INFECTION

Prologue Redux

The sky above the city was the colour of skin, drained of blood.

Bent street lights and buckled railings wept molten metal into scorched and fractured concrete creating a mosaic of silver trees in darkest night.

Ash fell like snow and formed drifts in the gutter.

And the bodies.

Charred, Rotten and  Infected.

Piled in doorways, caught on broken glass crawling through windows, or just face down on the road encircled by their own blood.

The smell, oh that smell of decaying jaundice yellowed flesh is enough to turn the strongest of stomachs. You could literally smell that stench drifting mournfully in the breeze for miles.

PROLOGUE

When I was young I didn’t play with dolls, action man was more my thing. Dresses nope, I screwed my nose up. Dungarees and boots were more my cup of tea. My father used to say I was born into the wrong body and I should have been a boy. He used to joke and say.

“If I’d wanted a son, I would have had one.”

 My school life was lonely. I didn’t play well with others.  Most of the girls played tag or skipped. Not me, I’d rather kick a ball about and be one of the boys.

I left school at sixteen and joined the army. I toured all seven continents. I’ve seen some beautiful places and done some wonderful things. That was until my commanding officer decided to give me 500 sit ups for not polishing my boots properly, suffice to say that didn’t sit well with me so I lost my cool and to cut a long story short I broke his nose with a fire extinguisher.  Ha, ha, well he was having a laugh they weren’t even that dirty. Cost me sixty days in a military prison for that little outburst. Tell you what though he never picked on me again.

I was a soldier foremost but trained as an electrical engineer so I would have a skill set when I returned to civilian life.

In the gym I was known as the black widow. I got this name from knocking out my opponents in the boxing ring. I made quite a name for myself by all accounts and it wasn’t long until nobody would step in the ring with me, pussies! So, I broke a few jaws, can’t see the big deal myself, they should have kept their guard up.

My life seemed mapped out. I was climbing the ranks quicker than most of the blokes in my unit. I don’t know, maybe I had something to prove to those walking dicks.

Everything was moving along as I had planned until one dusty stormy night in Afghanistan. My unit and I were ordered to storm a small warehouse. I had Intel suggesting it was a bomb staging area where they recruited small children and taught them how to make bombs. My orders were to sweep and clear. We entered under cover in formation. It was dark and the air smelt of damp and phosphorus.  We searched for the insurgents building by building. That’s where the story takes a different path.

I opened the door. My squad mate threw a flash bang into the room and it bounced of the adjacent wall and exploded in the passage way were we were stood. My eyes stung and watered, my ears rang. I’m disoriented all I saw was the gun pointing in my direction, I blindly fire. That one stray bullet ended my career in the army. It’s frowned upon when you accidently kill one of your own team mates. Suffice to say a dishonourable discharge was their only option. 

So yeah, my army career was over. All those years wasted. I’d planned on retiring with a decent pension but no, that dream had turned into a nightmare, so penniless I was forced to take a job as an electrical engineer. At first I didn’t like it but as my wage rose I got accustomed to the money. I eventually made a good friend; his name was Jim, a big burly bloke with a great sense of humour. Thinking about him now brings a tear to my eye. You see we were having an innocent pint when this bloke tried to crack onto me. Well, I was having none of it. I wasn’t interested, but no he had to persist and kept touching my ass as he passed by me. Six pints later we decided we had drunk our fill and decided to call it a night as we had an early start the next morning.  Jim and I were walking back to the car. I was just opening my door when I felt a pair of hands on my waist. The smell from his breath was a mix of alcohol and cigarettes.

“Leave her alone, be off with you or else” Jim shouts as he comes to my aid.

“Or else what? Granddad” the bloke replies.

Suddenly I hear the slam of car doors and two more blokes join the party.

Jim! “Get in the car” I said.

He didn’t listen and instead opened the boot and took out a tyre iron.

That’s when things got ugly. I heard the click then a flash of light caught my eye as the street light caught the blade. Jim, bless his soul lunged forward tyre iron in hand but his swing is wide and leaves himself open. The bloke who had been accosting me all night caught his arm and with his free hand stabbed him repeatedly.  After that I just saw red. I remember disarming the guy with the knife and using my military training I stabbed him dead, once with his own blade. I remember arms around my neck as another bloke took me from behind in a head lock. I remember the dust that kicked into the air as I threw him over my shoulder to the ground, then the sickening gurgle he made after I stamped on his windpipe. That sound still haunts me to this day. The third guy ran, seen enough I guess and didn’t fancy his chances. I panicked and jumped into the driver’s seat and put pedal to metal. I remember the thud as he hit the bonnet then the sound of glass breaking as he hit my rear window and the half drown, forlorn scream as he lay there with blood gushing from his neck where a shard of glass had found its mark. Then I heard the siren. I panicked and left thinking there were no witnesses; how wrong was I.

The next year or so passed in a haze. I’d totally lost my sense of purpose. I couldn’t go home. I had nothing and nobody.  Depression crept in, that’s where I really lost the plot. I started hearing voices. They told me to do inexplicable things and for two years I obeyed them, however all good things must come to an end.

 I heard the sirens. The blue flashing lights filtered into my room through a crack in my curtain.  I remember the warning to come out with my hands up. Then the loud bang as my front door was knocked off its hinges. Then, silence.

I woke a few hours later in my cell. I was visited by a psychiatrist who explained I had been on a killing spree for the past two years and that I faced the death penalty for my sins unless he could prove I was crazy. I told him I deserved to die for my sins and that’s just what happened.

12am Monday the 23rd 2015 I was all strapped up awaiting death by lethal injection. Suddenly the steel shutter lifts and I see the parents of my victims. It saddened me seeing the hate and grief in their eyes. Then something happened out of the ordinary. The shutter closed. The door opens and in walks a lady in a white coat accompanied by my solicitor.

Her name was Doctor Jones. They offered me a deal I couldn’t resist a reduced sentence to life in prison with no chance of parole for participation in a new drug trial involving stem cell replacement.  I was told her work would eventually help millions of sufferers. Finally, I had a sense of purpose. Yes, I was somebodies Guiney pig, and having a big ass needle shoved into my spinal column three times a week wasn’t pleasant but I felt I was atoning for all the bad I’d done by giving something back.

So here I am with one hand strapped to my bed awaiting my tri weekly treatment, when a freak meteor storm hit our small town.

This is my story.  

Chapter 1: It Begins

Been stuck in this room strapped to a hospital bed wearing nothing but an open-backed hospital gown, and it`s not helping that the air con unit is sitting directly above me blowing cold air down my back sending shivers down my spine.  Goose bumps protrude from my skin, it`s so cold my nipples are erect and protrude through my gown. I am surely giving Officer Barks something to stare at. I just wish he would close his mouth and stop drooling.

 “Enjoying the view? You pervert”. I ask, frowning as I catch him peeking at my girly bits over the top of his newspaper again.
He’s a dirty fucker. He’s always trying to cop a feel when we’re alone. I pity the day that my hands are released from these binds. I swear to god I will throttle the prick. What the fuck gives him the right to molest me eh? Dickhead! I’ll castrate the fucker. 

 “Oh yeah” he replies slavering at the chops.

Dirty bastard! he`s so brazen he`s not even denying it. If only I could free my hand, I would punch the twat in the face, bloody pervert.
Sighing i try to bring my knees together the best i can, but try as I may I can’t quite close them because of these bloody straps that are restricting my movement so instead i lie waiting with everything on show hoping the doctors will actually arrive for my treatment on time for once, there always bloody late and always have the perfect excuse” I think to myself as my free arm starts to spasm.

 “Owe ya bitch” I scream as my muscles tighten painfully.

The pain is unbearable and makes me wince through gritted teeth.

And what the fuck are you looking at?” I scream as the officer’s head leaves his paper to see what all the commotion is about.

He doesn’t answer instead the ignorant twat just chuckles and shakes his head then to add insult to injury he totally blanks me and returns his attention back to his newspaper.

  Dirty twat! I bet he’s looking at some page three stunner” I think to myself as I flex my arm and painfully force it to straighten.

Fuck me! Why are my hands shaking?  I press on through gritted teeth and proceed to clench and unclench my hand into a tight fist.

“Jesus! My arms killing.”

I clench and unclench my hand a further five or six times and the spasm dissipates, so with my new lease of life I reach for the TV remote which is hanging on the wall above me.

I stretch my arm high. My gown lifts up to my waistline. I can hear the rustle of the officer’s newspaper. My eyes snap to his and I throw him a look of disgust.

  “Don’t miss a fucking trick, do ya? Fucking pervert! Cant a girl gets some privacy around here?” I scream while watching his eyes undress me. Not that much undressing was necessary.

  Privacy! Yeah right! “What do you think this is the fucking Ritz? Scum like you don’t deserve fuck all” he replies lifting the paper to cover his ugly mug once more.
  “Prick” I think as i turn the TV on.

My eyes widen as the news comes on. A bunch of reporters are covering the meteor storm that is expected to pelt Burton on Trent. Stapenhill Park is projected to be ground zero which is about a mile from where I am now.

Camera crews are set up all over the place but the view most shot is right in front of the park.

I mute the TV and turn the subtitles on. I’m now only partially paying attention to the screen. Making myself comfortable has taken priority.
 

The door opens at nine o’clock sharp. Doctor Jones and her entourage of four assistants pass the other officers who are waiting outside the door. They enter my room.

  “Good morning, Miss Wooten. How are you today?” she says in her thick midland accent.
  “Morning Jones. Not too bad. Arm’s bothering me less and less these days.”
She nods in reply as her team proceeds to surround my bed.

