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Diary of Infection: A cure for death

Page 2

by Bridget Squires

z-bee brain, is greasy and colored in shades of brown. The brain monitor beeps as the z-bee attached groans loudly once more as if the monitor is trying to give words to its victim. The other z-bees leg bones have been extracted and sit on pan next to the steel bed. The bones are tinged black and appear greasy as well. The femur is cut in half, revealing a green pus filled core.

  The legs are just flaps of useless flesh, stringy muscles looking like spaghetti and the cartilage of the knees are soaking in water on another table. The z-bee hearts are beating right in front of me since the chest cavity has been pried open, and I can't help to watch mesmerized as the various organs shift and function while exposed openly to the elements. All the organs are covered in green pus. The greasy black color similar to the brain and bones now speckles the organs like paint spatters.

  My body has not moved an inch. Almost like the shock is too much. Why keep these z-bees alive? If they have aware minds like me, I can only imagine the pain their minds are suffering. Another groan snaps me back to reality as I study the torture these 2 have undergone. There are needles everywhere, even one clearly labeled BLEACH INJECTION. Saws and hatchets lie nearby as well as various charts. There are several piles suggesting these two may not be the first victims of this makeshift mad scientist.

  The z-bees are strapped to the table at their shoulders, forearms, pelvic bone and the one with legs has straps just below the knees. The skin and tissue beneath the straps has long ago worn away with their constant struggling to free themselves. It is sickening to me to understand why someone would do such a thing. These monsters deserve a true death, not to be kept around for experiments. They are undead lab rats and it just isn't right. Torture, no matter the subject is still torture.

  My body for once seems to understand and agree with my thoughts and starts pounding on the tables. The table bends eventually and gives way, releasing its captives. The one with legs has its intestines spill to the floor, slapping the linoleum loudly and crumples to the ground with the organs. Looks like being tied has stiffened his legs a bit. After getting his bearings he rises. He shuffles forward and heads towards the door, dragging the feet upon feet of intestines behind him, leaving behind something that resembles a slug trail. I guess an appropriate name for him would be Organ Donor. A little joke to lighten the darkness I have faced.

  The other z-bee lies helpless on the floor. My body pushes him, trying to encourage movement but the will has long since faded away. He just lies there groaning miserably. He flops helplessly like some fish whose bowl the cat has toppled over. The nudging does no good. Finally as if my body has decided mercy is best, it starts pounding the pathetic z-bee. My right hand grips his throat, in my mind I can feel the bones crack and separate as the force increases. My other hand batters his head, crushing the fragile skull and turning the brown stained brain to ground beef. Eventually the z-bees heart completely seizes and he is free.

  Organ Donor watched silently, as if understanding this horrible act of mercy. Then when finished our bodies went out the door together, a team bent on revenge. It seems as if Organ Donor knows the way, he quickly navigates the back offices and reaches the rear of the store where the layaway section sign is. The arrow directs us towards a pair of swinging doors with the words "EMPLOYEES: YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE STORE, BE SURE TO PUT ON A SMILE AND GREET CUSTOMERS POLITELY" in big orange letters.

  Through the door were rows and rows of items on shelves. Compared to the makeshift lab this looked simply like a wal mart from the days before the z bomb. Nothing special. The trip has caused Organ Donor to become almost hollow now, the contents of his abdominal cavity empty except for his stomach which is still hanging on. We navigate towards the gunshot sounds but Organ Donor stops mid step and sniffs the air. I can smell it too, blood but different somehow.

  Our bodies quickly follow the scent until heartbeats can be heard behind a door. My body shivers in anticipation, as the smell almost causes a drunk like euphoria. My mind counts the heartbeats in horror; one is clearly quicker and smaller than the other. This must mean it happened; the baby has been born and lies behind the door. For all the sins I committed before the z-bomb I always assumed they would be forgiven but this is beyond forgiveness. If I harm this baby, this new chapter of human life, I will damned. I doubt there will be mercy for a down and out such as myself if there is a heaven. Lord knows I'm already in hell.

