By Tracey King
The beginning of the sickness
In the beginning, the virus, NecroVID21 (or NVID), spread like the common cold. It started off simply enough, similar to a mild flu, and doctors suggested treating the symptoms and it would go away. A few months in, however, a man in a small town in Indiana, was said to have taken a turn for the worse. He tested positive for a new strain of NVID, the world’s first confirmed case. The start of the sickness consisted of increased fatigue and high fevers, but overnight it seemed to escalate into a horror that no one was prepared for. Abscesses broke out all over his body, weeping a gelatinous green fluid that smelled of coffin dirt and spoiled fruit. He continued declining, new symptoms showing up daily. He was vomiting a black, tar-like substance, his putrid breath permeating the air in his hospital room. Two days later, he developed Necrotizing Fascitis, a severe bacterial infection that causes the tissue under the skin to rapidly decay. Sloughs of graying flesh slipped to the floor with a sickening wet sound. His agonizing screams turned into moans of horrific pain as the virus slowly devoured him. He was hospitalized early, isolated from the other patients.
One evening, his wife came to visit, wiping her nose with a handkerchief, a hacking cough punctuating the quiet hall of the isolation ward. Unknowingly, each cough spread the new strain of the virus, the same one killing her husband. First, to their son’s teacher when she went in for a conference at his school earlier that day. It had moved like wildfire through the halls after that, the entire student body and staff having contracted it by the end of the last period. They didn’t know, no one did, that there was a new strain, and so no one took precautions. As the wife walked through the halls of the hospital to her husband’s room, she coughed again, the janitor pushing a trash can past her inhaling the sickness, who then proceeded to pass it to the gift shop employee that he stopped by to say hi to every day. When the woman rang up a drink several minutes later, she coughed onto the back of her hand before handing the receipt to the nurse who was buying it, and the other woman breathed the virus in. By nightfall, the whole hospital was marked for death. Her husband’s doctors believed they had isolated him in enough time. The CDC was en route to the small town after being notified two days after the man was admitted. Somewhere along the line, the ball was dropped. One mistake after another lead to the downfall of mankind. What could have been contained, ended up taking half of earth’s population to the grave in a matter of weeks.
As the wife walked into her husband’s room, she neglected to put on the hazmat suit she was supposed to wear whenever she was visiting. Her breath caught in her throat when she noticed a thick, blue sheen covering his body. It looked like a new skin. She made sure that no one was around or passing by in the halls, and proceeded to unzip the quarantine curtain, reaching her hand in to hold his. She did this each time she visited, giving him comfort in the midst of this painful nightmare. She could not accept he was dying. A praying woman, she talked to God, begging him to save her love. The wife firmly believed he would be saved, and come back home to her. When she touched his hand, she gasped at the nauseating feeling of what was most assuredly his new flesh. It had a slickness to it, a wetness seeping from the pores. The taut, bluish covering was simultaneously pliable and hard, like the hide of an alligator. She squeezed his hand slightly, testing the new flesh. Her husband didn’t react like he normally did when she touched him. There was no groan of pain, no twisting of his body to find a comfortable position that no longer existed. He seemed at peace, and she wondered if this was the start of the healing process.
The wife felt a tear trail down her cheek, her emotions running high at the possibility that he would heal from this. Mucus was leaking out of her nose at a rapid pace and she tried sniffing it up. The sound caused her husband’s eyelids to tear open, his horrid eyes immediately focusing on her. She shrieked in terror when she saw the milky white orbs riddled with busted blood vessels staring at her, unblinking. His wife moved to pull away, but he gripped her hand harder, squeezing until the bones cracked. A scream tore through the room, and her husband seemed unfazed by the pain he was causing his beloved. She kept screaming, trying desperately to pull away, but he would not relent. His vice-like grip tightened more, a crunching sound like a gunshot echoing all the way to the nurses station. The doctors and nurses were suiting up in their hazmat gear as soon as they heard the first shriek, running into the patient’s room one by one as they finished dressing. They froze in the doorway, staring in horror as the patient gripped his wife’s fingers so tightly that blood was dripping from between the couples joined hands. She was pale white, shock leeching all color from her skin. Her screams paused momentarily as she looked at the nurses and doctors, her eyes pleading for help.
