(Warning: Cringey Content, Things Zombies Do- just in case you forgot this was a zombie story be warned, Zombie Prejudice)

(Previously:“Oh.” Is all I can manage before I’m shoved into the cell and the door is locked behind me. There’s a bed and a toilet. The bed has neither blankets nor pillows. ‘Great.’ I watch the Driver and Scientist leave before I can ask the head scientist for at least a blanket.)

I go over to the bed and ignoring the bloodstains, flop down onto it. I throw an arm over my head and look up at the ceiling, ‘I wonder where they’re keeping Dilan?’ I look at my hand, I still look healthy and human, but that doesn't explain why they threw me in a cage. I turn my head as I hear the doctor muttering under his breath. The zombie makes a soft noise so I sit up and go to the door. The doctor is finishing up I guess and then seeing me watching he pauses, packing up his scalpel. Walking over to the door he looks at me. I can’t tell if the scalpel he’s absentmindedly twirling in his hand is meant to be a threat or maybe self defense.

“Did you…” The doctor starts, gesturing to the zombie and then looking back at me, “I’d like a blood sample. I’m going to take a blood sample,” He corrects himself.

“With that?” I ask, backing up a little bit while I point to the scalpel, “Or hygienically?” I smile awkwardly.

“I…didn’t know you cared about hygiene,” The doctor says with alarmingly no sarcasm, “Considering what the driver told me…about you.” He side-eyes me, before he turns and walks like two steps then says, “Yes, just like in a normal doctor's office.” As though he suddenly remembered to say it out loud. ‘Why’s he acting so awkward now? Are his only personality traits hostile or awkward?’ I stifle a laugh at the thought, ‘That’s actually quite believable, he probably has no normal social interactions.’ I was hoping that he’d let me out of the cage but he just drags everything he needs over. I watch him go wash his hands, change gloves and then prepare my arm, cleaning the spot where the needle would go. The band around my arm is uncomfortable but after a second of the doctor pressing my vein and waiting, it bulges out enough for the doctor to stab into it.

I’ve never had problems with blood being taken before but this was the first time while standing up and my arm being tied down to something so I couldn’t change my mind, I guess. All I know is that the head scientist told me to be good and so I was just letting this all happen but I won’t lie my heartrate picked up a bit.

The doctor switches out the full container of blood with an empty one and I ask, “How much do you need?”

“As much as you can spare,” he says without looking up.

“How many is that?” I ask nervously as the second one fills up.

“Mmmm three or four.” He says sizing me up. “I can always come back and get more.” He grins creepily. I swallow and lean against the bar, watching as he switches it out again. Something moves sluggishly in my peripheral vision and I realize the zombie is starting to come to. ‘Should I say something? He wouldn't attack as soon as he “wakes up” right? I don’t know if he’d bite me since I was bleeding, he shouldn't. I was bleeding around him once before, but I might have been distracting him with…’ The doctor starts muttering something about the tests he was gonna run on my blood so I look back at him distracted.

The zombie’s eyes are right there behind the doctor the next moment and I gasp. A flick of motion where the scary, gray, dark eyes meet mine. Then his mouth opens and I let out a very justified scream as he tears the doctor's throat out from the side. The needle is torn from my skin and I scream again mostly from the moment but the pain just added to it. The zombie has the screeching doctor pinned and I cover my mouth, shaking a little as the guards and some scientists run in, reacting to the screaming.

The zombie is pulled growling and covered in blood off the doctor who is dead, definitely dead.

“Take him to the testing room,” One of the scientists says to a guard then looks at me curiously, “Somebody finish whatever the doctor started and test his blood, give the zombie back his bitch so he’ll calm down.” I don’t even get to react to being called a bitch because I’m in shock and covered with blood that splattered me from the doctor’s neck. It smells weird. I saw someone get their throat torn out before but that was from a distance not point blank. The body of the doctor was taken to the “testing room” whatever that means and the zombie is corralled by the guards. One of the scientists unties my arm, cleans the needle puncture mark and puts a cotton ball and bandaid over it. Then the blood vials are taken away as the door is unlocked and opened.

