(Warning Cringey Content: Zombi

[Previously:  “You’ll be good as new but we can’t remove the nanomites. They’re stuck permanently, they were for a different strain of zombie so they have the same mindset.”]

“Of course there is a chance you’ll die randomly, since we’ve never mixed the two strains of zombie virus.” He smiles cruelly, “Especially since they seem to be fighting for control over you.”

I glare at him, ‘why is he such an ass? I used to think he was kind of cool.’ 

He has the audacity to cup my cheek, leaning in with an almost knowing evil glint in his eyes, “What, did you think anyone cared whether you lived or died here?” Standing up straight he pulls out his tablet and messes with it. “I’ve got other experiments to check on.” He brushes his hand over his perfect hair, “Welcome to your new home.” He leaves. I grit my teeth wanting to remind him that he’s just as stuck here as I am.

I go back to the mirror and look at my neck again then lay down on the table. I get to stare at the ceiling slowly losing my mind as I listen to my silent heart. I throw my arm over my face and wait until whatever is going to happen, happens.

The sound of the door opening breaks the silence. I sit up and watch silently as I get my vitals checked again. I guess the reason they want the liquid in my veins is to see which infection was winning. I observe the doctors and nurses. Then looking over at the mirror, note that nothing has changed and sigh. ‘Can I get something to drink?’ I start to say before realizing that I can’t speak and then just gesture. I’m ignored so I pick one out who looked like a push over and grab their arm shocking them. I gesture for water again. They tear their arm away from me and continue ignoring me.

I feel my lips curl up a little as I get toothy with irritation. ‘I’m starting to understand why the zombie got so violent. When you can’t speak or demand and can only growl and then people treat you inferior you kind of just want to punch them. I stop complying with them nicely and gesture for writing material. Again they keep ignoring me so I at one point just roll off the table and walk away. A scientist writing something on a chart looks up in surprise when I smile and take his clipboard and pen from him.

I write, ‘I’m thirsty. I need water.’ And show him. He makes an ah face and looks at the others for a second but decides to call for someone else over his radio. I write, ‘Can somebody get my notebook as well? I'm bored and I like to write to pass the time.’ I show him and he takes the pen to check something on the important form I’m writing in the margins of. I peek over his shoulder at what he’s writing. ‘Cognitive,’ he notices me and adds ‘curious.’ He seems nice. I follow him around the room ignoring the doctors.

He starts getting a little embarrassed and overwhelmed as they get upset at him telling him in harsh whispers that they needed, “To finish their tests so they could leave.” I ask for his clipboard again and write, ‘Then you should have paid attention to me. I was complying with your tests. You are the ones that ignored me.’

The scientist reads what I said and lifts his eyebrow at the doctors, “Why did you ignore him?” He asks, “It’s important to note things like thirst or hunger and he seems completely normal despite.” He gestures to his neck and then makes an apologetic noise towards me, “Sorry.” He does that thing with his teeth shrugging a little then clears his throat, “I’ll make sure that your stay here is more comfortable and that the doctors treat you with more respect.” He says that part pointedly.

I for his sake and mine comply with the tests again. It’s mostly like, ‘You were dead, can you jump, breathe, swallow? Do your pupils dilate? No. Do you drool? Surprisingly, yes. How are your reflexes, how are you feeling? This one is funny to me because they would have eventually had to pay attention to me for me to answer that as well as give me something to write with. 

Someone enters with food and water and they freeze when they see the gaping hole in my throat. I guess they are new. I give them an awkward wave and a smile. They approach slowly and offer me the items, I see a little intern badge, ‘oh okay.’ 

I look at the water bottle and try to decide which hole to drink it with, there’s nothing to stop my lungs from getting water in them and I’d probably make a big mess if I poured it into my mouth. I look in the mirror for help and yes shove the water bottle into the hole in my neck and pour it carefully into my exposed esophagus. The sensation made whatever was left of my shredded and burned throat muscles constrict and try to swallow. But other than that it wasn’t that horrible of an experience.