Suddenly I feel like an ant that has been dissected and placed under a microscope. Don’t bother asking why I chose an ant as my comparison because I have no answer. I just said the first thing that entered my head.

  “I expect the majority of your remaining symptoms should cease a few days after the final treatment has been administered this morning. Please sit up and lean forward” she requests placing the stethoscope, on my back.

  “Bloody hell Jones, that’s cold” I say jolting forward.

The cold steel feels horrible against my bare back as she begins a thorough examination.

 “Now, Miss Wooten. Nice deep breaths” she remarks while moving the stethoscope to various parts of my back.

  “Any other issues of which I should be aware miss Wooten?”
“Nope, although I’ve got that not-so-fresh feeling down below if you ya get my drift?”

  “Oh I see. I will have a nurse attend to your needs just as soon as I’ve finished my examination” she replies taking the stethoscope off my back.

  “Well Miss Wooten! I see no reason to reschedule your procedure; you’re as fit as an ox” she replies then tests my reflexes with the hammer of doom.

 I hate hospitals. You see my treatment consists of a local anaesthetic which is applied to my lower back followed shortly after by an injection into my spinal cord (which hurts like a bitch, I might add) with an obscenely long needle plus two additional shots into my arm which burn like a mother fucker as the liquid enters my blood stream.

  “Well Miss Wooten! I look forward to seeing you again in two weeks for your final Results and even though you’re a criminal we greatly appreciate your participation in this clinical trial. Thanks to you, a viable course of treatment may be available for the general public in a few short years. Anyway if there’s nothing else I have rounds to do. I will send someone to sort your little problem out shortly, ok?”

  “Yeah, Thanks. Glad to be your guinea pig Doc. Like I have a fucking choice? I mutter in reply.

Choice! “Did all those poor souls you murdered have a choice as you snuffed out their lives like some insignificant candle? No! I think not and as for choices you have two. 1. You can shut that foul mouth of yours and get with the programme and see the good we are trying to achieve or 2. You can go back to your cell and await execution. Now what’s it to be?”

  Fine! “Point taken” I reply deflated.

“Thought so. Now if there is nothing else I have rounds to attend too?”

I lie on the bed cursing under my breath as she disappears through the doorway.

“So… I killed a bunch of people. Whoopi doo! My only crime is I got caught. Why didn’t I tie that last one tight enough?” I think racking my brain for an answer.

Ten minutes pass and my brain still yields no answers.

My head snaps to the door as it creaks open.

A tall blonde nurse enters wheeling a small cart with a towel and a bowl of hot soapy water.

I watch with saucer eyes as she lathers the sponge. Her hands are warm to the touch as she slides my gown up and over my head revealing my pert breasts.

The officers’ eyes widen and nearly pop out his head.

  “Oh come on! Give me a break. You’ve been ogling me all morning. Could I please have five minutes of privacy?” I say with a forked tongue.

He chuckles.

  “Well, I’m afraid my orders are to watch you for the entirety of my shift, so the answer to your question is no”.

  “Well at least you could have the decency to turn around for five then?” I reply

  “Sorry, no can do. I have been told to watch you and as hard as that may be somebody`s got to do it” he replies grinning deviously.

  “You’re a sick bastard getting your kicks from ogling naked women, you want locking up”.

  “So we have something in common” he chuckles.

The nurse sees my distress and takes pity on me and proceeds to position her body to obstruct his view.

  “Oh, come on; Spoilsport” he says standing up to peer over her shoulder.

  “Oh, just get on with it nurse. Fuck my human rights” I protest.

She places the warm soapy sponge on my thigh and moves it in a circular motion then the sponge glides over my pelvic region coming to rest just above my clitoris.

Her eyes widen as she comes to a controlled stop. Our eyes meet. She winks.  Her thumb slides from the sponge and now rests on my clitoris. I give a little sigh as her thumb finds its mark. I wasn’t gay before prison, but three years away from men will teach you some things. I’ve got to admit it feels damn good. I lie there in a state of bliss thinking “it doesn’t get any better than this.” I was wrong.

Slowly her thumb starts to encircle my clit. I gasp loudly.  She adjusts the pressure to meet my needs. It’s as if she knows what I want and what I am thinking.

I hear the rustle of the newspaper. My eyes snap to the officers. He’s no fool and can see what’s happening. He`s virtually drooling.

I watch as he moves his hand to his groin and repositions his man hood. Which I might add is now protruding through his trousers.

The nurse can feel his erection pressing up against her tight arse; she turns to him and gives him a filthy look saying “do you mind?”

  Spoilsport! “I need a rest break anyway. I will be back in five. Don’t go anywhere” he replies.

  “Is he taking the piss or what? where`s he think I’m going to go?” I think as the nurse ups the tempo.

  “You know where he`s gone don’t you?” she says smiling.

“Yeah, the dirty bastards gone to relieve himself” I reply smiling.

She looks at her watch, her face changes from cheerful to worry.

  “Bloody hell look at the time. I’ve got to do Maize’s bloods in the next room like five minutes ago” she says sounding agitated.

She removes her hand and places the sponge back in the bowl.

“What the fuck!” I growl. Now I’m fucking frustrated.

 “Are you kidding me? You can`t leave me like this?” I continue.

She smiles then places her hand back on my clitoris and says “you have got five minutes, starting now.”

Once again her fingers move in a circular motion varying their pressure and speed. My hips start to buck. My breathing quickens as I climax in a crescendo of pleasure.

She smiles, grabs the sponge and washes me down then pats me dry with the towel.

 “Why did you do that?” I ask.

“I thought I would give that pervert something to look at” she replies.

“Well, ok then that was then, but he`s not in the room now, so why did you continue?” I ask.

  “Well, why not? I can`t see you complaining” she retorts grinning.

  “Well, I better be off on my rounds, see you around” she says as she leaves the room.

The Officer returns just after she closes the door looking exhausted and red faced.

  “Feel better for that?” I say mocking him.

“What? I needed to drain the lizard that’s all” he replies. He looks embarrassed. Oh I don’t know maybe the flushed face is a dead giveaway. 

I lay thinking of what I had to look forward to, you see I was three years into a death sentence for multiple murders when my right arm started going numb.

The diagnosis was Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, more commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s disease, It was ironic really that a terminal disease saved me from lethal injection, the same mentality that required them to swab my arm with an alcohol pad before pumping a lethal cocktail into my bloodstream prevented them from going through with the execution.
Then my sleazy solicitor cut a deal.
As luck would have it fate intervened. Burton hospital had opened a new wing doing clinical stem cell trials, so in exchange for participation in their research my death sentence was reduced to life in prison without parole.

To my surprise the treatment is actually working, after two months of bi-weekly treatments, my arm is nearly back to normal and the disease seems to be loosening its grip on me.

I’m alone again with the Officer.  I watch as he watches me try to get into a comfortable position without giving him the whole tour of my now engorged and lubricated nether region.

He glares shaking his head saying “four more hours of observation and then you’re back in your cell and it can’t be over fast enough for me.” He sounds bored and bitter.
With a sigh I give up with the notion of getting comfortable and turn over on my right hip then un-mute the TV and after tugging down the bottom of my hospital gown for the millionth time I finally settle down.

The Officer glances up at the screen. “looks like it`s started then”.
The Sunrise is just beginning to creep over the buildings overlooking the park where the cameras are rolling.

The meteor shower begins, raining down small streaks of light; they look like falling stars as they fall in their thousands.

The reporter turns her gaze upwards, watching the scene unfold while she speaks into a microphone.

To be honest I’m really not paying attention as she blabs on about the number of impacts the earth usually suffers on a yearly basis.

Then her voice changes and takes a higher pitch, wavering in fear she points to a large ball of fire which is hurtling towards her.

Now she has my undivided attention. 
The picture grows smaller then shrinks and tucks itself away in the bottom right hand corner as the camera switches to broadcasting from a higher vantage point overlooking the park. He`s also got his camera trained on the big fire ball hurtling to earth.

 Holy shit! It’s heading straight for them” The officer says now with his face pinned to the screen.
I nod in agreement and watch with morbid fascination.

The meteor grows larger as it nears. It is apparent the camera crews are panicking because even on the tiny screen it is obvious that they are in distress.

Then BANG! The impact rocks the building as the first of many hit. All i saw on the screen was a flash then screams followed then the cameras blacked out. The screen returns to the standard news room view a few seconds later. Pair of news readers safe and sound in their studio sit staring wide eyed at each other, unsure of what to say.

The female of the pair starts to cry followed quickly by a commercial break.

  Jesus! They’re so fucked” The officer says wiping his brow on his hanky.

Once again I agree.
the officer puts a call through to officer Roberts who`s posted in the hallway and together we watch as the news comes back on with stunned talking heads explaining the situation.

  “While most of the meteors have burned up in the earth’s atmosphere, however a sizable rock of denser material has remained intact and struck the core of the park with devastating force causing gas pipes to rupture which have created a chain reaction across the town.”

We continue to watch as a lone camera man runs through the streets filming. Manhole covers blow hundreds of feet into the air rocketing back with tremendous force impaling car roof tops.

People run like headless chickens, some even on fire as they’re caught unaware by nearby explosions, burning them beyond recognition. Some even walk trailing their skin behind them.

  I watch feeling sick to the stomach as their skin burns in putrescent colours as the intense heat melts the skin off their bodies.

Shop windows blow out sending out shards of glass like tiny missiles shredding people`s faces as they run by. They throw their arms out in a defensive manner to shield their faces but they offer little or no protection.

I`m sure I saw the camera jolting at one point as if he was being sick.