The zombie rushes past the guards breaking through with what is probably extremely impressive strength, making the scientists jump back but the next second I get barreled into and sniffed and touched all over. The zombie's eyes are wide with panic. He's even making a noise that sounds like he’s trying not to cry. I hug him deeply, feeling my heart swirling with emotions that were probably weird considering I should be scared not feeling pity and relief and…’

I lose my balance because of the zombies' eagerness and fall roughly onto my butt, “Gentle.” I whisper as he continues. “Gentle,” I soothe and hug him tighter, “I’m okay.” He doesn’t calm down, practically vibrating with anxiety he looks around and bears his teeth at the guards and scientists. “They aren’t hurting me.” I whisper into his ear. “I’m tired, will you hold me?” I ask even quieter, chin dropping onto his shoulder. He holds me back protectively, growling a warning as one of the scientists makes an impressed noise.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen him that close to someone without trying to kill them.” I try to tune them out by burying my face deeper into the zombie’s shoulder. I feel my shoulders starting to shake and eyes burning. I refuse to cry in front of this many people. The zombie goes still sensing it, before the humans notice he scoops me up and carries me to the bed. Curling around me he shields me from view completely, holding my hands and gazing at my face which is now scrunching up unattractively. He opens his mouth and then quickly wiping some of the blood off of it pulls me into his chest.

I feel his lips brush my hair. I squeeze his hands taking deep breaths, knowing they’d hear if I made a noise. Slowly the urge fades, my eyes stop burning, and I can swallow without the choked up feeling. Taking another deep breath I uncurl a little to look at the zombie, his eyes are half closed and he makes a contented noise as he strokes my back comfortingly. I’m glad he’s not looking at me with pity. I relax a bit more and then pull him closer. Rewarding him for helping me. He rubs his face against mine and then looks up and bears his teeth at the scientists who were all gathered watching. I draw circles on his healed scars and he looks back quickly then with the happiest noise kisses my fingers. I open my mouth a little shocked and then press my palm against my cheek to cool it down.

“Do you think they've mated?” A scientist asks loudly enough to ruin the mood.

“No, and it’s unlikely we will any time soon with how this cage is open for everyone to look into.” I say lifting my arm. Sitting up I look at the scientists and the remaining two guards. “I’m not shy by any means but this is a little much.” I say. The scientist looks a little shocked that I spoke to him.

“We have a few questions.” A more mature scientist asks. “Do you have any idea as to why specimen zero treats you this way and not like food?” I look down at the zombie who moves to wrap his arms around my waist, head in my lap.

“I mean I have an idea.” I say playing with his hair, ‘He really needs a shower, I look at the blood on my hands, I need a shower, too.’ “It’s because he likes me.” I laugh and the scientists all look very unamused. “He liked me before he became a zombie,” I clarify. That piqued their interest.

“When did specimen zero come into our possession?” The most mature who was also the tallest, takes charge of this situation. “Bring me his file.” They order a shorter scientist who runs off to obey the tall one they look back at me and I have that inkling of danger again but it fades almost immediately. “Tell me everything you know about patient zero before he was injected with the serum.”

“There’s not much, he was a customer at my job and absolutely, unhealthily obsessed with me,” I can tell that the zombie doesn’t care at all about my opinion, just happy to have me now.’ No shame.’ I chuckle.

“Can you give us some details?” Tall scientist asks, pulling out something to write on.

“Um well, he’d always come in after dark.”

“Do you know what the date was?”

“I honestly couldn’t remember something like that but…there weren’t any decorations that would suggest it was near a holiday.”

“Do you remember what the weather was like that day?”

“I remember it was warm enough to smoke outside, all night.”

“You smoke?”

“No but…” I point downwards, “he used to.”

“You said he’d smoke outside all night?”

