Chapter Text
David was an EMT, he had always wanted to be one since he was a child. When he was only 9, he was in a wreck. A pretty bad one, but thankfully he and his mom didn't get too horribly injured. Riding in the ambulance was scary then since his mom had to take a separate one because of her injuries, but the EMTs that were stabilizing him on the way to the hospital talked to him and kept him calm.
Honestly, knowing what he knows now, he was probably more gravely injured than he thought back then, but he survived with only a few scars, nothing that affected his ability to help people in an emergency. He liked helping in an emergency, gave him an adrenaline rush and he very well may save someone's life!
… this wasn't one of those cases, however..
Apparently someone found a body just laying in the middle of a sidewalk on their morning run, and because of Hurricane’s poorly funded and even worse structured police force, they had to borrow a mode of transport for it. And his ambulance got the short straw..
So now, here he sat. In the back of his ambulance with a cop and a body bag as Marshall drove them to the precinct for the police investigation… he couldn't say it was boring, he'd seen the body, whoever did this was sick , but… Well, it's not the checking vitals and doing on the move stabilization he signed up for.
They were probably halfway to their destination when he heard something. a wet strangled gasp.. he couldn't tell where it was coming from at first, looking up at officer Bennett with a quirked brow, a silent question of if he heard it too. And according to his expression he had. His brows were pinched in confusion just as David's were...
Both sets of eyes were dragged to the sound of something scraping against thick plastic. Something scraping against the body bag…
David watched as, slowly, something pressed out against the black polyethylene, pushing the vague shape of a hand out of the formless bag. “Oh my god..” he heard the officer mumble, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. “He's still alive!”
David's eyes widened. No , he thought to himself, too frozen to even speak, that's not possible not in that state!
Before he could react though, the officer was already up, it was all David could do to scream out a shrill “ No!! ” Before the bag was unzipped.
What followed… was silence… The ambulance was heavy with anticipation. Slowly, so slowly , a trembling hand rose out of the bag, along with more horrible gasps. Officer Bennett visibly recoiled at the sight before him, poor bastard was lucky enough to arrive after the body was bagged, and thus was taken completely aback. He had no way to expect purple rot, nor a face that was barely holding itself together. The training at the academy must be better than David thought, or Bennett was just a hell of a man, but he quickly refocused himself, forcing down his disgust for the benefit of the patient(?).
“Sir-” he coughed when the smell hit him. “S-sir, I'm officer James Bennet of the Hurricane police force, can you tell me your name?” The only response he received for his question was more choking, wet, desperate gasps. “I-i don't think he can breathe..” Bennett looked up at Dave with a stony expression, though horror and fear could be seen clear as day in his eyes. “Come on, man, do somethi-”
His words are cut off suddenly as previously sluggish movements turned quick, the rotted arm grabbing him by the jaw and pulling him in. David couldn't tell where Bennett’s screams ended and his own screaming began. He felt Marshall swerve, likely startled, but he didn't care about that right now. Blood, there was so much blood . When the thing finally let him go, because lord knows Bennett would have lost his jaw before he escaped on his own, blood was squirting out of his shoulder like a fountain. He was alive for now, but David knew in an instant there was no surviving that..
He watched as the body slowly sat up from the bag, like a vampire rising from a coffin, it's head slowly swiveling until two empty sockets land right on him.. he felt as though its empty holes were looking into his soul.. blood dribbled down it's chin, and as it began to climb out of the bag he could see bits of Bennett tumble out of its opened empty stomach, giving a wet splat as the chunks hit the floor.
This is it… he's going to die…. Damnit, why can't he move!? His whole job is being good under pressure!! He risked one more glance at Bennett, then his eyes widened.
He had his gun out. Pointed right at the creature between them . His eyes half lidded and hand shaking.. that idiot! “Don't shoot!!” He shouted. The noise set the zombie, because what else could it be, off, and it lunged for him. He finally moved, stepping out of the way just in time. But then he heard a loud bang echo through the small area. There was a searing pain in his head. Then a split second later every sensation was entirely foreign to him.. and David was gone…
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He stood on shaky legs, looking out at an empty road, houses on either side of the street. Something was.. wrong.. but he wasn't sure what..
He needed something.. but what… his eyes moved around slowly, looking at the houses, but he didn't turn his head. That felt like a monumental task, one he simply didn't have the energy for..
He licked his lips, feeling both his lips and tongue were dry as sand. Water- no.. he likes.. fruit punch.. it's not good for him, and it's a little childish.. but he's always liked fruit punch. He tries to be healthy, health was kinda his job after all- wait.. wasn't he supposed to be at work right now?.. no.. no probably… probably not.. if he wasn't there was probably a good reason. So…
The image of a woman passed through his brain, and he felt cracked lips pull, likely into a smile. Home. He needed to go home to his fiancée Samantha!
