Death Walker: Origins

It hurt to breath. Herman could feel the pounding of his own heart inside his head and every pulse brought a wave of racking pain. His world had become pain. Nothing but pain and the stretch of concrete he was slowly crawling down. Fire swirled around the building and the rumble of explosions rocked him, but it was cold. Pain and cold.

His broken ribs protested against his lurching movements so that he didn't even realize that he had been vomiting until he was spitting out the bile and blood to keep from choking. Lovely. He was going to die alone in the aftermath of an accidental bombing. The city was in flames and it's unlikely that anyone will ever find him. The young man lying in his own blood and vomit couldn't think of a worse way to die.

Hours passed as the sound of crackling flames and all too distant sirens as his only company. He shivered as the dull ache of his injuries started to fade under the oppressive cold. Even though his limbs barely worked any more he managed a slow crawl. Herman knew how dangerous the cold could be on the human body and while moving might aggravate his injuries, all that would ever find him in that ditch, was death.

Another violent convulsion caught up to him as he climbed up a section of crumbling steps that shifted under his weight all the way up to lobby level of the building. He fell against the wall and slid down to lay along the cement stairs for a moment. When he gathered the strength to rise again he found that the pain had become suppressed.

"I must be going into shock," Herman tried to say. But it didn't come out right. His speech was slurred, but he managed to say one word clearly enough. "Fuck"

When he made it to the lobby he found all the large glass windows on the front of the building shattered. Glass was strewn around the lobby and flames reflected off the shattered windows. None of the parking lights seemed to be working and the lights of buildings in the distance were missing. Twisted metal and concrete burned against the darkness. What the hell happened? Was it an earthquake or some kind of bomb? For that matter, where is everyone? The building and the parking lot were completely empty. Not even bodies were left from whatever caused this damage.

Stumbling to his feet he made his way outside into the marking area looking for his car. Finding it he reached into hid pocket and pulled out his keys immediately dropping them.

"Nhh..." Herman felt dizzy and almost fell over as he stooped to pick them up.

His hands weren't working right and he just couldn't manage to unlock his door. His hands slipped against the plastic siding and wouldn't hold the keys right. That's when he saw himself in the mirror. Dried blood was running down his face from a head injury and his eyes didn't look right. He needed to get to a hospital and he couldn't even get into his own car. The only way to get there was to walk and hope that he got help along the way before his injuries caught up to him.

As he walked out onto the street he saw other injured people walking together. They had banded together to make it to the city. All of them were injured pretty badly like Herman, and he shuffled hurriedly to catch up. Joining the crowd of people wordlessly he knew they would make it to safety as long as they stuck together. It seemed like almost no time had passed when towering buildings started passing on either side of them. He didn't even feel tired after the long walk, but he did feel hungry. There was a coffee shop around the corner and Herman went inside.

"Oh, my God what happened to you? You need a hospital." The woman behind the counter put down a magazine on fashion and picked up a phone. "What's going on out there?"

Herman stood there confused about what to do now. He wanted to order a bagel and a latte. A bagel and a latte! A bagel and a freaking latte! Fuck! Why can't I just say it! Give me a fucking bagel and a goddamn latte! Herman stumbled torwards the counter.

"The phones don't seem to be working, and the power is out. It only happened a few hours ago. If this building didn't have a backup generator we'd have to close."

That's when Herman bit her. He didn't know why he did it. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time. He immediately felt bad about it. He'd taken a good size chunk out of her neck and wanted to spit it out. He swallowed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" the woman cried out while holding her neck. "Get away from me!"

Other injured came into the coffee shop. They must be hungry to. They head for the counter to order. Over the counter to see about the hurt woman. Oh God their biting her to. What is wrong!?

Herman heard gunshots being fired and turned around. Some men on a truck were firing into the injured. What are they doing? Can't they see that they are hurt and just want help?

A man walked in holding a shotgun and a chainsaw. The chainsaw was bloody. What kind of sicko was this?

"Get away from that woman!"

All they want is something to eat. She got hurt. I bit her. Why?

Chunks of Herman's flesh flew off of him. The man shot him. Didn't feel it. Why?

The world goes around. Herman hits the floor. Chunks of brain beside him. Dead?