T-Virus: Outbreak

Chapter 1(Aiden Muller)

    One warm night, in a small urban part of Louisiana, I was walking around a store, my M16 handgun in its holster by my badge, hidden under my dark red leather jacket, so no one could tell I was an agent, and some guy who looked old, and homeless was trailing behind me. Why is he following me? I thought to myself. I decided to walk outside, and turn the corner, and he kept following. When I turned the corner, however, the man pulled a pipe out of his pocket, and hit me upside the head, knocking me out. After about two hours, I wake up in an old and creepy room. I sighed and started to look around. After a few moments, I stopped at a questionable fireplace and ducked down, looking into it and finding a lever. Scratching my chin, I slowly reached out to the lever, grabbed it and then pulled it.
    You know how you sometimes regret doing stuff? I didn’t regret this, even if I should. After pulling the lever, I heard a click and a groan behind me. Turning around, I looked at what made both the click, and the groan. There they were, a now opened panel in the bottom part of the wall and to my left, in the corner, was a zombie that had some mold on it. The heck? I asked in my mind. The zombie ran at me and attempted to attack, but I ducked under it, rolled to the side and ran to the panel. Once to the panel, I dove into it, dodging the zombie again, finding myself in a dark room. To my left, I found a fuse to the power supply on a table and to my right, there was an abyss-like hole in the ground, but I simply picked the fuse up, and glanced out of the room, through the panel and saw that the zombie was gone.

    Smiling, I crawled back out and walked to the fuse box. Opening it, I pulled the fuse out and got ready to connect it to where it was supposed to go. Once it was put in place, I looked at the door, and slowly opened it. Stepping through, I found myself in a dark hallway and was barely able to see anything. Glancing around, I walked forwards and stopped, hearing footsteps behind me. Turning around, I saw no one, then all of a sudden, an old, country man, wearing a yellow track shirt and some khakI pants popped up in front of me, and punched me, saying “welcome to the family, son,” and knocking me out again.

    Waking up, I saw four people in front of me and I was taped to a chair, at a table. “Where am I?” I asked and the person on my farthest right, a woman around 30, said “eat it, it’s good,” not answering my question, then suddenly the person on the middle left threw his plate at me, saying “he wouldn’t know good, even if it hit him in the face.” After the plate left their hand, the guy right beside the woman on the right side stabbed the person who threw their plate at me, in the right hand and ended up cutting it off. Laughing, the now handless person looked at me. The old man stood up, and walked over, then attempted to feed me a gross, grey looking shrimp and I spit it back out, gagging. The lady stood up quickly and yelled “He’s not eating it, Jake!” and the old man, Jake, supposedly, looked at her, and yelled back.

    They yelled for a bit, then the woman, Misty, as I heard from the yelling, left the room, along with the man with one arm. Jake stayed and picked up a knife, then scowled at me. I’m dead, aren’t I? I asked myself in my mind as Jake struck at me with the knife and missed on purpose, cutting the rope that was binding me to the chair. “Hurry up and get out of here, son,” Jake said and you could hear some struggle in his voice, as if the real him is being controlled. Instantly, I pushed him back, stood up and ran for the room. I was too slow; Jake caught me as soon as I took a step, picked me up by the collar of my shirt and threw me across the room, causing me to crash straight into the wall, which collapsed instantly, a small block from the wall and hit me on the head, knocking me out.

    When I woke up, I was still at the broken wall, except all alone. How do I keep getting knocked out? I asked in my mind, angrily. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and glanced around. “Jake” I muttered, “I’ll return you to normal if I’m able, then I’m getting out of here.” Patting my jacket, I realize I no longer have my gun. “Darn it,” I say glumly. I walk over to the table and grab the knife that Jake left on the edge of the table. “Not much, but it’ll have to do for now,” I examine the blade. “Basic kitchen knife” I scoff, sighing, as I start to leave the dining room. “I have a very bad feeling about this.” Once out of the room, I found myself in a destroyed hallway and heard a knocking-like sound to my left, at a window.