Genesis

Day 21

The man rose from his seat against the brick wall, the smell of meat enticing him to move. He stumbled a few steps as he began to walk, struggling to make his legs move after being still for so long. A low moan burst through his lips as he continued on, signalling for others to join him in his trek for food.

He scanned the city's skyline, not exactly taking in what was going on around him, his brain set on his single need.

Hunger was always biting at him. Making him want to eat everything living that moved past him.

He could never get his mind off it, not even when the me....mem....memories went through his mind, teasing him, angering him.

He was starting to forget things.

Hours ago, his mind was functioning properly. But now here he was, a stumbling monster in search of food.

A moan sounded from next to him. There were already more with him, moving with him in almost perfect synchronization down the burning asphalt.

There. Down the road a bit. It was the meat. Trapped beneath an overturned car, struggling, screaming as the Virals moved closer.

The man stumbled over something on the road. He almost fell. His meat was so close--so close. He could almost taste the momentary satisfaction that would come from such a delightful meal; the intoxicating smell of blood; the stringy, delectable flesh...

"Help!" Useless. No one was coming. It really pissed her off. After everything she'd done for them? After how many times she'd saved their asses, they weren't coming to rescue her?

And this. This honestly would be the most annoying death. She'd just saved that stupid boy who called himself TV from being devoured by a horde. As they'd run from the horde, succesfully losing it, this stupid car had tipped onto her. And he'd left her! Yelling something about being sorry. Annoying. That was at least ten minutes ago and no one had come to help her. And now a horde was approaching.

She'd surely be dead soon.

Unless...Unless she cut off her leg. It was stupid, of course. There was a good chance she'd be attacked as she fought to leave the scene, killed before she got anywhere. But if she did it fast enough, she might be able to find base. And then she could get TV by the neck-

No, no. That wasn't like her. She'd get worked up about this whole mess, ready to murder TV, but she'd never go through with it. She'd apologize for being so rash, and then go sulk to herself.

A screech tore her from her thoughts. Looking back, she realized that the horde was coming uncomfortably close.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked down at her machete. She'd have to cut her leg off. She had to do it.

Bracing herself against the car, she raised the machete. In a long, heavy arc, she brought it down on her leg.

She screamed. Screamed again and again. All she saw was white. By the time she'd began to cut through bone, tears were streaming down her face and her voice was hoarse. She swung the weapon again, not bothering to look back and see how close the Virals were. She knew they were getting closer. She swung the weapon again.

When she looked down, she saw a severed leg and a bleeding stump.

She almost vomited.

But the job was done. Holding her breath, she pushed herself up off the ground, using the car as leverage. She pushed away from the car, and tried to hobble on one leg, but all that resulted in was her falling. She attempted to crawl away from the wreck, using her arms and her one good leg, but that too proved futile. Finally, all but giving up, she crawled into an alley way, searching for something to use as a crutch.