Surviving Something Vile

You needed a miracle: God, a deal with the Devil, a guardian angel, anything. Maybe the doctors on the other side of the door would find mercy and let you out. Maybe they had a serum or purifying liquid to neutralize the virus.

No, they wouldn't do that. You were expendable, a thing to be used and thrown away. Not given a second thought when killed.

If anything was to save you, it'd be you and by your own means. No help from anyone else.

You stared dead ahead at the looming threat. 'Just remember what they said,' you told yourself. 'Remember the Three T's.'

Don't talk to him. "Oh, another of the diseased."
Don't trust him. "Don't be afraid."
Don't touch him. "My cure is most effective."