Zombie Bite (part 2)

Finally I spoke. "I can't stay here," I begged, surprising the other man. "The horde is close. I can hear it. Take me with you."

The man stared at me in shock before shaking his head. "No, I can't. There will be too many questions and I don't have all the answers. I need you to stay. Don't worry, you're safe here," was all he said before once again grabbing his things and leaving me behind, alone in the room.

But I knew I wasn't safe here. I wouldn't be safe anywhere it seemed. No longer a part of the horde, I would simply be prey to them. Other humans wouldn't understand what I was, and fear and ignorance wasn't a good way to approach them.

Alone and unchained, but unsure where to I could escape, I stared out the window. Outside fires burned where I assumed the other human encampments might be. Zombies roamed the streets, their teeth chattering and ever alert to sounds of their prey. Perhaps they could forgive and welcome me back if I just showed I was one of them, that I never meant to leave the horde, that I was taken from them. Yes, as the horde we were strong, invincible, unafraid. The horde feared nothing and no one, and never had anyone been turned aside from their ranks. Yes, the horde was where I belonged and surely would welcome me back into them.

The man again returned the next day with supplies. Before he could speak, I asked, "Have you tried biting another zombie yet? Did they revert to their human selves as well?"

The man closed his eyes, a shiver climbing up his spine as he took a breath. "Just one other right after I bit you. It was older, I guess, and was already injured. He changed back but succumbed to the bullet holes puncturing his chest. He bled out in front of me and there was nothing I could do." The man's eyes met mine and I could see that there was something worse coming. "Before he died, he told me, begged me to let him die. Said he remembered it all, being a zombie. The screams of his children as he set into them, the taste of their flesh. 'The Hunger' he repeated as he struggled to stop me from applying pressure to his wounds. He was terrified. I don't think I can do that to anyone else."

His body convulsed in horror and he doubled-over, vomiting on the hardwood. I moved in closer to see tears and puke splatter on the floor. I waited. There was still one more question I needed answered. After a while, he straightened, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. His eyes widened and his body recoiled in shock when he realized how close I'd gotten. "Do you remember being a zombie as well? Everything you did? I'm so sorry bringing you back to relive it all."

I ignored his questions and his sympathy. "Have you told anyone else about what you could do? About what they might be able to do?" I asked, my hands reaching out to him desperately.

The man reeled back, slapping my questing hands away. "Do you remember being a zombie?" He asked again, though with not the same amount of conviction he possessed the last time.

"Did you tell anyone?" I asked, louder this time as my hands sought again to grab him.

His eyes widened and I could see an understanding come across his face. "You remember," he said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Did you tell anyone?" My voice filling the room as my hands finally latched onto his shirt.

"No, I couldn't. I wouldn't let anyone do what I did to another person. I'm so sorry."

My hands shook him hard, then slammed him against a wall. "Sorry for taking me from the safety of the horde, kidnapping me into this terrifying world where I'm just meat?"

Confused, he said, "No, for bringing you back along with all the the things you've done." Another moment of clarity washed over his face as I bore down upon him, my body pinning his to the ground. My teeth parted flesh as I bit into his throat. I tasted metal as blood filled my mouth. Though The Hunger no longer drove my actions, I still attacked with the same ferocity I once possessed. I tore away, ripping apart a piece of the man in the process. My hands held him as my teeth ground his body down, and I let it slide down my throat. For his part, the other man struggled, he pleaded, just as prey should. He tried to escape but I was determined and he was losing blood.

I leaned back against the wall and watched and waited, eyes focused intensely on the body before me. If a bite from a human could take me from the horde, could my bite still bring someone into the horde? The light made its way across the room until darkness once again filled the room. The corpse continued to simply lie still, inert. I felt something inside me break and I bolted upright. My fists pounded themselves into the walls and countertops. I took objects into my hands only to smash them on the ground. Taken from the horde, I could no longer bring anyone into its glory.

Then I heard it. The familiar chattering of teeth and shuffling of unsteady feet. My brethren. Down several flights of stairs I flew until I emerged back on the street. Before me stood a small group of zombies, members of the horde eternal. I let out a shout, clapped my hands, stomped my feet, offering myself to their Hunger. Though I could no longer feel it, I knew The Hunger had taken notice, the zombies shuffling to me. I felt their hands take hold. Then came the teeth, eruptions of pain where they tore into me. Something inside me screamed to run, flee from the pain but I dismissed it. This was the initiation into the horde, the same as I'd endured before to join their safety, and I'd suffer it again and again. My legs went weak and I collapsed on to the pavement, bodies piling on top of me. But soon I'd rise strong once more. My vision darkened and soon I'd awaken to pain being nothing more than a memory. We were the horde, and we were invincible.

 

From a Reddit Writing Prompt about being chased by a zombie and, in a last-ditch effort, decide to bite the zombie first. This is actually a prompt that comes up what seems like once a month, and I actually started it a couple months ago when I saw roughly the same prompt pop-up. The original version though was from the POV of the guy who bites the zombie. It was going well and I was almost done but when I got to the end I couldn't figure out how to show increasing paranoia from the outside. I decided it would look better from the POV of the zombie turned human so I decided not to finish the story and would do a re-write. Then I did nothing with it because well other things. Then the prompt appeared again so I decided that was a good excuse to go back and finish the re-write. Of course without a background in psychology and my general obliviousness to my surroundings and others, I'm really not sure if I captured the main character's fear and growing paranoia properly, but that's going to require either going back to school or actually paying attention to people and I'm not interested in either at the moment. I'm also told that you can't observe your own paranoia since crazy people don't think they're crazy so I guess that method of research isn't going to work too well. Also if you're curious, yeah, I'm impressed I went three weeks in a row with a post. Sure last week's had been written for  weeks prior and I had the bare bones of this story sitting around for months but still I'm on my way to making this a weekly thing (just another thing for you to scroll past) as I always intend to do. And then once I talk about it I'll always find an excuse to break my writing habit. I can already feel a cold coming on. Luckily next week's is almost done as well so that should cover that. Also, if you're thinking that means I'm going to put more effort into the following post with all the extra time, you really should be reading something else.