With her attention focused on the staff in the doorway, she briefly tuned out the horror on the bed. She didn’t see her husband slowly rise to a sitting position, his hand still gripping her shattered one. The wife whispered “Help me” to the staff, causing their paralysis to break. They moved as one toward the patient and his wife. But it was too late. Before they even made it to the bed, the wife’s screams echoed through the halls once more. Her husband of seventeen years, the father of her child, the man she wanted to grow old with, had ripped her mangled hand from her wrist. He tore it clean off, an inhuman strength surging through him along with an intense need to eat that gnawed at his insides. A nurse screamed, a doctor barked orders at the rest of the staff, but then everyone stopped in their tracks as they watched his mouth widen farther than humanly possible, and shove his wife’s hand into his mouth. He chewed on the broken bones, bloody pulp simultaneously slipping down his throat as it dribbled down his chin, satisfying his hunger for flesh. The doctor turned to the side and vomited. A nurse ran screaming from the room, intent on finding help but refusing to stay in that room a moment longer. The other nurses sprung into action, one grabbing the ghostly pale woman who was silently staring at the bloody stump where her hand should have been and leading her quickly from the room. The other nurse ran to the med cart, preparing the injection the doctor had ordered to sedate the patient.
Sadly, the nurse was too close to the bed where she was standing, readying the sedative. The patient’s attention focused on her. The man lunged through the unzipped portion of the curtain landing on the nurse with an animalistic growl. She screamed, and his long fingers circled around her neck before biting off a large chunk of her shoulder. The doctor recovered, springing into action and grabbing the sedative his colleague had dropped. He plunged the syringe into the man’s arm, and watched as the needle broke against the new, reptilian skin that had hardened into an armor, protecting the monster the man had become. He stared in horror, unable to move, to run away, to save the woman who was being eaten right in front of him.
The patient, blood dripping from his mouth and spattering across the floor, ripped off the head of the nurse, throwing it at the doctor with a malicious grin on his face. The doctor fell to the floor, thick blood soaking his scrubs where the head had hit him. The man’s sores had dried up and faded away, his new flesh leathery and unblemished. Every strand of hair on his body had fallen out, his nails lengthening into predatory claws. His pale eyes roamed the room, seeing everything and nothing at once. He sniffed the air and looked down at the front of the doctor’s pants, noticing a dark stain spreading as the fear caused his bladder to release. The doctor lay on the floor, watching in horror as something undulated beneath the man’s skin, slithering along his arms under the armored flesh. There was a maniacal giggle from the grotesque humanoid, and then he pounced on the doctor. The monster’s nails dug into the other man’s eyes, and his maw widened once more, his sharp teeth piercing the doctor’s flesh as the hideous creature tore out a large portion of the man’s neck.
The doctor’s screams turned into gurgles. As he lay blind and dying below his patient, he could hear the emergency alarms shrieking in the halls outside of the room. His last moments were spent being eaten from the neck down, laying in his own blood that was slowly spreading and mixing with the thick fluid that leaked from the headless corpse nearby. There was the thundering sound of many feet running down the hallway, and then the darkness took him, snuffing the man out of existence. In the days that followed, the whole town was quarantined as one by one, people started to change. The new strain grew in strength, spreading around the world within weeks no matter how hard they tried to stop it. The world was doomed from the start, information that could have prevented it never having reached the general public until it was too late. It was no longer called NVID, after that first case and the horror that had taken the lives of several people that day, including the creature, who had been killed by several armed police officers. A new name had been uttered on the news one night days later, after several cases across the state had sprouted up. It was whispered by the dying, shouted by the survivors, forever changing the world as we know it.
The Devouring Death.
Two weeks after the start
Jaxson Corvis walked out of the sky bridge and into the chaotic noise of the Atlanta airport. The overhead speaker rambled on about flights being canceled amidst the pandemic that had quickly spread across the United States and was now hitting other parts of the world. Jaxson, known to his friends as Jax, was a thirty-two year old author who had been in New York meeting with his agent and publisher about his next book. Jax loved horror- reading, writing, and watching it. He just didn’t like living it. When his agent, Brant, saw that the virus had spread to all fifty states and the airports were starting to cancel flights, he cut the meeting short so Jax could fly home, driving him to the airport immediately. Jax’s flight ended up being the last one out of New York. All flights were canceled after. Jax breathed a sigh of relief as he boarded the plane, settling into the last available seat. It was an exorbitant amount since he switched his flight last minute, but Jax didn’t care. He couldn’t stand the thought being in lockdown so far away from home.
