The Write Stuff (The Writing Thread)

[KungFuCutbug]

made a little what-if thing for if Pico had gotten infected in Escape from Zombie Park Island

[Pico sat on the edge of his bed, internally panicking and unable to sleep. The pain from the bites he had sustained earlier in the day was keeping him awake. How the hell hadn't he noticed it before Dr. Frankie said something? A single nip from a Tasmanian tiger apparently stung a lot more than he thought. He clutched the injured part of his arm tightly, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth.] “Fuckin’ hell... Least she could've done was given me the fuckin’ tylenol Isaac made earlier. Somethin’, anythin’ to stop this—”

[Suddenly, a massive headache came onto him.] “—pAIN?!”

[He fell off the bed onto his knees on the wooden floor of his dormitory, clutching his head, tugging at his hair, mumbling incomprehensible profanities. The agony soon spread to his entire body, consuming him. The borders of his vision turned a dark blood red; he clenched his eyes shut, hoping it would go away, but it only spread further. He felt as though he were bound to explode any minute. He couldn't see, he couldn't think, he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe...

And just as he felt he wasn't able to bear it anymore... it all vanished, as quickly as it had come.]

“Huh?” [Pico blinked. He hadn't exactly felt numb or anything. As a matter of fact, he felt as though he hadn't gotten bitten at all. He rolled up his shirt sleeve to check if something happened. Yep, the bite mark was still there on the inside of his elbow, clear as day and still a little bloody.

Then he looked a little closer and noticed the rest of his arm was stark white. He rolled his sleeve back down, pushed himself to his feet, and ran to the nearest mirror. Sure enough, his skin was far, FAR paler than it had been earlier in the day, and his eyes looked sort of bloodshot if he inspected them closely. It didn't take long for him to connect the dots from there: Pico had become a zombie. The 50/50 odds were against him.

...Against him? He had to think about it for a minute. He didn't feel any different than he did before the bite. He wasn't a mindless animal, like he thought he would become if he contracted the infection. He was still just Pico, but slightly different—perhaps slightly stronger, even, if the virus was capable of bringing him back from death.] “Heh. Maybe this fuckin’ virus bullshit isn't so damn bad, after all.”

[He then remembered that his compatriots still thought otherwise, though. Looks like his new mission was to prevent them from finding out what happened to him.

He thought for a bit. Soon, his thoughts led him to Google Translate. She had compared turning into a zombie to “becoming the devil” back when Isaac had first gotten bit. She would probably react the worst to the revelation, and so, he rationalized, she needed to die first so that she wouldn't have to ever find out. Then he reminded himself that Thrivey was the other bite victim earlier that evening, and figured he could throw the others off-track if he could successfully frame him for her death.

His plan now fully in place, he reached into his drawer and grabbed a fountain pen. That'd do nicely for imitating a dragon's bite marks, wouldn't it? With that, he turned to exit his bedroom, looking for Google Translate's. Once he found it, he didn't even give her time to respond—into her neck the pen went, again and again at a specific angle to mimic the teeth of a draconian. Once that was over and she was no longer alive to resist him, he repeated the process on her thigh, and again in her elbow—the same place Pico's own bite was, conspicuously, but he hoped nobody would notice.

He tossed her body onto the floor with a thud, dusting off his hands.] “Hmph. Betcha'll meet plenty of actual fuckin’ devils where you're headed, bitch.” [Well, the deed was done, so he didn't need to loiter for much longer.

He left Google Translate's cabin, locking the door behind him, and returned to his own. Once back there, he licked the fountain pen to wipe off his fingerprints (hey, he was a zombie, he didn't need to worry about getting sick), placed it in the back of the drawer he got it from, and climbed into bed. He found it much easier to sleep that night than he had previously.]