The doctor grabbed the man first, his large hand wrapping
around the back of the man’s neck.
“Doctor Hooper, please…” the screaming man was struggling.
Doctor Hooper wasn’t listening. He slammed the man hard
against the wall, his face smacking into the smooth surface with such force
that I could hear the crunch of his teeth getting knocked loose, then
clattering to the floor.
“Doctor… Hooper… please, don’t.” The man’s voice was weaker
now, slurred by the blood pouring out of his mouth.
Doctor Hooper and the other patient paid the man’s pleading no
mind. Instead, the doctor ripped open the back of the man’s hospital gown,
exposing his bare, blood streaked skin. Now the patient was moving towards the man.
As he stepped closer, I could see that something large and metal had fused to
his neck, smoking wires snaking under the patient’s skin, and distorting the
right side of his face. His right eye was nothing more than a goopy mess
sliding down his cheek.
His left eye was glowing that familiar, hot white.
The patient raised his hand, revealing the cellphone. The screen
was lit, flashing bright white, then red, then green, then white again. The
hand moved closer, the cellphone pressed into the screaming man’s skin.
His pleas for help transformed into pained howls as the
cellphone parted his flesh, ripping his left shoulder blade wide open. The case
of the phone cracked, and writhing wires burst forth, digging into the exposed
muscle and bone.
Then the man stopped screaming. The cellphone shot out of the
patient’s hand, burrowing itself into the large incision.
It was over. Virus now owned that man.
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