Jax quickly walked to his car in the airport parking lot. He was very thankful he had decided to drive instead of getting an Uber. It was bad enough having to walk through the airport not knowing who was carrying the virus. He didn’t want to be stuck in a vehicle with someone who was sick. Jax hadn’t yet heard the gory details of what had transpired in Indiana several days ago, he just knew the virus was getting worse and the world was going on lockdown. The majority of the population had no clue at that point just how bad it was, and there were people protesting the lockdown, throwing their government issued masks on the ground in defiance. Jax was on what he considered the right side of the law, believing that something horrible was consuming the world, he just didn’t know the gory details yet. He followed the rules, a mask staying on him while in public since he got on the plane to New York the day before. He didn’t see a point in fighting it. It could only help stop the spread of this superbug, not hurt anyone further.
He drove to the small town in North Georgia where he was from, intent on checking on his parents before heading out to his own home in the country. It was times like these that he was thankful he had used the advance money from his last book to buy a cabin far from town, with no neighbors for miles. The streets were quiet, Jax only seeing the occasional car on the road. He passed several military vehicles heading towards Atlanta as he drove away, and he worried about just how serious this virus was getting. He turned the radio on, searching through the stations for information, but it was only pre-recorded shows on some channels, and nothing but static on others. Jax arrived in the small town of Edington at dusk, two hours after leaving the airport, and was shocked to discover boarded up shops and empty streets. He slowed his car to a crawl, searching the windows for signs of life. A curtain swayed in one window, a light flickered in another. He made his way to his parents home at the end of Main Street. Parking his car at the end of the driveway, he turned off the engine and got out, stretching his back as he listened for any signs of life outside. Jax’s eyes trailed over the houses nearby, glimpsing shadows behind gossamer curtains, but never seeing the face of another human.
His dog, Marley, barked excitedly from the backyard, jumping against the wooden privacy fence. He knew his owner had returned. Jax smiled, his best bud was just as excited for their reunion as he was. He bypassed the front door and walked over to the fence, opening up the gate and preparing himself to be tackled. Sure enough, his ninety pound black lab launched himself at Jax, bringing them both to the ground in a heap. Marley covered Jax’s face in slobber, a soft whine of excitement as he danced around on his owner. Jax laughed, hugging his good boy before pushing him gently off and standing back up.
“I missed you, too, boy.” Jax said, using his shirt sleeve to wipe off the drool painted across his face. Marley let out a quick bark, winding around Jax’s legs. Jax patted his dog on the head and whistled for him to follow as they walked through the fenced in yard to the back door. His parents always left it unlocked when Marley was out, so he thought he would walk right in and surprise them. He opened the screen door on the porch, holding it wide so Marley could follow. A low whine came from Marley, as the happy dog changed into a terrified one. His tail tucked between his legs as he backed away from the porch.
Jax frowned as he looked down at this dog, never seeing this behavior before. Marley loved staying here, loved being spoiled by his grandma and grandpa. They adored Marley and were always happy to keep him when Jax had to fly to New York. Jax looked at the back door that opened into his parents kitchen, and his heart started pounding when he saw the streak of blood on the window. He slowly made his way to the door, peeking in through the pane of glass and seeing nothing amiss at first in the fading light of the evening. His hands shook as he grabbed the doorknob, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead when he slowly opened the door. Terror wrapped its icy fingers around his heart as he entered their house. Jax turned and looked back at Marley, the big dog cowering just outside of the porch, whining softly as he watched his owner. He was shocked at his dog, his protector that never seemed to be afraid of anything. What had happened here to scare him like this? Jax wondered.
“Stay there, Marley.” Jax whispered before entering the house. He glanced around the kitchen, seeing the odd sight of dirty dishes piled high in the sink. His mother worked hard at keeping the house clean, never allowing dishes to accumulate for even a second. Stale food was crusted on the plates, flies buzzing around the mess. The scent of curdled milk and rancid meat reached his nostrils, and he gagged a couple of times before covering his nose and mouth with his shirt. He made his way towards the living room, his eyes covering every surface for signs of his parents or clues to what had happened here. He knew in his gut that something was horribly wrong, and he didn’t want to venture further and find out what.
