Robert's Fanfiction Story (28 Days Later: Where Am I?)

Blood. All I can taste is blood. The ground pressed up against the length of my freezing body. A cool breeze rushes over my body, invading my bloodstained skin and sending an army of unforgiving chills up my bruised backbone. I struggle to move, just to see if my limbs are still intact. A sharp pain is shot down the length of my arm as I struggle to move it, kicking down my motivation for staying alive even more. I can feel bone piercing out through my flesh. Its pain is excruciating as I attempt to move it again, but I back out and leave it be.

With my eyes still shut, I can see the orange glow of light penetrating through my eyelids. I’m afraid to open them, afraid of seeing the scale of destruction this barbaric virus has caused. With a hint of confidence I peel them open slowly, sending streams of fluorescent light beams into my pupils. A textured ceiling fishing down a solid length of glass tubing. Its presence hovering over my face, shining brighter than the milky way on a clear night.

I sit up slowly to get a glimpse of my surroundings as my eyes adjust to this supernova of light. A small cell by the looks of it, with nothing but a steel chair huddled in the far corner, and a plastic trestle table standing smack bang in the centre of these prison like surroundings. The only view I have of the outside world is a large plexi-glass window on the far wall. I climb onto my feet to peer through this invisible wall. A dim lit room with a trio of office chairs, a wooden table soaked in what appears to be blood, and a notepad with nothing written on it but the scribbled words, “Facility lockdown is our only hope.”

My mind dives into reboot mode as I try to distinguish the real world from my dreams. Is this real? What could I have possibly done to deserve this? Am I a prisoner of this deserted dungeon, or even worse, a specimen?

My mind races and my heart pumps waves of anxiety through my trembling veins. I stumble into the steel chair, its coldness not affecting my nerves as adrenaline rushes through me. My head in my hands, I’m struggling to understand what’s going on. A few minutes pass and I leap back onto my feet, grabbing the chair with both hands and slamming it into the window, letting out a loud bloodcurdling scream, hoping somebody hears me. The window throws the chair back at me with force before I try again and again, the sound of the chair hitting the glass echoing throughout the building.

With my mind set on giving up, a dim red lamp mounted onto the back of the observation room catches my attention from the corner of my eye. I drop the steel chair and wipe my eyes free of the tears flooding my vision to get a closer look. The light flickers rapidly over a large warning sign on the back wall. Tuning my eyes into focus, the sign reads, “WARNING: Biohazard. All personnel must be equipped with a standard BIOTECH Ltd. hazmat suit before entering.”

Emotionless, I pace back from the window slowly until my back hits the wall, sliding down onto the floor, and pull out my issued Police Force pistol, and say my prayers.


-Robert McCambridge