Loud explosions echo across town.  Cars explode trapping their occupants in a fiery grave. I saw somebody pounding against the glass with bloody burnt hands trying to escape. Poor soul.

A colossal eruption is underway.  Pipes all over Burton on Trent explode turning man made roads to mere rubble.

They continue to broadcast for a few more minutes, and then nothing just, static fills the screen.
The lights start to flicker on and off, then die out. Alarms sound all over the hospital as medical equipment reverts to battery backup.

Nurses run around like headless chickens unsure of what to do as they look in on patients.

Officer Roberts takes a peek outside the door for a moment, and then closes it behind him.

He turns to me, face pale and perspiring.

He takes his mobile out his pocket and mashes the buttons, probably trying to get a message to his loved ones.

He sighs. “Can’t get through; I’m just getting static. What about you Barks?” he asks frantically still mashing the buttons.

Barks takes his phone out and mashes the buttons replying “work you bastard.”

I lie chuckling to myself. I’m rewarded with a pair of angry faces.

The Lights start to flicker and come back on as the backup generator kicks in illuminating the room once more.

Officer Roberts tries the television. He bashes the buttons but nothing happens; he looks on bemused.

 “Work, you bastard” he says whilst bashing the buttons.

I chuckle to myself then add my two pennies worth.

“They isolate non-critical circuits so the electrical load isn’t as high” I say smirking.
“How the fuck do you know that?” they both reply.
I shrug then smugly reply, “Because I installed a bunch of them in Iraq.  Roberts you would know that if you had done your job properly. I take it you didn’t read my file then?”
Roberts chuckles without much humour whilst Barks looks on sneering. “Oh, right, a war hero turned mass murderer, how could I forget? Of course I read your file” he snarls back.
“That’s me” I reply sarcastically whilst adding a cheeky wink for insult.

Knock, knock, another security officer pops his head in saying “can I borrow you two guys a minute?” Roberts and Barks follow him and return five minutes later. They look frustrated.

 “What’s up boys?” I ask once they have closed the door.

Neither officer replies and blanks me. I watch smirking as they furiously batter their phones hoping to get a message to their loved ones, knowing my cheerful calm will grate on their nerves. You see if there’s one thing I love to do, its fuck with authority figures. My soft whistling of ‘It’s the final countdown pushes Barks over the edge.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” He shouts as he finally loses his cool.
“What’s going on boys? What’s got you all hot under the collar?”
Roberts shakes his head then walks over to the window and says “a state of emergency has been issued to all medical and law enforcement agencies to prepare for a lot of casualties.

We’ve been advised to stay put for the next twenty four hours.”
“Why`s all this shit’s happening?” I ask whilst grinning at the thought of not returning to my cell for a full day.
“Oh… well it`s not all doom and gloom at least you get to ogle me for another twenty-four hours” I reply cheerfully then lean back and close my eyes.

Even though they are closed I can feel their eyes burning right into my soul.

Bunch of tossers!

Chapter 2: Boom, Boom, Shake the Room

The first tremor hits.

To be honest it isn’t as bad as I’d first expected and consisted of a few seconds of shaking and then it was over, however the second and third are much worse and the violent shaking causes things to fall and glass to break amid cries of fear and panic.

The hospital’s power came back on about an hour before the first quake, and then cut off after the second one hit, and still doesn’t return as the morning drags on. With the power out and the air conditioner starved of power it’s not long before the air grows humid and stuffy inside my vent- less room.

 My bed shakes as another small tremor hits. Outside I can hear the sirens of ambulances and their passing become more frequent as the morning drags on. I assume they carried people injured or worse killed from falling debris as buildings collapsed on top of them.

Burton on Trent didn’t normally suffer from earthquakes so the towns building codes didn’t require them to be quake-proof. (Bet the council wished they were now though)

A cold lunch arrives around noon consisting of manly rabbit food and the three of us eat in utter silence.

As the day plods on, the power returns in sporadic bursts allowing us to catch up on the day’s events.

Reports of riots, looting and widespread devastation are being received from across the town as quake damage, power outages and a lack of reliable communications plague the governments relief efforts.

Major road ways have become parking lots as people try to find somewhere else to go having lost their homes to the quakes. Several structures normally used for shelters have collapsed or are severely damaged.
The mayor has declared a state of emergency and has warned people to shelter in place.

The T.A and active reserves are ordered to report to their duty stations.

I curse and nearly choke on my orange juice when the power goes off again.

Bloody power! “Make your mind up, are you off or on?” I snarl with orange juice dripping down from my nose.

I’m not the only one the power outages are winding up. I grin smugly around my straw slurping loudly with the intent to annoy as the TV flicks off; Barks face turns red with anger.
I chuckle to myself then get my head down in the hopes the day will go quicker.

Outside the confines of my snug room a strong wind begins to blow whipping mournfully against my room’s cracked window while Roberts stands tensely looking out on the pandemonium ensuing outside.

The power comes back on just after sunset but the TV is all static.                

“Fuck” Roberts growls

I sit up to see what has riled him.

Outside the light is fading.  The sun buries its head. I can see the lights of parked cars in the car park. White specks of ash fall from the heavens imitating snow like flakes; the cars headlights catch them as they fall.

I glance to where Barks was stood. He’s not there. I look for Roberts he too evades me.

“Where have they gone?” I think to myself while scouring the room.

Creak! My eyes snap the door. Roberts steps back inside and closes the door quietly behind him.

  “Where’s Barks?” I ask while trying to work the knots out of my arm.
“Outside.”
“Oh, getting stir crazy, eh?”
“Yeah.”
I sigh, “Try sitting in an eight by five twenty hours a day” I bitch seeing their troubles as insignificant.
 He sighs. “Well we didn’t murder nine people. What did you expect dinner and a movie?” he replies wearily.

He sounds tired and it doesn’t look like I’m going to get a rise out of him so I let the conversation drop, content to watch the artificial snow fall. The power dies again thirty minutes later.
“I wonder why the power’s all packed up.” Roberts says aloud.

 I surprise him by answering.
“The UK’s electric grid is sixty years old in some places and all it takes is for one section to crash and the rest follows like dominos.”

I grin and shrug at his questioning stare.

“I read a lot, ok?” Well I haven’t much else to do whilst I’m stuck in my cell, so why not? I may as well learn something.”
  “Yeah I suppose” he replies whilst pacing back and forth.

An hour passes Barks still hasn’t returned. Roberts has virtually worn a hole in the carpet from all his pacing. I can clearly see that he is worried for his colleague but I decide to take a snipe at him anyway.

   “Any more pacing Roberts and you’ll be down under” I say accompanied with a shrill laugh.

“Shut it Wooten. Where is he? He should have been back ages ago” he says while still pacing back and forth.

I laugh. “Chill Roberts, I bet he went home to give his old lady one.”

“Don’t be so disgusting Wooten.”

“Oh, come on Roberts cheer up at least you have me to baby sit. Lucky you eh?” I taunt, grinning when he flicks me off and proceeds to pace back and forth more briskly.

Bang! Roberts stops in his tracks and listens. He turns to face me. “Did you hear that? It sounded like a gunshot didn’t it?”

“Yep, you’re in for it now” I taunt in reply.

“Don’t think so, I don’t go down that easy” he replies.

He unclips his holster and draws his Remington 1911. CLICK! He flicks the safety off.

  “What? I didn’t do it” I say as his eyes lock with mine.

“Of course you didn’t. I’m not stupid you know” he replies whilst looking round the room letting his gun lead the way.
BANG! The colour drains from his face. His hands begin to shake profusely. Screams and shouts erupt from down the corridor more BANG! BANG! Probably gunshots follow.

  The building foundations shake as another tremor ripples through, causing dust to drift down and stick to the sweat on Roberts’s forehead.

Seeing his dismay, I try my luck.
  “Why don’t you un- cuff me? I’ve got no beef with you” I smile.
He shakes his head. His gaze is focused on the door.
  “C’mon man I’ll Give ya a blow job if you un- cuff me! What do you say?” I suggest as I continue to push my luck.

His eyes snap to mine followed by the barrel of his 1911.

  “Not if you were the last women on earth, you’d probably bite my dick off” he replies.
More screams of pain and terror echo from outside the door.

BANG!

My eyes snap to the direction the gunshot came from just in time to see the muzzle flash light up the frosty glass window set into our door.

“Did you see that Roberts?” I ask playfully.

Shut it! “I’m trying to concentrate” he replies.

I can tell he’s terrified. I bet he hasn’t even fired that gun he’s holding in those trembling hands.

Five minutes pass.

The screams have stopped however they have been replaced with eerie moans.

“Roberts!”

“What?”

“Just an observation but you might want to put the safety back on your sidearm, not as though you’d hit anything if you were to open fire” I smugly say.

His eyes snap to mine.

  “What’s that’s supposed to mean? I’ll have you know I was top of my class” he snarls.

“Yeah, yeah Roberts, I can see that by your posture and those shaky hands. How the hell do you expect to hit anything with your gun jumping up and down like that?”

“Wooten, Shut it! You’re winding me up on purpose and I’m not rising to your antics. Now be quiet, I’m trying to listen” he snaps.

  “Go take a peek?” I suggest cheerfully.
“Bitch shut the fuck up!”
“Ah, finally I’m getting somewhere” I think grinning to myself.

I decide to up the ante and softly hum the tune to I know a song that will get on your nerves whilst tapping my cuffs against the bed rail in time to the tune.

  Roberts whispers a few heartfelt curses at something other than his annoying prisoner, causing me to crack an eye open.

An eerie moan emanates from the other side of the door causing me to stop humming.