“Mom? Dad?” Jax yelled out, his voice echoing in the gloom of the small home. He entered the living room, the yellow glow of a table lamp illuminating the space. On the table by the armchair sat a faded copy of the phone book next to his parents’ cordless phone. Dust motes were floating in the rays of the dying sunlight filtering in from between the drawn curtains. He could still hear Marley’s faint cries from the porch. The room smelled musty, with an undertone of decay permeating the small space. Jax stepped carefully towards the hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath his weight. From down the hall, he heard a faint rustling sound, as if something was being dragged lightly across the carpeted floor. He froze, fear rooting him to the spot. There was something inherently wrong with all this. He could feel it in his bones, the cold weight of dread settling like a rock in his stomach.
A soft moan, laced with pain, echoed down the empty hall. The sound broke his paralysis and he walked slowly towards the back of the house. He looked into what was once his room, and saw that his childhood furniture lay in pieces, strewn about haphazardly. The curtains were ripped to shreds, the mattress from the twin bed looked as if something with long claws dug into it to pull the stuffing out. Everything that had been left in his closet when he moved out was now broken debris scattered throughout the tiny room. His eyes narrowed when he spotted something gray on the ground, that glistened with moisture. He kneeled down next to it, and it took him a moment to realize it was skin. He swallowed bile, his heart beating a fast and steady rhythm against his ribs. The moan came again, louder than before. It was a raspy, androgynous voice, and he couldn’t tell if it was his mother or father.
“Mom? Is that you?” Jax’s voice was low, barely louder than a whisper. He stepped towards their room, readying himself for whatever horror he was about to face. He put his back against the wall, growing more terrified with every inch that brought him closer. Jax halted, his breath catching in his throat, when he saw a skeletal, blue hand reach out from their doorway. Long black nails sunk into the old brown carpet and pulled the body the hand was attached to. He heard that familiar rustling sound again, and knew that this was the cause. A body was being dragged across the floor, a hungry groan following each pull towards the doorway. Slowly an arm came into view. He felt his eyes burn with tears when he recognized the silver bracelet his mother always wore dangling from the wrist. The blue skin looked like wrinkled leather wrapped around a bony arm.
As the hand pulled the body into the hallway, a small head, devoid of any hair, moved past the doorway. The person’s, or monster’s, grotesque face came into view. Chalky eyes laced with a web of broken capillaries immediately focused on Jax, a raw hunger distorting its sickly features. A black tongue whipped out and licked cracked lips as the horrid creature made its way slowly towards him. Had it not been for the bracelet, he wouldn’t have recognized her right away. He could now see in the shape of her eyes and the slight bump in her nose that it had once been his mother. As the rest of her naked body came into view, Jax saw the reason she had to crawl towards him.
Jax’s mother was missing her other arm, the appendage torn off at the shoulder. One leg was completely shattered. A chaotic tangle of bone fragments protruded through the leathery flesh. The foot on her other leg was turned in the opposite direction, the ankle large and swollen. She looked like she had been in a battle to the death, which worried him when wondering what had happened to his father. The abomination that used to be his mother slowly made its way towards him, black ichor from its wounds making a spotted trail on the carpet. The viscous fluid was foul smelling, and had a sickly, glistening sheen to it. Jax didn’t know what to do, carefully stepping back as he contemplated his next course of action. He weighed his choices, and with a broken heart, he made his decision.
Jax entered the living room and grabbed the wrought-iron poker from the fireplace. He made his way back into the hall. The struggling corpse had moved only inches when he was gone. His mother elicited a raspy moan, her hungry eyes fixated on her son. A tear leaked out of Jax’s eye, trailing down his cheek. He raised the fire poker into the air, bringing the sharp point down on his mothers head. It was difficult to penetrate the hardened skin, but Jax put all of his emotion into the swing and was able to do enough damage.