I put a tiny bit of water in my mouth and move it around with my tongue since my mouth is dry. I have a sudden realization after my newly moistened mouth leaks saliva all over my chest that this was a bad idea. I lurch forward as it starts going down my "nonexistent" throat and dripping into the wrong tube. Coughing is weird. My lungs seem to be trying to work like normal. The nanomites must be getting oxygen from them or maybe from the surface of my skin since I really doubt that I was getting enough air despite “breathing”. Honestly I wish I paid more attention in anatomy and biology class.

I watch the liquid bubble at the top of the tube and try to dab it dry. I shudder closing my eyes as I never wanted to know what it felt like to stick a finger in my lung hole. I start chuffing again from the ridiculousness of the situation. But quickly grow somber again watching the people hustling to take all their notes and vials to leave. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for the virus’s fight for control to win but I bet the nanomites are going to win just from what I watched through the microscope. How can physical bacteria defeat robots? 

A needle draws my attention. The woman in a black lab coat flicks it a few times and then squeezes air out of the tube.

“What’s that?” I start to say before, with increasing frustration, at forgetting again that I can’t speak. ‘Where is my notebook?’ I look around and notice that the scientist is gone. I watch the needle go into my skin and the woman silently finishes up. Then to my surprise smiles at me.

“I look forward to dissecting you.” She beams and I lurch back only to feel my consciousness slip away and I fall backwards almost in slow motion. The last thing I see is the faces of all the nurses and doctors grinning in distorted smiles as the lights and ceiling tiles blur into nothingness.

I wake up to a bone-saw whirring and close my eyes tighter, ‘No I can’t handle watching this. I don’t want to know, I don’t want to see. I draw the line at seeing an anatomical version of my neck, I refuse to see my body's insides too.’ I'm tense, is it going to hurt or did they numb me?’ Wait, will it heal afterwards? What if I lose too many nanomites?’ I test to see if I’m restrained. I’m not. I peek open an eye. I’m in a different room, the whirring is an air conditioning unit. I sit up with relief finding myself alone but undressed in a room. Another mirror. I peek at it and gasp my body is back to normal. Mostly.

I pull the blanket around myself and touch my throat, it’s back thank goodness. But how? Was this all a dream? No…I notice that my teeth are still weird. My heart is still not beating. But my skin color is warm again. I can feel blood in my veins which doesn’t seem normal. I try to make a noise and fall to my knees in relief, “I can speak again.” I say out loud and wince when the door opens. My hearing is much stronger now. I cover my ears looking at the doctor. He takes a very long look at me in slightly repressed shock giving me deja vu. 

Then pulls a chair out to sit on. “Well that wasn’t supposed to happen,” he says, making me laugh. He looks like I slapped him, I guess he’s not used to his patients laughing. 

“At least I look alive again.” I say. He doesn’t respond for a second. “So was I actually dissected?” I ask looking at my chest which isn’t in the slightest bit scarred. I notice that my skin is the opposite, perfect. I don’t have any of the old blemishes or scrapes from the zombies attacking me. Not even a scar I got as a kid while riding my bike when my dad encouraged me to ride down a giant hill. I feel a little twinge cause it feels like a part of me is missing. But then I note that my face though perfect before now no longer has any of the old acne scars. It’s a little uncanny. 

I turn back to the doctor who is watching me very closely. “You are one of the first subjects to be obsessed with their image, most can’t stand looking at themselves.” He says and I try to determine if he’s being passive aggressive or not. “Yes, our expert performed an autopsy on you.” 

“But,” I start, “even though my heart stopped, my brain was still working so wasn't I technically not dead.”

He gives me an irritated look and taps the autopsy report against his hand, “Well how many people do you know are considered alive without a heartbeat for hours?” He opens the report before I mention that their nanomites were what was “keeping me alive”. “We wanted to see exactly what was going on inside of you and if there were any other organs not working.” 

A guard enters suddenly, making me stiffen. I can smell and sense the virus in him now and it was causing my body to have a visceral reaction. I get toothy and have to clench the table I was sitting on to stop myself from moving. Part of me pretends it wasn’t to run away. I'm trembling.

The doctor continues like nothing, “All your organs were being kept alive but activity slowed way down, more than likely you wouldn’t have survived a month. Even if you ate anything, it's unlikely that sustenance would have been properly processed, and that the corresponding organs would be able to do what they were supposed to do with it.” 