  “Did you hear that Roberts”? I ask whilst listening intently.

   “Shush” He replies placing his finger over his lips.

We both stare at the frosted glass on the door as a black silhouette slowly saunters by.

Roberts raises his gun and trains it on the shadowy figure. His gun is locked and loaded. His hands still shake and his face glistens from the sweat that has rolled down from his forehead.

“Easy Roberts” I say as fear sets in.

“Easy? I’ll give you easy. One more word from you and I swear to god the first bullet will have your name on it” he snarls whilst turning on his heels so that his gun is facing my direction.

  Fine! “Chill Roberts; I was just fucking with you” I reply smiling.     

 His hands are now shaking that bad if he’d fired he would have missed for sure.

  “Shush, Wooten. Listen” he whispers.

We both listen intently as another eerie moan echoes from outside the door.

  This shadowy figure seems different. The way it moves suggests that it’s drunk. It’s literally all over the place.

  God my mouth is dry.

  “Roberts! “What’s the chance of getting some more of that lovely juice i whisper?”

“ENOUGH!” He screams.

The silhouette stops and hovers swaying back and forth just outside the door.

BANG! BANG! A look of horror washes over Roberts’s face as a bloody hand begins to bang on the frosted glass window.
  “Move along! I am an armed officer of the law! He shouts.

His voice is a mixture of authority and fear.

  I laugh mocking him; the figure remains, banging repeatedly against the glass until cracks spider web along its surface.

Roberts goes in for a closer look whilst repeating his warning just as a bloody hand punches through the window.

I can see the sleeve of a doctor’s once-white jacket in the corridors emergency lighting. It`s shredded and nearly black with blood.

Roberts gasps loudly as he comes face to face with its wearer.

  “I’ll shoot! This is your final warning!” he repeats several times.

I gasp.

  “Roberts! It’s Doctor Jones” I shout.

The sound of my voice drives her into frenzy. She reaches in through the glass. Shards of glass impale her whitish grey pale skin while raised veins ooze thick black blood from the wounds she has inflicted upon herself and trickle down the glass. She does not whimper. In fact she seems heedless of self-injury as more little rivers of thick black blood slowly trickle down jagged shards of broken glass.

On closer inspection I can see a bit of her scalp hanging off, it rests against the side of her head like a bad toupee while cracked glasses perch haphazardly above her broken nose.

I can also see the off yellow of bone above the strip of scalp that flops back and forth from her right eye down to her ear as she tries to reach Roberts.
  “That’s pretty fucked up right there” I announce.
Roberts, fires off three shots in quick succession; one bullet strays and shatters the remaining glass. I watch on fascinated as the doctor’s body shakes from the bullets impact.

The first catches her shoulder spinning her round and knocks her off balance. The second piercers her stomach. Only a soft moan and Roberts frantic breathing breaks the thunderous post-gunshot silence.
  “I prefer a Beretta over a 1911; much better stopping power” I taunt.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he shouts spinning to point the still smoking barrel in my direction.

His eyes are almost white. He is clearly in a state of shock and there is no way he has fired his sidearm before. Well not by what I have seen. His burst of fire was uncontrolled, he panicked. You should squeeze the trigger allowing for a more controlled burst as the gun recoils. Trust me I’ve fired a few in my time; just ask my victims. Oops, sorry you can’t, can you? Because they are all dead.

   “14 shots remaining” I taunt in a sing song voice as the doctor awkwardly rises to her feet.  
He turns.  Her arm reaches in through the broken glass and grabs hold of his shirt.

“Help me!!” he screams in horror.

“I bet you wished you’d un-cuffed me now, don’t you?” I reply in a sarcastic tone.

  “Fuck you!” He replies whilst struggling to break free from her vice like grip. He continues to struggle but she is far too strong and overpowers him and pulls him towards her slamming him into the broken glass.

I gasp loudly as crimson blood pumps from his neck in fountains of glorious red as the jagged glass slices deep cutting his skin like butter. He screams in a garbled voice as his lungs fill with blood. Seconds later another fountain of blood sprays my way as the doctor frantically sinks her teeth into his neck and shakes her head vigorously, ripping off large chunks of his flesh.

 Roberts looks at me wide eyed as he drops to his knees, his momentum nearly pulls the doctor through the door’s window frame while I look on in horror.

 I must admit I feel quite guilty now for taunting Roberts, for he wasn’t as bad as officer Barks. If anybody deserved to die like this, it would have been him; the fucking perv.

I look across the room weighing up my options.

Doctor Jones hangs precariously midway through the window; her arm is outstretched and still has Roberts dead to rights in a vice like grip.

  “Shoot her man! For god’s sake! Shoot her!” I repeatedly shout whilst trying to free myself from my binds. 

He smiles. Well I think it’s a smile and with a shaking hand, he lifts his 1911 to her chin garbling, “die bitch.”

BANG! BANG! He fires off two rounds, the first exits through her left cheek the second through the top of her skull.

 I’m not kidding you it was like a volcano erupting as bits of her skull and brains were exiled into the air.

Bodies hit the ground.

Roberts lies gasping for air drowning in his own blood.
  “Well that kind of sucks” I sigh while looking down at his twitching form.

  “Bit inconsiderate don’t you think leaving me still handcuffed to the bed? What the hell am I supposed to do now?” I think whilst wrestling with my binds.

  “Arrrrgh!”

“Shit what was that?” I look down at Roberts’s twitching corpse. I gasp loudly when I see the whites of his eyes staring back at me.
 

Chapter 3: It’s Alive

Not more than five minutes have passed. I watch on in horror whilst frantically thrashing around trying to slip my binds as officer Roberts’s limbs begin to show signs of life. 

I kick the bed rail with my foot in the hopes of breaking it at one corner allowing me to slide my feet off the end of the rail.

I’m exhausted and have been preoccupied trying to break the bed rail and almost forgot about my dear departed friend and can now feel a shadow looming over me. I gulp loudly before slowly turning to face whatever is breathing down my neck.

As I turn I can see more shadowy figures skulking past my door.

Most walk in a stiff, awkward gait, a few have better coordination and move at something closer to the norm, the only thing they have in common is they all look dead, all be it to varying degrees.

Bluish skin tones, pale lips, cloudy eyes and prominent black veins set the basic template. The shufflers as I call them show signs of violence and most of their flesh is missing and they’re covered in thick black blood. Meanwhile the quicker more agile ones seem mostly intact; I’ll call these runners.
I continue to slowly turn. What? There’s nothing there maybe the onset of fear and panic had caused me to hallucinate. I look down at Officer Roberts bloody corpse. To be honest some part of me was expecting him to get up. “Oh I don’t know; maybe I have seen to many movies” I think as his transformation finally completes.

I look down as his body, yep he is very much dead, his tanned skin is now a pale grey. His skin hangs in tatters where the twice-dead doctor has ripped away chunks of his neck, he now lays in his Blood soaked uniform swimming in eight pints of blood.

Suddenly he starts to moan. I gasp in horror as once hazel eyes roll around in their sockets to perfect cue balls. Suddenly they stop and lock onto me followed by the familiar moan that seems to accompany these vile creatures. 

“Bring it!” I hiss.
He does.
My eyes don’t leave his corpse as he stretches out his arms. I watch with hope as his fingers outstretch allowing the gun to drop from his cumbersome hand then sigh as it slides across the floor well out of my shackled reach.

I take my attention off him briefly thinking of way to reach the gun. That’s all it took. My heads on a swivel as cold hands grasp my shackled arm. I try to put some distance between myself and my would-be attacker. He leans forward snapping wildly trying to bite me.

 I punch out as hard as I can with my free hand, whilst shouting “don’t think so pal. I’m not on the menu, kitchens closed.”

I hear bone crack under my momentum as my knuckles connect with his jaw and a few of his teeth eject from his mouth but the fucker doesn’t falter and stands fast. I now realise the predicament that I’m in and things aren’t looking good.

My last swing has left me wide open and seconds later I feel what’s left of his teeth sink into my arm and before I can say “get the fuck off me” he stands with a chunk of my arm dangling from his mouth.

  “Give that back you fucker” I scream through gritted teeth.

I have to say the pain is unbearable and I’m starting to feel quite faint.

He lunges forward again.

  “No fucking way” I scream whilst jabbing my thumb into his eye socket.

Distracted in my goal his teeth once again tear into my forearm.

  “No fucking way am I going out like this” I say I as force my thumb past his eyeball.

 I listen for the squelch as my thumb passes through his eye cavity finding the fleshy tissue hidden behind his pearly whites. He continues to knaw at my arm. I wince loudly as another chunk of my forearm disappears but it doesn’t sway me in my mission to purge this fucker of his brains. 

I watch his throat muscles work as he swallows down a chunk of my arm, he seems uncaring to the damage my finger is doing to his eye.

Finally my thumb reaches its goal in its destructive burrowing and his body falls forward, unmoving, onto my chest.
I remember only bits and pieces for a while after that as shock and blood loss takes hold. I remember Fumbling in his pockets for the handcuff keys, grabbing his gun off the floor, stumbling into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind me, oh and puking, Shivering in darkness on the cold tiled floor.

My arm is bleeding profusely I have to stop the bleeding somehow so remembering my military training I fire expelling one precious bullet that I could have used to drop one of those vile creatures. I press the smoking barrel deep into my flesh to hopefully cauterize the wound and follow up with a whole roll of toilet paper which I wrap around the gaping wound where I’d been bitten.

  It’s funny you know. Well not so much funny more ironic. I’d already dodged death row and been cured of my terminal illness and to die like this, well maybe it’s just my time to go. Maybe karma has come a knocking or maybe it’s my penance for all the innocent lives I took. I laugh hysterically as the loss of blood finally takes me. Then nothing. Just darkness.