“I’m so sorry, mom.” Jackson cried as he repeatedly impaled her skull with the fire poker. Eventually, her movements stopped, her white eyes becoming glassy with the final death. He stood there crying over his mother for a moment, his muscles trembling from the exertion of what he had done, before resuming the exploration of his childhood home. He carefully made his way into the main bedroom. Furniture was torn apart here as well. Puddles of the dark bodily fluid from his mother soaked into the carpet, the putrid liquid congealing on the walls. He was about to turn to leave when he saw a foot laying in the doorway of the main bath. He slowly walked over, gripping the fire poker tighter until his knuckles turned white. The oozing, black substance coated the tip, and the rotten stench that emanated from it and made Jax queasy.
His breath caught in his throat as he entered the bathroom. The severed head of his father lay in the bathtub while the rest of his partially eaten body parts were strewn about the floor. His father had turned as well into a hideous monster. The protective armor of his skin looked softer, the blue tint fading after death. He knew it was his father, the ring finger on the left hand was visible in the grisly scene of the bathroom. It was the only finger still attached, a morbid testament to the violence that had taken place between his parents. A wide, dark gray tungsten wedding band still rested on that lone finger. Through the black blood splatter, he could see the engraving of the infinity symbol on it. His mother had it specially made for his father, and he never took it off. They had suffered greatly. The virus had painfully made its way through their bodies, changing them from the wonderful people who had been his parents to the grotesque creatures that had devoured each other.
Jax threw the poker down on the floor, and retrieved his fathers ring. He went out into the hall and unclasped his mothers bracelet, sticking both in his pocket. There was nothing else he desired in this house, the two most important people to him gone from this earth. He walked back outside to a whining Marley. The dog was curled up in the grass near the porch, his tail thumping when Jax walked into view. He immediately bounded up, waiting excitedly for his human to step out into the fading evening light. Jax walked right past Marley and out into the yard several feet before bending at the waist and violently vomiting into the grass. Marley walked up beside him, standing there patiently waiting for Jax to finish.
When Jax was done, he stood up, his hands shaking from the events that had just transpired. He looked over at Marley and patted his head, his dog happy to finally have Jax’s attention. “Come on, boy,” Jax whispered. “Let’s go home.” The large, black dog trotted by Jax’s side to his car. Jax felt like the only human left in the world, and he worried for the future, for humankind. But mostly he was worried about contracting the virus, if he hadn’t already, and dying a miserable death all alone.
As Jax drove through town, he saw abandoned cars, vacant homes, and when he looked closer in the glare of the street lights, dark liquid was sprayed across sidewalks and store fronts. Fear clutched at Jax’s heart when he realized his entire hometown had been affected. He made his way out of the city, determined to put as much distance as possible between himself and whatever living corpses were still around. It was full dark out by the time they reached their cabin. Jax got out of his car, allowing Marley to jump out after him. He grabbed his overnight bag and they headed inside. He was looking at the world differently, the horror at his parents house having shattered a small part of his sanity. The comfort he used to feel coming home was a fleeting memory. Loneliness, even with Marley right beside him, settled like a weight on his heart, and he was suddenly too exhausted to do anything but drag himself to his bedroom. He collapsed on the bed, black ichor stained clothing and sneakers still on, and was falling asleep before Marley even had a chance to settle down next to him.
****
The gray light of the quiet morning filtered in through the windows when Jax woke up. He had slept the night away, his intention only being to sleep for a couple of hours. Marley hadn’t been fed and Jax could feel a hunger gnawing at his own stomach. He rolled over, his thoughts of yesterday jumbled in his mind like a fragmented dream. He believed that was all it was until he sat up and looked down at his clothing. The dark liquid from shattering his mothers skull was dotted across his shirt, and suddenly the terrifying ordeal came crashing back. He gasped for breath, emotion choking him, before openly weeping at the loss of his parents. It was so horrific, so grotesque, that he desperately wanted to believe none of it had been real. Sobs tore through him as he recalled his fathers severed head, and the groans his mother made as she crawled towards him, intent on eating her son after having gorged herself on her own husband.
Marley laid at his human’s feet, a breathy whine occasionally slipping out. He was hungry, but could feel the despair from Jax, and so he lay there comforting him like the good dog that he was. Jax sank down to the wooden floor and wrapped his arms around Marley, seeking solace from his best friend. Eventually, the tears subsided into hiccups and then Jax stood up, Marley rising with him. He patted his dog’s head, scratching behind the ears like Marley loved.
