The Virus

Tom - February 25th

I wake up, head pounding, cotton mouth, rumpled clothing...and in a hedge.

Huh, must have been a good night. I've had quite a few of these since I started university a few months back. You've got to, haven't you? First taste of freedom, new mates...it's the done thing. I've never had one quite this bad though. I've never completely blacked out and fallen asleep outside. On the stairs, in the bathtub maybe, yes, but always inside somewhere.

I can't even remember what happened, however hard I rack my brain. I need water, painkillers, and more sleep. I'll worry about figuring everything out after that. I must've been alone when I slept here. I know my friends like to play pranks, but they'd never have left me here by myself. We all start the night together, and end it together. Unless a hot girl comes along...all rules fly out the window then.

I stagger upwards, the motion making my stomach heave. Urgh this hangover is so bad. I might have to slow down the drinking for a while. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to get a grasp on reality when a sharp pain makes me jump. I pull my hand away and realize it's completely covered in blood. I touch my face, I'm bleeding there too.

I guess I must have been in a fight or something? Or I fell and hit my head. That would explain a lot, I suppose.

I want to be back in my dorm, tucked in my bed. The walk there feels like the end of the world. I don't even know where I am. I wish my vision would stop blurring, then I could figure it out.

I start walking, trying to work it out as I go. Flashes of memories cross my brain, but they can't be real. They must be what I dreamt last night in my knocked out haze filtering into my brain. Zombies, lots of them, chasing me...killing my friends that were too drunk to run. Shuffling, bloody, and stinking of rot. I shiver at the thought, convinced I can actually smell the revolting scent now.

I really need sleep!

When I finally make it out onto the streets, I feel a sense of relief. I can get back to a bit of reality now. I look up, flicking my eyes around, and I am flooded with dread. Everything is weird; burnt, littered, broken. What the hell happened? The images I saw in my subconscious are becoming my reality.

I open my eyes, my whole body aching. I try to sit up. The shock of everything must have caused me to faint. How embarrassing is that? I will never, ever tell anybody that happened.

I look around, trying to get a grip on myself. It looks like I'm in a different place than before. I can't be sure though, I only got a tiny glimpse before I passed out.

It's completely deserted here and for some reason, that fills me with more terror than if there were a thousand zombies here. I stand up, everything pulsing and throbbing in agony. That smell...I swear it's up my nose, I can smell it everywhere.

I walk slowly, cautious not to make too much noise, scared of what I might attract. Every step hurts, every movement causes me to cringe. Eventually I reach a corner, frightened of what I might see, what I could come across. I can hear noises—low groans, crunches—so I know I won't be alone. Should I turn around and go back?

No, I need to figure out what is going on. Zombies can't be the answer....they aren't real!

I tentatively take a step, fearful, but needing to know all the same.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Maybe that saying is more accurate than anyone could have ever guessed.

I'm not in total shock about what I see, although it is surreal. I feel as if I already knew about them. The zombies, I mean. I even have a brief moment of déjà vu where I remember fighting them, but the memory is gone so quickly I don't know if I'm just making it up.

The blood and gore is far too much. The zombies are eating the remains of humans, a sight which equally disgusts and fascinates me. I move forward, I don't know why I don't run in the opposite direction; my body makes the decision for me. I need to see more. The noise of me moving causes a wave of disturbance among them. They all turn to look at me, and my heart jumps up into my chest. I stop breathing.

In that moment I know I'm about to die.

The moment passes as quickly as it happens. They all return to what they were doing. This confuses me. If they're eating people, then why not me? I look down at myself and realize the state I'm truly in. I am covered in blood and dirt, my flesh torn to bits, my arm is broken, I can even see the bone hanging out. How am I still moving? How the hell did I not notice?

I glance between myself, and the infected, realization taking over, clouding my mind. I remember it all now. The fall, the broken bones, hot teeth clamping down on my skin, my friend distracting them and then being torn to shreds himself, thinking he'd saved me.

He hadn't.

In fact, he got to die, whereas I'm left like this. Like the monsters I've been looking upon in horror. I'm one of them. We're the same.

That's the last coherent thought that passes through my brain before the virus takes me in completely.