I wake some time later, naked, shivering on the tiled floor in a puddle of vomit mixed with blood and piss.

 My bare feet slip and slide on the cold tiled floor when I try to rise, causing me to fall against the toilet. I hit my head and blackout again.
I wake thirty minutes later according to the clock on the wall. This time I feel a bit more clearheaded. My arm is throbbing like a bitch where I was bitten but I suppose I ort to be thankful that I’m still alive. Well what’s left of me. 

After gathering my thoughts, I crawl my way to a seated position using the toilet as leverage. Still shivering i fumble above my head for the light switch. It takes several minutes for my vision to clear once the harsh florescent lights have flickered on overhead.

Agony lances through my stomach. I curl up in the foetal position while razor scales knawing from the inside, I struggle to push through the pain and rise on my unbalanced legs.

Tugging off the ruined hospital gown makes stars dance at the edge of my vision.
With one shaking hand I carefully unwind the makeshift toilet paper bandage from my arm, wincing in anticipation of what I expected to see, huh? Dumbfounded, I stand staring at the spot Roberts had eaten, my minds unable to wrap itself around the view presented.

“What? I don’t understand” I continue to stare at my arm. No huge gaping wound meets my view: instead a large Technicolor bruise in lovely shades of yellow, blue, black and green surrounds a thick circle of raised scar tissue.

It hurts like hell, throbbing from shoulder to fingertips, however my arm moves when and how I tell it to.
A wave of vertigo follows. I crash over double up dry heaving into the sink. I can feel the filth between my toes but it hardly seems an issue, all things considered.

My hands fumble with the faucet until cold water flows freely; quickly I scoop a handful up splashing it against my face then scoop again filling my mouth quenching my thirst replenishing the moisture in my cracked lips.

Bending down is still playing havoc with my vision but I fight it off with a growl while slowly straightening to look at my reflection in the mirror.
The fluorescent light casts a stark glare against my pale skin. Well you don’t get much of a tan in prison locked in your cell 23hours a day.

My normally full cheeks look thin and gaunt.

They’d always made me look younger than my thirty-three years and retained some lingering baby fat but now my cheekbones stand out prominently, I look wasted, Starved.

My blue eyes have faded to a pale grey bloodshot with dark bruises surrounding them giving me a raccoon's face.

 My hair is what shocks me the most, normally dark brown and curly, it now hangs messily around my face in straight white lines, my eyebrows too.

I glance down my naked body. It’s the same. My ribs protrude through my skin. I look further still. “Ok that’s interesting” I say when I realise the upstairs matches the down; if you get my drift?  “Why white?”

I slowly scan the rest of my frail body to see if any other surprises are waiting.
At four feet, six inches tall, I am about average height for a girl and sported a pretty good body, Perky breasts and wide child-birthing hips, as my grandma used to say which gave me modest curves but nothing outlandish.

A little chub usually clung to my waist in the form of subtle love handles and there was always a bit of extra belly despite millions of sit-ups done in my cell each day. All that is gone now. In fact, I look as if every bit of my body fat has been sucked out of me.

I try to cry but no tears fall. My well is empty and void of moisture. I continue to stare at my reflection.

 “This person who stares back at me, surely it can’t be me?” I think staring at my overly pronounced collar bones.

 I look starved and gaunt, almost skeletal. There are no black veins though, I am relieved to note but my finger and toe nails aren’t right, like my hair, they’ve turned solid white and It wasn’t until I’d turned on the shower and stepped inside to wash off the filth and blood that I notice that all my tattoos have gone.
Pain flares in my stomach again as I bathe and forces me to flop down hard on the shower floor causing pain to shoot through my spine on impact.

 For a long time, or at least for what felt like a long time, I sit there beneath the scalding hot water as knots of agony tear through my belly.
The pain eases a little by the time the water runs cold. My legs seem steadier as I pull myself up and step over the messy puddle to grab Roberts gun, a 1911, where it’d fallen beside the toilet.

My stomach growls loudly as I check its action and eject the magazine to see what’s left ammunition wise, four rounds remain. I chuckle when I glance at my reflection in the mirror, naked, wet, and holding a pistol I look like some B-movie heroine.

With a grin I rock the clip home and chamber a round then open the bathroom’s door ajar.
The hospital room is quiet as a grave beyond, since, you know, that’s what it has become.

Roberts’s corpse still lies in a pile on the floor and Doctor Jones’s body remains draped over the door’s window frame, above a thick puddle of congealed blood drips from the ceiling.

I take a few cautious steps into the room and look around for something to wear.

Moans drift from the hallway. I duck down to avoid detection and continue my search.  In the end i strip off Jones’s dark blue trousers. There covered in black congealed blood but needs must so they will have to do until I can find something better. I open the cupboard to my right. “Yes this will do” I say taking a clean white hospital gown from the shelf and throw it on as a make shift t- shirt.

Dr Jones is a little bit taller than me so the trousers drag on the floor and after a walking a few feet i nearly trip over them. So I cuff and roll the legs up over my calves like I was about to hit the beach. Roberts’s belt makes a great holster and anchor and holds them tight to my waist; every silver lining. Eh!

I search Roberts’s corpse for anything useful.

 “Yes” I say when I pull four extra clips from his pockets bringing my ammunition total to thirty bullets. I look down at my feet, there still bare. I peruse the room for something to dress them in. In the corner of the room there are some plastic shoes. I try them on but they offer little or no comfort. I look to Jones’s feet. She has flats size 6, my size.

I try to pull them off but rigamortis has set in and the angle of her foot is making them difficult to remove so to make things easier I break her ankle. Crack! It sounds as though I’m breaking wood. Don’t worry she didn’t feel a thing. I slide them off and try them on for size. Perfect. 

 I sit with my back to the wall while looking out the room’s window gathering my thoughts. The clock on the wall reads 10am which means I’ve been out for hours since officer Roberts died. So maybe I’d been out a longer than I first thought, however it still doesn’t explain why my arm is mostly healed or how I’ve lost so much weight so quickly.

My mind boggles. “What’s happening to me? I should be dead or one of the undead at least?”

Where are all the police when you need one? And why aren’t they crawling all over the hospital? Since they’re not, I have to assume the same crazy shit is happening all over the place, or at least throughout this part of Burton.
I need a plan. I need to set some priorities.

1. Escape from the hospital

2. Find transportation

3. Find water and food.  Boy do I need food or so my belly keeps reminding me.

Waves of pain traverse my stomach followed by spates of growls. Sometimes the pain is that bad my toes curl. Food I need food. All I can think about is stemming this crave I have. I’m literally starving.

  My gaze drifts over to officer Roberts, I imagine his greasy skin dripping into the flames making them dance a yellowy orange as I slowly spit roast him. I swallow my drool as I salivate.

I look over to Jones’s corpse; her brain seeps out through the hole Roberts put there. Should I or shouldn’t I? What would it hurt? I think as I move closer to her tempting flesh.

I extend my tongue and taste. Hmm, it’s good. To be honest I expected to heave but no it’s actually really good. My belly lets out a prolonged growl. Seems I have its seal of approval.

I give into the temptation and scoop a handful of her brains and stuff them in my mouth.

“Whoa what’s happening?” I feel woozy. Images flood my mind. I see her at medical school dissecting a corpse. Snapshots follow of her husband and daughter. How can this be? How can I see her memories? I scoop another handful of her inner delights and quickly swallow them down. More images flood into my cerebral cortex. Then it hits me, her memories are transferring though her brain membranes.

I look to Roberts’s bloody corpse thinking, “I wonder? What if I ate some of his brains, would I see his memories too?” Curiosity gets the better of me and before I knew what I was doing I’ve took the 1911 from my belt and used the butt to crack his head open like a boiled egg and now feasting on his delicious brain.

 “Memories at the corner of my mind” I sing as more memories flood my system.

I see his mother on her deathbed. “Naughty Mr Roberts. Don’t you know it’s illegal to assist your mother to die?” I think while watching the scenario play out.

 Roberts is holding a pillow over her face. She doesn’t struggle and it’s all over in seconds. The strange thing is while I’m watching I can feel his guilt and anguish.

My hands start to twitch. You know that feeling when you have just quit smoking and you’re looking for something to occupy your hands? Well it is just like that. I fumble in the drawers for a pencil and paper and start to draw and a few seconds later I look down at my masterpiece. “Hmmm, that’s interesting because I can’t draw for shit”.

My eyes can’t believe I’m looking at a portrait of Officer Roberts’s mother. Then it hits me, maybe by eating their brains it gives me the ability to absorb their skills. My day has just become interesting don’t you think? I mean think of the possibilities.

I could eat a pilot’s brain and if my theory is correct I should be able to fly a plane. All of a sudden I’m quite excited however the question remains what have I become?

Yes, I can still feel my heart beating but judging by the way I look I’m certainly not human. So what am i?       
I take a few deep breaths and open the door to my room. Seems quite so I duck under Dr Jones’s corpse gasping loudly at what my eyes see before me.

Bodies lie twisted with appendages missing in pools of blood. Some or most look as though most of their flesh has been eaten or torn away, leaving little more than hair and wet glistening bones.

Bloodied, shredded bits of hospital security and nurse’s uniform litters the floor while ghostly moans echo from down the corridor.
I step out into the corridor, instantly sliding on some poor soul’s brain.

I look left to right. To my left a dozen walking dead dressed in hospital scrubs and others in gowns, mill around the nurses’ station. To my right two sets of lifts with a couple of runners stationed outside them with flared nostrils sniffing the air.
The rest are of the slow moving variety, almost dragging their feet, body parts lie strewn about the crimson tiled floor like discarded dolls.