“Thank you, boy.” Jax said, his voice scratchy from the overflowing emotion. “Let’s go get you something to eat.” Marley’s ears perked up at his favorite word and he dashed ahead of Jax to the kitchen, ready to scarf down a bowl of his dog food. A small smile crossed Jax’s face at the sight of his excited dog. It was just the two of them now, in a world falling apart. He would protect his best friend no matter what, because that lumbering, black dog was all he had left.
Once in the kitchen, Jax poured dog food into Marley’s food bowl and filled up his water. He then walked over to the dining room and unlocked the doggy door, giving Marley access to the deck and fenced yard from the back entrance. Jax walked over to the fridge to see what he felt like eating, when a horrible pain tore through his stomach. He managed to make it to the kitchen sink in time before vomiting up the thick, black fluid similar to what had bled from the wounds on his parents. Alarm bells screamed inside his head when he turned on the faucet and watched the syrupy liquid wash down the drain. Oh fuck! Please tell me that I don’t have the virus! Jax thought to himself, panic clawing at his throat.
A wave of body aches swept over him and his head felt painfully stuffed. He wandered back to his room, taking off his clothes and shoes in a trail on his way to the bathroom before stepping into the shower. He scrubbed away the grime, the stains of the horror from his parents house, and the heartache that seemed to seep from his pores. He doubled over for a minute, the sharp pain intensifying in his abdomen before lessening to the point where he could breathe again. He stood up straight, tears mixing with the spray of hot water, his hand covering the area that never ceased to ache. Jax was reaching over to turn off the faucets when he felt a movement underneath the hand still clutching at his stomach. His eyes widened in horror, muscles locking into place. It felt almost like a snake slithering just beneath the skin. He waited a beat, wanting to be sure that he wasn’t imagining things. A bump slithered against his palm, making Jax cry out, jumping backwards as if to separate himself from the thing that was roving around inside.
The pain sharpened in his stomach and he stumbled out of the shower, barely making it to the toilet before expelling the remaining contents of his stomach. When he was finished, he leaned his forehead against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat, not caring at this point what he was touching. Seeing black liquid once again confirmed it for him that he had indeed contracted the virus. When he felt his stomach had settled enough, he gripped the bathroom counter above him and pulled himself to standing. He flushed the toilet and then walked over and turned off the shower. Jax grabbed the bath towel hanging on the hook nearby and toweled himself off. He dropped it to the floor, weary from the illness and fear. Jax trudged back to his bed, his arms wrapped around his middle, the pressure keeping the pain at bay. He crawled under the covers, his whole body shaking from fever chills. At the other end of the house, Jax could hear Marley coming in through his doggy door. He heard the taps of the dog’s nails as he made his way down the hall. Before Marley reached the bedroom, Jax had fallen into a deep sleep.
Marley walked up to the side of the bed and sniffed his owner, his hackles rising up at the sickly stench that was wafting off of Jax’s skin. The dog knew that odor. It was the same smell as Jax’s parents. He backed up, a soft growl rumbling in his throat, punctuated by a confusing whine. He knew that smell was bad, but this was also his human. He wanted to comfort him, but he could sense the danger lurking just below the surface. Marley jumped in fright when Jax groaned in his sleep, the sound like a gunshot in the stillness of the house. The poor dog turned and raced down the hall, shooting through the doggy door and out into the fenced in yard. There was a small gap under the stairs of the deck that Marley could squeeze himself into and hide. He burrowed into the small space, trembling from fear at what his human was becoming.
****
Jax woke hours later, his sheets soaked in sweat. Every muscle in his body ached intensely, his bones stiffening from the sickness that was eating its way through him. He wanted to sit up, wanted to walk to the bathroom sink and get some water, but his limbs seemed to be locked in place. He was thirsty. So thirsty. He lay in the soggy sheets for several minutes, breathing as deeply as he could and willing his limbs to loosen up. After some time, he was able to maneuver into a sitting position. When he stood, he was far too weak, and his legs gave out. He crashed to the floor in a heap, crying out from the pain. His fever was so high that it was a wonder he could form coherent thoughts in his head. He didn’t even remember Marley being there. Jax could barely remember his own name. He just knew he was thirsty, and he needed some cool liquid to fill him up.
