacks, yellows and purples, like an unfinished painting in a horror collection. Chunks of flesh were missing from his cheeks, replaced by a maze of visible muscles and tendons, tensing as he winced at his own image.

His hair was patchy, and his scalp shone a sore red from where the hair had been torn from its roots.

He was scared. He was petrified of his own face.

"Get out," he whispered.

"Joey, like I said-"

"Get out."

"Please, just give it t-"

"Get the fuck out!" Joey screeched, lobbing the mirror towards the Doctor's face.

The frame connected with the bridge of Saunders' nose, as blood spurted from either nostril. Joey took great pleasure as he watched the Doctor hobble through the doorway, leaving him alone finally.

But was he alone? Who was he now? Could he be the man he was before, did he even want to be that man? His face had changed, his entire body had changed, and with that, he would have to change too.

Maybe this was just a step in his evolution. All he knew for sure was that the pulsing sense of power he had felt when staring down the fear in Saunders' eyes was the most powerful he'd ever felt. He wanted to feel that again, he wanted to feel that all the time.

The first step was taking control of this hospital, and everyone in it.

Joey looked down on his new form with pride for the first time, he would embrace it and become the terrifying monster he appeared to be.