It’s like a scene from a toddler’s tantrum. You know where they pull the arms and legs off their dolls when they can’t get what they want, although this is much bloodier.

One of the runners blocks the elevator door, causing it to open and close over and over again against his corpse. I watch as the pressure squeezes an eye out, it pops out and shoots through the air, landing a few feet from me and continues to roll coming to rest just in front of my foot.

I have to say I’m well freaked out when the frigging thing stares back at me still rolling it’s iris around. Squelch! Yep that’s the sound the eye made when my foot connected with it and added my full body weight. I lift my foot observing the aftermath of my attack to reveal white grisly residue with a tinge of black then head further down the corridor towards the lifts.

A pair of dead wearing hospital scrubs stands to my right, midway between my room and the emergency stairwell twenty feet ahead.

Soft sobbing is coming from a supply closet’s door nearby which prompts the two walking dead to shuffle forward and bang against the wooden surface.

I can see both are dead through the glass window. Blood stains their clothes and one is missing most of his forearm. Their moans grow louder and a few from the nurse’s station answer in kind.
“Fan-fucking-tastic” I curse softly under my breath. I need a distraction.

I crouch and waddle around Officer Roberts’s corpse to the hospital bed, grab the TV remote and hit the call button then waddle back.

I press my ear against the door listening for the chime.

For a minute I hold my breath and wait. I let out a sigh of relief as the moaning duo shuffle by my door to investigate.
I count to twenty, take several deep breaths then fully open the door.

A crowd of them gather around the nurse’s station moaning and shuffling in what could best be described as agitation. My feet slap wetly on the bloodied floor as I dash down the dimly lit corridor leaving a trail of bloody footprints all the way up to the emergency stairwell’s access door.
I pull the door open and draw my gun then quickly check the stairwell for more walking corpses.

Moans drift down from overhead and mingle with the loud growling of my stomach. Thankfully the stairwell is clear.

No sooner have I closed the door behind me than two bodies slam themselves against it, hard enough to shake the dust loose from the frame. I freeze on the spot, lift my gun and take aim looking at one ugly mother fucker with an eye missing that smears his tongue against the glass leaving his slimy residue. He has me in his sights. His nostrils flare wildly sniffing the air as he tries to acquire my scent.

These fuckers are faster than the others and from what I’ve observed use their noses to track their prey. They seem smart but apparently too stupid to use a door handle.

I turn on my heels and head down three flights of stairs deciding against putting a bullet in its forehead and head to the ground floor. I reach the bottom, my stomach lets out a loud growl as if to say “I’m still here and need feeding, you know” I squat and lean against the wall to catch my breath then place my ear against the door and listen for that familiar groan I’ve grown accustomed to.

I hear nothing. High above three floors up to be precise I can hear the remnants of fists banging against the door and chuckle to myself thinking “dumb fucks, all you had to do was turn the door handle and lunch would have been on me.”

I decide it’s best to keep a low profile so remain crouched.

I slowly pull the door open with one hand while the other holds my gun at the ready.

Beyond my position is a tiled corridor with four doors flanking either side; it ends with yet another door with a small window at face level. Emergency lights flicker overhead but no scenes of apparent violence tarnishes the floor’s polished surface.

Groans drift down from the stairwell, urging me to press on, so i quietly close the door behind me.

The soft slap of my feet seems terribly loud as I move forward. I pause, halfway to the other door as a wave of pain rips through my abdomen.

The pains unbearable and literally knocks me off my feet. I drop to my knees.

I take a minute to absorb some much needed oxygen then rise awkwardly to my feet. Then I hear it. It’s a human’s voice. I can hear whimpers and sobbing coming from the door to my right beneath a small sign that reads staffroom.
I place my hand on the handle and twist; it isn’t locked. I cautiously push it open then let my trusty gun lead the way letting the door softly close against my foot to slow its momentum so that it didn’t bang alerting the occupant/occupants in the room to my presence.

I cautiously enter.  Inside is a pair of long tables, several folding chairs, and a row of counters with a sink in its midst. To the left stands a large refrigerator. The cries continue and seem to be coming from beyond my line of sight so I move further in and head towards the sound of crying.

I reach the end of the tables and look down. I can see a pair of feet protruding out from beside the fridge. I move right slightly letting my gun lead the way.

“Please don’t shoot” a voice cries when she sees the barrel of my gun pointing in her direction.

I move right again until she is in full view. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” I ask.

“I.., I…, I” she stutters.

“Stop your crying you big baby and pull yourself together. Don’t you know the hospital is under siege from the undead?” Harsh I know but she needed telling.

   Again I repeat the question. This time she answers now that she has stopped her blubbering “I’m Rose. Who are you?” she enquires

“Me? I’m nobody. The less you know about me the better” I reply.

She sighs. “Well, I don’t think you work here, either that or your bedside manner is terrible.”

I shrug. “Yeah, something like that.”

She sighs again. “Well, which is it then? You don’t work here? Or your bedside manner is terrible?” she asks.

“Look Rose! I haven’t got time for twenty questions, we have to get out of here it’s only a matter of time till those dim wits upstairs figure out how to use a door handle then we’re both lunch. Now don’t get me wrong I’m not afraid to die but I don’t fancy being ripped limb from limb, do you?”

 “Shush. Did you hear that?” I continue to say whilst placing my finger over my lips.

“I didn’t hear a thing” she whispers in reply.

“Trust me, my ears don’t lie. I heard something. There it goes again” I reply whilst straining my ears.

I watch as she strains her ears. “Nope, still can’t hear anything” she replies.

I swear to god I heard the stairwell door slam. I was right and a few seconds later I hear the pitter patter of undead feet traversing the stairs at speed. “RUNNERS” I shout out loud.

Runners! “What are they?” rose asks bemused.

I lift my gun and with a two handed grip and take aim on the door replying “you’re about to find out.”

   “Find out what? You’re making no sense” she replies.

I fire two shots while watching the colour drain from her face as the first runner bursts into the room and decorate the adjacent wall with its brain.

The second one follows on the previous one’s heels and catches me off guard. It lunges forward like a wild animal pouncing on its prey and knocks me on my ass. Here I am on the floor with this snapping bastard trying to take a chunk out of me when I feel something wet splash against my face. The runner ceases its attack. Its greyish eyes stop moving. I look past its head to see rose standing over it brandishing a huge carving knife that now drips jet black blood.

 I have to say I’m completely overwhelmed and if I could cry I’d be crying now. I think she has earned my trust. She may have just saved my life. Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before. Maybe if she knew the real me the outcome would have been different and she would have let the blood sucker have his fill? However, I am grateful but I’m not going to tell her that. Well I can’t have her thinking I owe her one, now can I?

I throw the corpse to my right and shout at the top of my lungs “what did you do that for? I had it under control and I didn’t need your intervention.”

“Yeah, you’d be dead if I hadn’t intervened” She replies.

She was probably right but like I said I can’t have her thinking I owe her one so reply, “well I guess we’ll never know now? Will we?”

 “No, I guess not” she replies with a shrug of her shoulders.

Rose moves closer. Suddenly I feel like I’ve been placed under a microscope.

“Take a picture; it will last longer” I snarl when I decide her scrutinising of me has run its course.

She prods my face which I might add I found most annoying.

“What are you? Who are you? She asks as she continues to pry.

Hey! “Touch me again and that finger will be going where the sun doesn’t shine. Comprende?”

“Well aren’t you a mystery. I mean look at you. Your eyes are white and your skin has no pigmentation?” she says stating the obvious as she continues to poke and prod.

 LOOK! Rose just leave it. If I knew what I was I would tell you. So by all means let me know if you happen to work it out; will ya?” I reply down heartedly.

Her eyes suddenly widen. “Wait a minute, I know who you are. You’re that mass murderer that has been undergoing that experimental treatment aren’t you?” she enquires.

I sigh then shrug my shoulders replying “might be; what’s it to you?”

“Well you are or you’re not. Now which is it?” she asks.

“Well if I were this so called person don’t you think you ought to watch that tone otherwise she might forget her manners and rip you’re throat out. Does that answer your question?”

I watch as the colour drains from her face leaving her a pasty white.

She doesn’t answer. Her grip increases on the knife handle.

I roll my eyes. “Planning on using that, are you?” I ask smiling deviously.

“Erm, err” she replies then lets the knife fall to the floor.

“Hmm, didn’t think so” I reply throwing her a cheeky wink.

“Right rose, what ya got to eat in this dump? I’m starving” I ask as my belly lets out a loud rumble.

I can see I have instilled fear in her. She stares with a blank expression and points to the fridge.

I barge past her but stop midway and whisper “chill rose. If I wanted you dead you’d be dead already. Anyway you never know I might need a distraction and your fine ass will do just fine.”

She gulps loudly. That cockiness she once showed has now been replaced with fear.

I place my hand on her shoulder. “Oh rose, you’re so gullible. I’m fucking with you. Don’t look so serious. Of course I wouldn’t offer you up as a distraction. However, I might eat you myself”. I laugh loudly. Funnily enough she doesn’t see the funny side and knocks my hand off her shoulder saying “not funny.”

I smile. “Oh lighten up rose. Now, what have we got to eat then?” I reply opening the fridge.

 I peer inside. It’s strange I don’t seem to feel the cold. I look at the tasty morsels within opting for a large ham salad banquette and take a bite. Ewe! I spit it out and ask “what’s this supposed to be?”

“It’s exactly what it says on the wrapper” she replies cock sure of herself.