With that decided, he begins to walk. He's slow, slower than he thinks he should be, but his brain was such a mess right now he couldn't be sure. He decides not to pay it any mind. It takes all his effort to hold on to where his house is, where home is. So he just focuses on that.
He doesn't notice the faint crunch of glass beneath his feet, nor the crashed ambulance behind him. He doesn't need to notice all that.
What he needed was his beloved Samantha.
He was walking for a few minutes before he finally found a street sign he recognized, allowing him to get his bearings. And from there it was the simple act of following his feet to the front door of his home. He looked up at the building in front of him, the sidings were a soft pastel yellow with a dark blue roof, white trimmings accenting the look perfectly.
It was.. strange, actually. Looking up at his home… like something was wrong with the image..
However, he couldn't place it, so he decided to just address that later. He patted his right pocket, only to feel it was empty. He must have forgotten his keys in the ambulance.. then he remembered another… no matter! He'll pick them up tomorrow. For now, he can just use the spare!
He knelt down as a memory shot through him like lightning, then he lifted the rock at his feet, easily finding the key in a little hidden compartment in the false stone. That done, he returned to standing before unlocking his front door and entering.
The lights were off.. why…. Oh yeah! Samantha works nights, so she would be asleep right now. With that understanding, he closes the door quietly, and begins to silently creep across the floor. He knew exactly which floorboards to avoid, and he knew which stairs to skip as he ascended to the second floor where their bedroom was. The door creaked softly as he opened it, and he stood there for a moment to see if it had woken her.
Thankfully, she continued to sleep peacefully, the curtains drawn closed to cast the room in pitch black darkness. Honestly.. he could go for a nap himself…
So once again he walks. His steps are more silent than those of a mouse. He feels so light on his feet despite his exhaustion. When he sits on his side the bed barely dents, but if he noticed his brain certainly didn't inform him that wasn't right. He moved slowly as he laid down, the bed gave a few creaks but nothing too loud. Then once he was settled he slipped his arm under hers and around her waist.
She shifted slightly at the touch, but he knew she would soon fall back asleep. Her hand moved to rest on his where it sat just under her chest. Then she paused. Her fingers felt around his hand. Then her hand slowly traced up his arm, feeling him. Then she began to roll over, turning to look at him. Their eyes met. Her half closed orbs to his.
“H i-i.. dA- a Rl i-” his voice was wrong.
Her eyes blew wide open, and she screamed the most gut churning, horror movie scream one could produce. It curdled his blood by sound alone, and broke his heart as he was quickly fought.
She hit and shoved and kicked, desperate to get out of his hold, it took him a moment to realize he hadn't yet let go. But the moment this fact struck him just as his beloved had many times by now, he was quick to release her. Only to watch her run screaming out of the room.
what.. what did he do- what did he do wrong?? Why did she run away, why did she seem so.. scared?... he loved her, and- and they were fine this morning when she got home! So.. why…..
Wh-what.. happened today….
He tried to think hard, but.. the memories were stubborn.. They were fighting him. His head hurt, his…. his… Head …..
He suddenly heard the ghost of a gunshot echo through his mind, the image of that.. thing … Officer… his gun….
He shot up out of bed, collapsing to the ground at first thanks to the unsteady nature of his limbs, but he rushed himself to stand. He.. he needed….
The bathroom mirror, he needs to- t-to see He-... somethings wrong, he- he knows it. He…. He knows….
He reaches the bathroom before too long, and he enters, going straight to the mirror. What he sees isn't.. it's not what he expected…
He thought he would see himself, his squared jawline and deep brown eyes, maybe.. maybe with a hole in his forehead.. maybe bloody… but.. no, this face… It was nothing like his.
In the mirror, the face looking back at him, staring into his soul like, like it did back in the ambulance, like it too couldn't believe the sight.. It was a thin, angular face, its features gaunt and hollow, and its skin a mottled purple color, splotches of suffocating blues and moldy yellow-greens sparsely decorating its features as well. Its face was almost torn in half, jaw hanging on by little more than threads of flesh that made up its remaining cheeks. Its hair was thin and stringy, matted and clumped together with dried blood, Its eye sockets were entirely hollow save for two glowing brown rings that seemed to simply float in the empty abyss.
That.. that's his eye color what.. what was it doing in that face?...
It's mouth- his mouth- opened slowly, as if testing that it wouldn't crash straight onto the floor. The voice that came out was raspy and strained, as though it hadn't been used in some time. And decidedly not the voice of David Carnell.
“ W h o… a-a M…. I…?”