Prologue:
A monochrome photo of us sits on the dresser in a frame like a precious distant memory. Almost feels estranged from the current man that stands beside him in that graduation picture. Knowing, that the smiling, enigmatic man exists no longer. Distraught, I turn over the frame gently, hiding the image from immediate sight.
“What have I done to us?” I casually reflect out loud in the empty bedroom, “I’ve become a monster that even he won’t ever forgive. That I cannot blame if he didn’t. My hate was not directed at him. However, he will soon be involved in the middle of a mess of my own manifestation. I only wanted to show them what happens when you mess with someone’s livelihood. The consequences of deliberately downplaying a brilliant mind like mine. My research and Zane was all I had. But I have shown they couldn’t have both at the same time. They won’t. And they won’t have him either. He is a great mind, second to mine of course. They made their last mistake.”
I let out a menacing bellow of maniacal laughter reflecting introspectively on my thoughts.
“He belongs to me. Even his research. Not to worry. He isn’t stupid. He will always find his way back to me. Always. He knows me better than anyone. I can handle his anger, his rage, his tears. And I shall be there, like a father comforting his son, wiping away his confusion. Ready to make me better. But until his arrival, I shall watch my self-destruction with a front row seat to the world’s demise. And mine eventually.”
Suddenly a loud thud is heard from my basement. The prisoners. I descended down the stairs, admiring my victims from their glass cage like a visitor at a human zoo. They’re incubation period diminishing upon the grueling hours as I adjust my bath robe comfortably.
“Hello my pets,” I gesture towards the three scientists responsible for my invalid source of termination, who now rely completely at my mercy.
My gaze passes over to the three additional scientists, sitting in restraints outside the glass observation room, awaiting their turn in a game of my orchestrated design.
“Feeding time will be soon,” My voice dripping with calculated malice, with a hint of venomous honey followed by a maniacal chuckle.
“You wanted to prevent an epidemic by firing me now did you? How quaint. I almost lost my livelihood because of your bumbling mistake you idiotic lot! Such precious human lives you once lived,” I scoff in a mocking tone, "Yet so undeserving."
I tower over the shivering lab coats with empowering satisfaction. The power I have now controlling the lives of the very morons who ruined my life. I now get to ruin theirs. In approximately less than 6 hours the three restrained scientists will soon become zombie food. I watch as the results of my experiment get to unfold as the lab coats within the glass containers tremble as one of them undergoes convulsions and proceeds to seize violently.
“Do you feel that Connor? Feels like a massage chair vibration inside your body doesn’t it? No? What’s that? I can’t hear you when you scream as though you are being electrocuted by voltages high enough to fry your insides out. Do try and speak up,” I mock with sheer satisfaction as the incubation period dwindles within my former colleague, “EMBRACE YOUR METAMORPHOSIS IN ALL ITS ETERNAL GLORY! You are becoming quite the belle of the ball.”
Suddenly the victim stops seizing and begins panicking. Their erratic state scares the other two victims. The first victim’s panic becoming infectious as the others join the screaming and running. I clap enthusiastically at their frazzled state.
“This is far more entertaining than chasing a freshly washed stray cat with a blow dryer,” I wheezed as the scared scientists watch the infected one undergo the stages of the post-incubation period with phase one involving seizures, paranoia and hallucinations.
“You MONSTER!!!” A scientist screams.
“And you are the monster who didn’t give me a chance to explain myself. And tell the devil I said hi on your way down to hell for me will you,” I stated flatly.
The next intense phase of paranoia washes over the infected one’s face as they begin screaming experiencing the tactile hallucinations of armies of insects crawling inside their skin. I watch with bemused stoicism, no care or regard for the pain they experience.
“The ants go marching in your skin HURRAH! HURRAH! The creepy crawlies go creeping in HURRAH! HURRAH!” I mock out of manic pleasure at their discomfort.
“They don’t stop because you cry! They only begin to multiply! The ants begin to eat you alive!” I belt out a harsh and cruel song to mock the painful experience of being turned into a zombie.
“Say goodbye to your mind. You won’t need it where you’re going. Relax Connor. Let the miracle happen as you slip further into the sweet abyss.”
I watch with dark satisfaction as the scientist begins to scratch off his own skin. Blood begins to drip from his body as he screams erratically.
“Careful now, your skin isn’t a lottery ticket my friend. I’ve heard of many torture methods all throughout history but nothing compares to psychological torture. Once you play with the brain, the physiological pain follows suit rather magnificently. Like a biological conga line. From a molecular level your nerves are doing the cha cha,” I reach for maracas and shake them, “dancing to the beat of death's eternal drums.”
I watch as the scientist rips out their own flesh, screaming louder at the pain. The other senior scientists begin to watch with anticipated horror. Blood begins to pool faster on the floor as the infected scientist begins foaming at the mouth. Their irises devoid of color slowly. The seizures return as the scientist begins to slowly lose consciousness and eventually go into a brief coma. Just when the scientists thought their nightmare was over, it has only just begun. The blood stopped seeping out of the wound from the scratched off skin.
“The body is eating it’s own blood so it will need new supplies soon. The Zeronia virus is now speeding the metabolic rate of nutrient absorption and shutting down his cognitive abilities. His cognitive function is failing and he is no longer in control of his decisions. Thus making him a zombie by definition. Isn’t he perfect?”
Color drains from the scientists’ faces as the realization begins to dawn on them.
“You horrid monster!” states one of the uninfected scientists.
“And soon that’s what the world will call you once you are all infected through touch. No one will ever want to touch you again. Consider your dreams of finding hot babes, out the window. Some of you never had a chance anyway. But no need to worry, I am doing you all a favor. Science was about finding purpose, so as the new god of this world I am reinstating your purpose and you won’t even need to do a damn thing at all.”
The scientists shriek in terror as the infected scientist loses his mind completely and chases them around the glass room, attempting to eat them. They eventually cower in a corner begging for escape. Suddenly classical music blares through my speaker system to drown out their screams driving in the hopelessness of their despair. My hips sway as I swing around to the contrasting melody to the gruesome scene playing out behind me. Blood splatters across the glass as the infected scientist bites into a screaming scientist.
“Can you scream quieter, you are giving me a headache and disrupting my fengshui. Some people just have no taste for the classics. No class, no couth at all,” I chide as I continue to dance, turning up the sound to drown out the horrible feasting noise in the background.