I roll my eyes then reply, “TONE ROSE” in a sing song voice.

 She lifts the wrapper to my eyes replying “Sorry but it is.”

 “Hmm, so it is. So why does it taste like shit?” I enquire.

She looks bemused. “I don’t understand; they were only delivered yesterday. Here let me try?” she says snatching it from my hand and proceeds to take a bite from the other end.

Cheeky sod, anybody would think I’ve got something. Biting it from the other end; the bloody cheek” I think whilst watching her throat swallow the contents in her mouth.

“See! Nothing wrong with that” she says wiping the crumbs from her mouth.

“Are you sure” I enquire bemused.

“Look! Its fine” she replies as she takes another bite.

Hey! “Give it here” I reply angrily snatching it from her hand and hungrily take a second bite. Ewe! “That’s even worse than the first bite” I reply frustratingly ejecting the contents of my mouth for the second time.

 Rose rolls her eyes then sighs replying, “Well it tastes fine to me. Maybe you eat brains like the rest of the monstrosities in here?”

Hey, maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m a modified version of one off those creatures and all I can eat now is BRAINS!!! I think to myself whilst letting my eyes roll to the runner sprawled on the floor with the top of his head missing. Top of his head missing! Hmm, that gives me an idea. I turn to rose. “You might want to avert your eyes while I just get a bite to eat.”

“Why would I avert my eyes?”

“Oh, I see” she replies while dry heaving into her hands as I scoop a handful of brains out of the freshly opened head and stuff it in my mouth and chew loudly. The sound of my Smacking lips and the sinewy debris dropping from my lips takes its toll on rose and seconds later she’s vomits into her hand. I think the tipping point was when I offered her a handful of brains saying “try it. Don’t knock it until you try it” yeah that’s when the dry heaving changed from dry to wet in a matter of seconds. Messy cow!

She wipes her mouth on her sleeve and throws me a look of disgust saying “that’s disgusting. What are you?”

“Deja-vous” i reply in a sing song voice.

I can feel her eyes burrowing into me as I wipe my chops on my sleeve.

“Are you going to eat my brains?” she asks.

“Nope, well not unless you want me to?” is my reply. Although the thought of a walking pantry is quiet appealing. Ha, ha, just picture it we’re walking along I turn to her and say “can we stop for a bite to eat? Now hold still while I take a bite from your leg. Oh well, I can dream can’t i?

 “Phew! You had me worried there for a second” she replies whilst letting out a huge sigh of relief.

I smile and with my stomach full and a new lease of energy coursing through my veins I decide it’s time to get the hell out of dodge. Well Burton at least.

  “Do you have any idea what the fuck is going on”? I ask slamming a chair down and straddle it like a cowboy.

My gun rests on my knee. I watch her eyes following its motion as I tap it up and down.
“Well, me and my colleague (god rest his soul) had this theory.”

“Yes go on” I reply.

“We think it has something to do with the ash from the meteor.”

“Hmm interesting” I retort while scratching my chin.

 “How would you know anything about this? You’re just a staff nurse” I reply sounding a little condescending.

 Yes! “I may only be a staff nurse but my fiancé was the lead scientist who created your treatment for your condition” Her eyes start to well.

“Where is he now? A man like that would be invaluable in our dire situation” I reply.

I see that she is in floods of tears. ROSE! “Enough with the blubbering; keep it together woman” I say light heartedly being very careful not to upset her any further.

She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and seems to take my words seriously. Well she would. Wouldn’t you if you just watched me scoop brains out a corpses head and eat them?

Rose takes a minute to gather herself then continues. “He was with me prior to you finding me. We were on the stairwell two of those monstrosities had us cornered. I thought we were going to for sure until Tony pushed me to one side and used himself as bait allowing me to escape. “God tony, I’m so sorry” she bawls.

“Jesus rose, enough with the tears and get on with the story” I snap. God she irritates me.

The thought of having her tag along with me is rapidly losing its appeal and for a split second I considered eating her.

 Ok! I’m curious what fresh uncontaminated brain tastes like.

Rose continues to tell her story. “I just left him to die. I didn’t even look back. I just ran. All I could hear was his screams dissipating the further I ran until he screamed no more. What must you think of me?”

I sigh. “Finished? I believe the question was what must you think of me? Am I right?”

“Yes”

“My answer to that question is where the fuck was my invite? I’m fucking starving” I joke.

  “It’s not funny! I loved that daft sod. Oh why did I leave him to die like that?” she sobs.

I lean forward on my chair and reply “because you’re a fucking coward!”

Her eyes well up yet a fucking gen. “I’m not a coward, I’m not” she cries.

“That’s it I’m eating your fucking brains. Seriously rose did you ever wonder why your fella threw himself to the wolves metaphorically speaking” I reply slamming my chair down on all fours to drive my point across.

“Please don’t eat me” she says whilst throwing her hands out in a defensive manner.

 For fucks sake Rose! “Stand the fuck up and shut your winy bitch ass up and get with the programme. If you’re going to tag along with me I need to know you have my back. Well have you?”

Her hands lower. “So… you’re not going to eat me then?” Her voice is shaky. Mind you wouldn’t yours be if I’d threaten to eat your brains?

I sigh. No your daft sod, now let’s get the hell out of here.”

I place my gun back in my belt and offer her my hand of friendship. She accepts and smiles gratefully. Yeah, grateful I didn’t eat her.

Chapter 4: Two Become Three

I take rose by the hand and escort her to the door. “Stay here while I check to see if it’s clear” I say with authority. She doesn’t argue and crouches beside the door. Why she crouched is beyond me. “Did I say wait here and crouch down?” Nope. Doesn’t she know she’s an easier target in that crouched position? Silly cow; she has a lot to learn.

I ease out the doorway letting my gun take the first peek. It seems clear apart from the odd shuffler but to honest they offer little threat. They are slow and cumbersome and I’ve no doubt in my mind if needs be I could easily outrun them.

I move further whilst beckoning rose to follow with my free hand. She waddles out behind me. We look like a couple of ducks out for a walk her being the chick and me the mother.

“Get the fuck up rose” I whisper.

She rolls her eyes but follows my orders and slides up the wall to her feet.

“Satisfied”? She snarls.

“ATTITUDE” I sing in a sing song voice.

“Sorry, I’m just scared that’s all” She replies with a shaky voice.

 I can tell she’s being truthful so decide to cut her some slack and suggests she leads.

  “Give me the gun then” she says and holds her hand out.

Yeah rite! “Ever fired a side arm?” I enquire.

Nope! “But how hard can it be?” she retorts whilst her hand remains persistent.

“I said no rose. Now retract that hand before I snap it off and stick it up your arse.”

She’s starting to grate on me. I’m starting to wish I could swap places with her fiancé.

Rose retracts her hand. I think she realised my threat wasn’t an empty one.

  We continue down the corridor in cover by cover formation.

“Shush, rose up ahead” I whisper whilst pointing in the direction of a lab coated man wrestling with a shuffler.

I turn to rose. “Hand me your knife, stay here and no sudden movements” I order taking the knife from her hand.

Hmm, I expected some resistance but nope the knife slides effortlessly from her hand.

I crouch down low and proceed down the corridor hugging the wall.

Shit! He’s seen me. “shush” I motion with my finger. He doesn’t heed my warning and starts to cry out “help me” at the top of his lungs. What a dick head.  Why didn’t he listen? Then I hear the pitter patter of runner feet. I have to act quickly otherwise rose and I are dead for sure and I’m nobody’s main course.

 I grasp the knife tightly with two hands and run as fast as my legs will go. Surprisingly fast I might add. I’m beginning to think I’m super human.

Shit I overshot. “Boy this floor is slippy” I think as I go sailing by.  Eventually I come to a controlled stop. Well not so much controlled. Let’s just say me and the wall got acquainted. I quickly double back and drive the knife through the side of the shufflers head. Ever cracked a wall nut with the nut cracker? Well now you know what a knife sounds like as it breaks through the skull.

I quickly pull the lab coated man to his feet and order him to run and stay close to me.

I pass rose and order her to follow. She does as she is told and follows closely behind until we reach a room at the end of the corridor. I push the door.  It’s locked. I can hear the runner gaining ground. I turn to rose and the new man in my entourage. “Don’t suppose anybody has the key card to open this door?”

“I have one” the lab coated man replies.

He quickly slides his card down the slot and we quickly enter. Just in time by all accounts here come the runners judging by the mass of tap dancing feet.

I peer through the glass window. Three runners sniff the air wildly flaring their nostrils trying to acquire our scents then rip the arms and legs off the shuffler and proceed to eat him sending a shower of tar like blood in three directions. I watch closely as they continue to eat. They grunt to each other. Now the strange thing is I don’t hear grunts but the others do. I hear actual words. “Nice bit of meat this” first one says.

“Yeah not bad but not as nice as that little blonde we had earlier” the second replies.

“Yeah she was real tasty” the third one adds.

How am I able to understand what they are saying? Maybe I was right and I’m one of them?

I turn to the lab coated man. “Jason is it?” I ask whilst staring at his name tag.

“Yes, that’s right. Thanks for saving me” he replies.

I lose my cool and punch him full bore in the face, knocking him on his ass.

“For Christ’s sake; what did you do that for?” he screams while holding his face.

I sigh. “Think about what I said to you in the corridor” I reply.

He seems in deep thought. “Oh right. I see now. You said be quiet.”

“Yeah I did and what did you do?”

“The opposite” He replies whilst rubbing his cheek.

“Damn right you did. You could have got us all killed. The next time I ask you to be quiet take heed or I swear to god I’ll end you myself” I retort frowning.

