When Your Laughter Sounds More Like A Curse

In every story, there's a beginning, a middle, and an end. Aya Adams is no exception to this rule. So when her roommate, Rosie Welsh, starts screaming about curses in the crowded dining hall, and no one is listening, much less cares, that's the beginning. Will they listen when she's stumbling down hallways, staggering distortedly, with blood dripping from her mouth and boils covering her face? In the dark hours of night, there is no way in, and there is no way out, and this disease is going to spread, through the bite of the infected. It's kill or be killed; it's the only way.