Look At His Pain!
It had only been one day since the infected escaped the lab and the
unimaginable has happened. This virus has mutated and spread throughout the
population faster than anyone could have ever imagined. Even the scientists
that ran the initial experiment are on the run, attempting to escape the storm
of undead that approach.
“…God, the plagued army approaches,” John
exclaimed. “Oh God, what have I done?
Quickly men… Run”
“John, follow your own
advice brother,” George cried out to his colleague, “you cannot win!”
“No one can!” Richard said,
“We must find shelter.”
John peered at Richard, “Shelter, we do not need shelter, we need a laboratory; a lab where I
can find an antidote for this festering rot.”
“I do not care if you blame
yourself for this infestation, it’s about survival now,” Richard fired back.
“Haven’t we lost enough already.”
As the group of scientists ran for
their lives, they made a startling discovery. One of them was unfortunately
ensnared by this hoard. From a distance the mutation was clear, the rotting
flesh, their moans, their wretched smell overwhelming everything and everyone
in their path. Paul was in grave danger.
George glanced down the hill, “John--Richard… Paul cannot hear us. He is trapped down there with those
vile things.”
“Sadly, we cannot wait for him much longer. While tragic, his sacrifice
may be our salvation. We must survive!” John said, looking back toward the others, “A cure for my mistake is all that can truly save us.”
“Give up already John, too much blood has been shed already,”
Richard replied, “We must find shelter;
survive.”
“Quick, give me that
rock,” George called out, “Paul is
trapped by that disease ridden blonde. With a perfect shot, maybe I can buy him
some time.”
“No! George; Paul
decided to venture out of our session into this pandemic on his own,” John
said, “That arrogant prick deserves what
he has coming to him.”
“John, let it
be,” George said, “No one deserves to
be put through that. Help me… Save him!”
“George, for
once I agree with John; at this moment, we are better off without him,”
Richard said, “We must escape before
those zombies find us.”
“Oh God, look…
Paul… No-o-o! The pain, oh God, no, look at his pain.” George screamed, “The skulls, not the skull, th-th-they are
eating him!”
“What George,
no way!” John said, “They must be
mutating… We must find a lab!”
“I do not know about you, but any
type of shelter would be perfect right now,” Richard said.
“Oh God, they
are sharing him; engulfing him,” George sobbed. “Those maggot lovers are drinking his blood!”
The revolting sea was indeed devouring him; his screams for
assistance drowned by the disturbing sound of his meat being torn apart. They
tore him limb from limb until his divine grey was unveiled for the mass. They
were fighting each other off for a chance at one piece of his delicious meat.
His last chance of survival snuffed out by a single bad decision. What was the
world coming to?
“George,
you are right! We must find shelter… Give me time to go through my journals,”
John muttered. “The answer must be there,
it has to be.”
“Come on
guys, over there,” Richard said, “the
cemetery gates are open, maybe we can find a crypt to barricade ourselves into.
Maybe the smell of death will keep them away.”
“Yes… Yes… The cemetery is a great idea Richard,” John said, “our redemption can begin with the Lord!”
“George...
Come quickly before they see you, Paul’s death will allow our escape,”
cried Richard.
“Look,
that tomb, the door, that could be perfect!” John said moving through the gates,
“there I can hopefully determine where my
formula went wrong.”
“Enough
already John; we are in no position to attempt any type of experiment. Maybe
once this hoard passes, we can return to our lab by the river,” Richard
scoffed. “Maybe we can return to where
this plague began.”
“George,
over here!” shouted John as he entered the vault.
“I’m
here, close the door!” George screamed as he took the final steps into the
ossuary.
Richard looked at their situation, “we should be safe here; maybe we will
survive this terror.”
“Maybe,” John replied, “if we are lucky.”
Incredibly,
it appeared as though the tomb may save them, as the undead mob went by instead
of searching the cemetery for dinner. What as it that kept them away, was it
the overwhelming scent of decay? The scientists sat staring at their temporary
sanctuary, thankful to be alive. They
were thankful that they did not become like Paul.