“Ok! ok! Point taken” he replies.

My eyes drop to his name tag. “Oh you’re a haematologist? What’s that exactly?” I ask.

He smiles.

 “Are you taking the piss or what? I snap angrily.

“No…. not at all. I just find it amusing you don’t know what it meant. I forget sometimes that not everybody is as smart as me” he replies smugly.

Jesus have you heard this prick? Not as smart as me? I’ll give him not smart so proceed to punch him in the face again, however this time I hold back. He’s quite a good looking guy with a shapely face dotted with stubble and a chiselled chin and sexy piercing blue eyes finish his look. So you can understand why I didn’t want to ruin his looks. Age wise I’d hazard guess of around 29-30.

My eyes glance to his hands then his feet. Hmm, fair sized hands, manicured nails. I move to his side and slide my foot out discretely and compare shoe sizes. Hmm, I’d say he’s a good size ten.

“Single, married, divorced?” I ask whilst staring into his baby blues.

He smiles. Replying “single”

“Yes! Get in” I think to myself whilst stealthily fist punching the air.

“However you’re not my type” he continues destroying my chances.

Oh well you can’t win them all can you? Anyway it’s always nice to keep a bit of eye candy around. You never know when you’ll fancy a nice sweet treat.

 I stare at the veins pulsating at the side of his temple thinking “boy I bet you taste sweet?”

Snap out of it Wooten. Are you going to let him put you down like that? I say to myself while metaphorically slapping myself across the face. No I’m not. So reply. “You’re nothing special either.”

He smiles then rubs his chin. Yeah right! “You keep telling yourself that?” he chuckles.

Cocky vein twat! I thought Rose was a grade A pain in my ass but this guy is on another level.

In the short time I have known Rose she has got to know quickly what I will tolerate and what I won’t and butts in saying “Jason don’t! You don’t know who or what she is and what she is capable of but I do and trust me she not one to fuck with.”

“No rose he doesn’t; but he will if he doesn’t lose that chip on his shoulder” I reply smugly.

BANG! BANG! We all turn in unison startled and face the bloody hand prints on the glass window of the door and gasp loudly. The runners have found us and bang their heads and fists frantically against the glass.

Jason! “Is that re-enforced glass?” I ask 

“Erm… yes, I think its tempered” He replies.

“Phew! Well that should keep them out” I reply.

My eyes peruse the room. There are no other doors or windows. I pat the wall looking for weak spots. It’s solid. Seems we are trapped leaving me with two options.

I could shoot my way out, however that has its drawbacks and I might need the precious bullets I spend later, that and it could possibly attract more runners to our location.

 My other option is sacrifice one of my new friends. Do you know something? I’m going to call them colleagues that way if I offer one up as a distraction it doesn’t sound so bad as friend does it? 

“Now who’s it going to be? I wonder” I think whilst my eyes peruse over the pair.

Hmmm, ok I have come to a decision. Sorry Rose, your winy bitch ass has got to go.

I casually walk past Jason and lift the card from his pocket. He doesn’t seem to notice it missing.

I grab rose by the arm with one hand whilst the other brandishes the carving knife held tightly in a vice grip behind my back. My heart starts to pound faster and faster. I don’t want to do what I’m about to do but what choice do I have? I see no other way out of this predicament I find myself in. its kill or be killed.

“Rose, come over here a second. I want to talk to you” I say pulling her to follow.

She smiles. God, that’s just made things ten times worse. “Quick Rose say something annoying. I’ll make it quick and painless, I promise” I think while trying to wipe her sweet smile from my thoughts.

Annoying doesn’t happen and with little choice I drag her to the door and quickly slide the card down the slot. The door beeps and the light turns green. Rose’s eyes widen. I think in that moment she knew what I was about to do.

The next few minutes happen so fast my head is still a blur and in one swift move I spin rose to face the door and whisper softy “sorry rose I have no other choice” with those parting words I reluctantly slice her throat with military precision spraying her precious life force against the glass then pull open the door and throw her to the vultures that are circling outside the door.

I reach back and grab Jason’s arm. “Jason run and stay close to me if you want to live” I scream.

His face is white. He stands fast frozen to the spot. His eyes are pinned wide open.

I shout my demands once more. This time he responds. His eyes return to a normal state and follows hot on my heels.

 I exit the door and glance down at rose who lies wide eyed while the three hungry vultures tear her apart marring the clean tiled floor with eight pints of her blood.

Fuck it! Jason run to end of that corridor and wait for me there” I scream in his face.

At first he is reluctant to leave me. “I said run or I’ll shoot you myself. That seemed to do the trick. Now I can’t see him for dust, metaphorically speaking.

You see I’m not that evil. Throwing rose to these vile creatures and seeing her torn apart has taken its toll. I draw my gun and quickly take aim. BANG! BANG! BANG! Echoes breaking the still silence as I fire three consecutive rounds, the first enters and exits in a mist of black like tar leaving a hole in the side of one of the runner’s head. The second enters at the top of the skull and exits through his chin and the third enters through its left cheek and exits the back of its skull sending a shower of black like tar against the wall behind him.

I look down at rose. “What a mess” I think staring at her blood-stained corpse.

PITTER PATTER! PITTER PATTER! “Shit, shit, shit, why do I let my emotions rule me? Now look what you’ve done” my inner voice says to me as three more runners rapidly approach sniffing the air.

With three more precious rounds already spent I can’t afford to waste anymore so without further ado I say “bye rose” kiss what’s left of her head and take flight hoping that rose’s body will be a satisfactory diversion to slow them down. Fortunately, it is.

They stop at her corpse sniffing the air. Then bend down and tuck into her body. The noise from their slopping chops has me salivating in seconds but I resist the urge to join them and tuck in and join Jason at the end of the corridor.

“Why would you do that to rose? He asks frantically shaking me.

I grab his jacket in both hands and with one swift move lift and pin him against the wall replying “shut it! I had a choice to make. You ought to thank your lucky stars I didn’t choose you. Now shut it. ok?”

Inside I’m chuckling to myself as he looks down at his dangling feet that are now hovering a foot from the floor.

 Ok! Point taken; I’m listening. Please don’t kill me” he begs as tears fill his eyes.

“Oh my god, don’t even think about it. If one tear rolls from your eyes I swear as god as my witness, I will pull them out with my fingers. I have just got rid of one winy bitch, please don’t turn out to be another? I snarl with my fingers poised to tear them out.

“Ok! ok! Look no tears” he squawks whilst wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

I lower him to eye level. “Look!  I had a choice to make and I made it and the only reason you’re still breathing is your profession. I’m hoping you can make sense of what’s happening to me?” I say then lower him the rest of the way to the floor.

He tutts. Whilst straightening his clothes that I have ruffled.

I turn to face him. “Where in this dump can I find a microscope?” I ask.

He scratches his head and appears to be in deep thought. “First floor but that’s inaccessible due to the quake bringing down part of the second floor” he replies.

“Shit! Aren’t there any others? What about the haematology lab?” I ask.

He sighs then shrugs. “Sorry, like I said that floors inaccessible.” “Wait a minute, I think there’s one on the first floor but I’m not sure if it still works because it hasn’t been used for a while” he replies whilst pointing its location out on the wall chart.

“Ok, first floor it is. When I say move, you move. Trail behind and I’ll leave you for dead. Nod if I’m making myself clear?” I say drawing my gun to replace the spent rounds.

He nods. “Ok, on me, after three. 1, 2, 3 run.”

I can see the emergency stairs door sign blinking on and off. “Stay on me where heading for the stairway” I whisper.

“Halt” I order as two shufflers shuffle by.

I wait patiently for the two to pass then sneak up behind them, quickly dispatching them with two precise strikes to the head with the butt of my gun which knocks them to the ground then follow through by stamping on their heads. Have you ever smashed a pumpkin? Well that’s exactly what they look like once I have finished my stomping fit. However, pumpkins don’t make as much mess when you stomp on them.

We reach the door. I crouch with my gun drawn and slowly pull open the door whilst ordering Jason to stay low. He does as he is told and crouches down.

I strain my ears listening for any signs of life or dead might be the rite appropriation. I hear and see nothing. I give the all clear with a gesture from my hand and we proceed down a level. We reach the entry to the first floor and I again I crouch surveying the area.

I open the door. Its hinges squeak. So not to make our presence known I slow my momentum and gently ease it open trying to make as little noise as possible and pop my head around the door.

This floor has seen some serious action. The walls are tinged in crimson red where some poor unfortunate soul had been bitten and his arterial spray had painted the walls in a pretty pattern.

Body parts lie strewn around the floor. An arm here a leg there. It is plain to see a lot of people lost their lives on this floor. I look further still. A headless torso leans against the wall. A pair of red eyed rats takes it in turns to take chunks of flesh from its abdomen. Then one gets wrapped in the torsos intestines and proceeds to run with a trail of what can only be described as sausages behind it. I chuckle finding it rather amusing.

“What’s so funny?” Jason asks.

I chuckle again then reply “Oh it was nothing really; it just tickled me that’s all.”

“What did?” he enquires.

I sigh. “Well if you must know a rat got entwined in a torsos intestines and then took them for a spin down the corridor” I reply.

“And you find that funny? Bit insensitive don’t you think? That was a living breathing human at some point. Have some respect” He retorts putting me in my place, however I suppose he had a valid point. So reply “yes of course. I did act insensitive but it was so………. Funny” I crack up in hysterics. His face says it all and he isn’t amused. Do I care? Do I hell as like. Pretty boy should get a sense of humour.  

thanks for reading, that was just a taster

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