Everyone knows a single bite from a zombie means infection and death. Describe the harrowing moment when a biter latches its teeth on you in the middle of a fight.

The teeth break the flesh and reach the hypodermis. I know this because it’s my job to know this. The necrotic gums of the biter contain millions of spores. Within thirty seconds they reach my heart. By this point I am dead, my mind only has to catch up to the fact.

The biter removes his jaws, taking a piece of muscle along with it.

The fungus reaches the blood-brain barrier soon after, turning my carotid artery green as the blood turns to syrup in its wake. Tunnel vision sets in, despite the adrenalin pumped into my system and the pain radiating from my arm.

Smelling the infection, I assume, my research never got that far, the biter moves on to fresher prey.

As the fungus collects at the base of my brain, it sub-divides, sending millions of smaller particles into the grey mush I spent years training in epidemiology. Eighty seven seconds since been bitten I lose coherent thought.

The doctors are watching me. I know this because I told them to. My coworkers. Friends. And now I am to be the last guinea pig.

The retroviral has worked. Up until now. On monkeys and tissue. But reality is different and as my eyesight fails and sense leaves me, I feel only one thing.

A hunger.


Prompt originally posted by The_Valentist on reddit and received 3 upvotes.

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