Part of me wrinkles my nose. “How come the nanomites are able to act like blood but not like any of my other organs?” 

The doctor raises an annoyed brow, “Blood is considered connective tissue.” And then continues, “We gave you a transfusion and started your heart again after the autopsy, as afore mentioned, we can’t remove the nanomites but the other virus is completely dead.” 

I place my hand over my chest in case I had been mistaken but not having a heartbeat isn’t something you just miss. 

“I don’t have a heartbeat and-”

“What?” He interrupts, standing. He lifts his stethoscope and presses the cold metal against my chest. After a minute the guard steps forward and I flinch away from him but the doctor is already turning towards him, “Hold him down we need to restart his heart.”

“Wait!” I exclaim as the guard approaches and I start getting foggy headed from terror, “I won’t resist just keep him away from me!” 

The doctor scoffs something under his breath and calls for a nurse. They bring in an AED and I hiss at the guard making a warning noise in my throat that seems to make total sense at the moment. The guard doesn’t even flinch, shoving me down against the table. One hand on my throat to stop me from biting him. I struggle and writhe because my whole body is telling me that the guard is trying to kill me. I scream and feeling that I’m stronger now line up my legs with his chest before giving him a strong kick. I sit up, panting.

The guard had stumbled back and caught himself on the counter. He doesn’t try to move forward just looking at the doctor and nurse who are now frozen in fear. I look at myself and make a noise of disgust. My body is now laced with black veins like the zombie and a deathly shade of gray but just as randomly as it shows up it starts fading. To the doctor and nurse I calmly say. “I told you I wouldn’t resist YOU.” I emphasize the last word, “but keep that,” I snarl at the guard, “away from me.” 

The doctor and nurse seem a little shaken until they start looking a little too happy and I have to remind myself that they’re probably a little crazy to work here and deal with zombies and experiments all day. My heart is promptly forgotten about which is fine. I know the nanomites are doing their job and keeping me alive. They talk excitedly, switching to a different language and pointing at me and the guard. I bite my lip and then look back at the guard nervously he is giving me such a strange look. I’m calmer now as if I’ve dissociated from my fear of him. 

I know it has something to do with the virus or viruses inside of me. Considering he is much bigger and more muscular than me I would normally just have a healthy respect for him and his boundaries. I notice that his nose is subtly moving. He’s sniffing, that’s what hits me, that yeah he’s a zombie, and now so am I. I cringe as I remember a second ago, losing it and hissing. 

I just want to bury my face in the blankets. I notice that my eyes are still changed and glare at the mirror demanding they turn back but instead black veins start spreading out across my face and I hyperventilate, looking away, shaking uncontrollably as I get cold. I roll over onto my side as I have a feeling like I’m about to get sick. 

I wrap the blankets tighter around myself as slowly more and more smells fill the room. I can’t handle them, they're so sickly I wretch and finally as though I had to suffer as long as possible I expel something from my body. I open my eyes slightly as the ringing and spinning stops. Then roll the other way as my body starts to burn up. I curse as I start sweating and I’m guessing this is the virus taking control of my body now. If this is what it feels like to be infected I feel bad for everyone here. The last time I felt even remotely close to this was when I got a fever so bad I ended up in the hospital. 

I start losing track of time and the times that my body switches from hot and cold. I’m so thirsty I’m begging for water but everyone ignores me, I can’t see straight when I open my eyes. Then the hunger starts. Little rumbles and I curl up to whimper then soon the strength of the hunger turns some switch in my brain that only weeks and weeks of starvation can. I open my eyes and notice that I’m literally surrounded by food. I reach out noting how weak I am. The food doesn’t even flinch when I touch them.

I sit up slowly and have to hold my head for a while so it stops spinning. My vision refuses to clear, everything is nauseatingly bright and blurry. My jaws feel loose and I open them as the drool starts pooling. I lean forwards going to bite into the food but they move ever so slightly and I end up missing, pressing my head against their shoulder. I’m sleepy. I close my eyes and now the smell isn’t so bad anymore. I feel a confused hand settle on my back, rubbing it comfortingly. I whimper as the hot and cold flashes return along with the pain.