With the changes his body was going through due to the virus, his sense of smell had strengthened considerably. His nose found the faint, metallic scent of the water. Jax began to crawl towards the source, not noticing the graying pieces of flesh that slid off of his body as he moved. By the time he felt the cool tile of the bathroom floor underneath his hands and feet, he had already forgotten his name. As the virus hit each person, it started to progress faster and faster towards the end of the victims humanity before turning into the flesh eating creature. All Jax knew was finding the source of the liquid he knew his body needed, his primal instincts pushing him on, all thought and reason burning away with the fever.
Jax gripped the counter above him and pulled himself to standing, leaning heavily against the bathroom vanity. A small part of him was still alive somewhere inside, and he knew he needed to turn the handle so the water would come out. He watched the clear liquid flow into the marble basin, and he leaned over and began lapping up the water like a dog. For several minutes, Jax stood there, filling his cavernous belly before finally feeling satiated. He looked up in the mirror then, his eyes widening at the creature staring back at him. His reflection was of a hairless monstrosity, eyes the color milk. His skin was a pale blue, and he watched it darken as he stood there. Small, pus filled wounds scattered across his flesh started to heal right before his eyes. A trickle of the black ooze had dripped down from the corner of his mouth while he slept, and he had smeared it across his cheek. He looked down at his hands, his nails graying, as they lengthened into sharp points. The small part in his mind that was still human, still Jax, screamed at the reflection to end this now before it was too late. The other part, the corpse-like creature that was quickly taking over, couldn’t comprehend what the human side was saying. All it could think about was its hunger.
Without knowing why, the humanoid creature turned and walked stiffly to the shower, stepping onto the cold tile flooring, not knowing what he was doing. His pale gaze searched the shelves before finding something that seemed to make the faded human part of him react with an urgent need. The creature picked up the shiny object, holding it by the longer end and staring at the sharp blade on the opposite side. He vaguely recalled having seen this before, a shard of a memory that he couldn’t quite grasp. With its fading presence, the small shard of Jax told the dominating, monstrous part what to do. The creature put the sharp side of the object against his wrist, the blue skin not quite hardened to armor yet, and felt the bite of the blade as he sliced his flesh open. A mixture of dark crimson liquid and pitch black ooze streamed out of the wound. The creature swayed as it watched the last of the human blood leak away until there was nothing left but the soupy, dark fluid that flowed through the veins of these creatures.
He tumbled to the floor, his already frail body from the sickness getting weaker with the loss of his lifeblood. The human part, the young adult with dreams of having his books made into movies or a tv series, who loved his dog, cared deeply for his parents, and never wanted to move too far away from his hometown, winked out of existence inside the mind of the creature. A grotesque parody of a human smile stretched across the creature’s face, as it felt the blade sink into the flesh of its other wrist.
****
The house phone inside the small cabin rang repeatedly before the answering machine picked up. An outgoing message with the deep voice of a young man echoed through the house, promising a return call as soon as possible and for the caller to leave a message at the beep.
“Hey, Mr. Jaxson.” A masculine voice came through the speaker. “It’s Brant. I waited for you at the airport. What the hell happened to you? The publisher was a little peeved that you missed the meeting but they are still very interested in hearing about your new take on a zombie novel. The hard, blue skin of your zombies is reminiscent of the sparkly skin of the vampires in that one series and they are loving the idea! Please call me as soon as you get this so we can iron out the details to get you out here. Later, Jax.” The call ended, and a thick silence filled the house once more. An hour or so later, the phone rang again, the shrill sound loud in the dead silence of the cabin. After the man was finished asking for the callers to leave a message, the voice of an old woman filled the space.
“Hey son. Your dad and I were wondering when you would be back. We haven’t heard from you. Marley is over here pacing and I know it’s because he misses you. We can bring him to your house if you are definitely coming back from New York today. Just let us know. Love you, Jax.” The woman sat silently on the phone for a moment before hanging up. The sun moved through the sky as silence blanketed the house once more. In the main bedroom, a trail of discarded clothes leads to the en suite. A man’s arm hangs over the bathtub, his body laying in a pool of red. His thick, dark brown hair was plastered against his pale skin. The light had left his eyes, and the corpse lay in the tub, waiting to be found.