“Until my shift was over.” I finish.

“Were you friends?” The scientist asks, narrowing their blue eyes a little.

“No, we were strangers.” I remember vividly the first time I recognized him as a repeat customer, he’d always hide his eyes and buy something and leave before but then one day... He was just staring up at me, the way his head was still slightly tilted down like he was cowering or something made it less creepy and just pitiful, but his gray eyes were shocking. I think I mentioned them. “I complimented his eyes and he started coming in more and more, he got so obsessed that he even followed me home a few times.”

“Sounds like a stalker.”

“He was, I guess.” I say.

“You didn’t report it?”

“I could throw him with one arm at the time,” I laugh. “He’d flinch if someone breathed too loud and you could see that he was-” I stop myself and then groan, “Oh god, I think I know why he jumped to being an experiment.” ‘The promise of strength or power.’ The short scientist comes back with a small file.

After a minute of flipping through it the scientist confirms my suspicions, “Domestic abuse brought to us after their guardian sold them to one of our outliers.” They tap the file against their hand, “More than likely he became obsessed with you after you were kind to him, he didn’t become an experiment willingly though, but it does say he was allowed to live and roam freely for a while.” They flip through some more information, “He was taken in permanently after the visual changes made him too suspicious.” The scientist looks down for a while and then smirks, “Says here that he killed his guardian.” The scientist looks up with electric blue eyes tapping the file against their shoulder, “Good for him.”

Then to me they ask, “So if he used to stalk you and you were never romantically involved before, why now?” “I dunno, guess I like them strong enough to throw me.” I lie. The scientist raises an eyebrow. “Or because he saved my life a few times,” I say a little more honestly.  The blonde scientist runs a hand back through their tied up hair, probably something they did whilst thinking. I focus on the long ponytail which is almost platinum blonde but in certain lighting still has a faint golden or yellow shimmer to it. The scientist finally sighs and then says, “For now it seems a little too convenient but I’ll accept that he was your stalker before he became a zombie. We’ll be running some tests obviously, is there anything I can bribe you with to make you comply freely?” He smirks when I perk up almost before he finishes the sentence.

“Can we have more humane living conditions? And we both need a shower.” There’s something evil about his laugh when he accepts. I find out later why, when some workers spray us down with cold, pressurized water. 

I sputter facing the wall so water doesn’t go up my nose, my body is tensed up from the cold. “You missed a spot.” The tall scientist tells the worker and I exclaim when I get another cold blast to the back. The zombie growls fighting the pressure, trying to get over to me to protect me. But the worker keeps turning up the pressure until the zombie loses his footing. I hurry over to him without thinking and get part of the blast to the arm. Cursing I pull my arm back, blood spots start bubbling up on my skin.

“Turn those off!” Somebody barks and I turn my head shivering, to see the Head Scientist standing quietly, calmly beside the guard who just yelled. I feel relief until I remember the doctor that was killed by the zombie. Am I going to be punished, but then why would he order the hoses to be turned off? I crouch reaching for the zombie who’s curled into a ball. His skin is thankfully much tougher than mine and he’s not hurt. He coughs up some water and then lets out a bubbly growl, I hug him telling him urgently to shhh. Something about my mannerisms gets through to him and he shuts up, looking where I’m now looking.

The Head Scientist approaches the cage. “You’re still alive despite being in there together for an hour, you must dismiss my surprise I didn’t want you to get eaten, it’s just impressive.” The zombie makes a noise when he sees my shredded arm and starts licking it. In any other case I might have jerked away, grossed out, but I’m a little busy making sure I’m not gonna get blasted in the face suddenly.

“Sorry about the doctor.” I say.

The Head Scientist waves his hand dismissively, “he turned his back on a previously berserk zombie, what happened would have been prevented if he paid more attention.” ‘So, why are you here?’ I think. “I’ve since been filled in on your seeming immunity to the gas and after running the blood tests we found out that…” I lean forward. “You are infected.” The head scientist finishes.