  Organ Donor flails against the door and it smashes open in pieces. After this things get hectic, the smell of blood is overwhelming and the screaming deafening. The placenta lies at the woman's feet and the baby is nearby wrapped in sheets. The placenta causes a pavlavian response in my body. My teeth clench and my mouth waters at the thought of savoring each and every bite. The bloody after birth beckons me and almost glistens in the fluorescent lighting.

  A gunshot tears through Organ Donor's abdomen, bursting his stomach and shattering his spine into slivers which snaps my body back into reality. Organ Donor's stomach acid splashes to the floor like a facet being turned on full blast. Suddenly I am reminded a dream I had before I turned into a z-bee. In the dream I gutted a small girl and heard a similar sound when her stomach burst. The memory seems like a lifetime ago.

  Before the mother can reload the shotgun I am on top of her tearing into her soft supple throat. She fights and kicks for a moment but my teeth silence her by crushing her larynx and puncturing a vein in her neck causing massive blood to pour out. My body is shaking with hunger as it licks the blood up greedily and tears the flesh off in strips with its teeth. Just another warm meal to my body, a entree to enjoy.

  In my mind it’s a different story. I can't believe I killed her, my body is a twisted monster and my mind has to witness the crimes. I try and close my eyes, to picture myself at home playing my x-box and eating my favorite chips but my eyes remain fixated on the woman’s corpse. I devoured a good deal of her flesh when the baby cries jolt my attention away from my meal. If I had the ability to cry, the thought of ending the child’s life would cause tears to flow freely.

  My body rises and heads towards the infant. It is clearly a little boy, pink skin and so fresh to this world. There is no justice in a world of monsters and my mind watches my hands, battered and ruined, reach for him. Then I am on the ground and there is a man on top of me punching wildly. The barrage of abuse does little to slow down my reflexes as my body rolls over on top of the man and pins him. Before I can bite him a crack to the side of my head actually makes me see stars so to speak. My body is momentarily distracted while another crack from a baseball bat hits me right between the eyes. The last thing I see is the baby, safely nestled in Samuel, the mad scientist and one who had previously tried to end my life before he was stopped by the women I just murdered, arms.

  When I awake I actually feel refreshed in a sense. Z-bees might not sleep, but apparently we get knocked unconscious. My mind is throbbing as hours of heinous pain rushes all at once to my head. I can't feel my legs, and it doesn't take long to realize I am hanging by my wrists. As I begin to scan my surroundings, I notice I am once again in the makeshift lab. The man, Samuel, stands before me glaring in hatred in my direction.

  "I try to cure you, try to find a way to make you human once more and you kill my darling girl. Your affliction is a curse from God, rained down upon an undeserving civilization run amuck. You’re alive for no purpose other than scientific research since you all must be stopped. Now you will become the last subject before this whole testing proves unworthy of any more attention. You will be my final experiment before I tell the others there is no hope left. Five people and a baby won't last long if your comrades outside keep the abuse of the barricade up. One last injection, the perfected antidote before I give up" he explains as he shoves the needle into my neck.

  As he presses the plunger down, I can feel the fluid flow into my veins. The fluid burns terribly as it courses through my body. My mind screams and writhes in pain as the fluid seems to set my body afire metaphorically speaking of course. After
many agonizing moments, the pain starts to lessen, which is a relief. I notice Samuel has cut the ties hanging my wrists and I am somewhat free to move around. Looking down I see the tie at my waist attaching my body to the far wall.

  I reached up and rubbed the tears from my eyes and rub my face absent mindingly. It takes a moment but shockingly I am controlling my hands I realize. It’s a miracle. Samuel looks at me, a smile as wide as can be. Over joyed, I stand up from the floor, tipsy at first and unbalanced as can be. Soon I am standing without effort and while my body, the parts I can see anyways, still looks undead, I am controlling it. Samuel slowly approaches me, holding out a pan with flesh on it towards me. I flinch back, hands in front of me refusing his meal offer.

  "Can you speak corpse?" Samuel asks leaning forward. Croaks escape my throat at first, then I manage a complete sentence "yes, my name is Stuart" I say. The excitement builds quickly at the prospect of being one of the living sets in. I'm alive again; in rough shape but alive none the less. I scan my body rubbing and exploring the vast amounts of injuries I have incurred throughout my z-bee

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