A/N: This fic was inspired by the music video for My Plague by Slipknot. I do not own the video, nor Resident Evil, they belong to Slipknot/RoadRunner Records and Paul W.S Anderson/Constantine Film/CAPCOM. I just thought it would be fun to try and write a fic from the perspective of a victim of the T-Virus during Apocalypse/Extinction. This fic could be set either pre-Extinction or during the scene in Las Vegas.
Thinking back to your childhood, you remember being an only child. You grew up with your mother and father. You didn't have any pets.
Now that you're an adult, you're staring into the dead eyes of what used to be a dog, but is now a rotting mammal. You can see various parts of it's skin falling from it's body and while being scared out of your wits, you are vaguely aware of being glad you never had any pets.
When you were a teenager you listened to rap and hip-hop. You were the outcast in your group of friends, who all listened to heavy metal. They would tell you stories about gigs they had gone to, and the mosh pits they had been involved in.
Presently you wonder if this is what it feels like to be in a mosh pit, with the hands of zombies grabbing at you from every direction and pulling you under. You feel their teeth clamp down into your flesh and draw blood. You think you can feel the virus seep through your system but you try to convince yourself that it's just adrenaline.
Now as one of the undead you do not care about the past. All you care about is finding your next meal. You do not care if that meal is a member of the convoy you joined a few weeks ago. As you make your way towards them, you don't hear the safety of the leaders gun being clicked off. The only thing going through your mind is the thought of food. You don't register the bullet going through your brain, and by the time you do, you're not aware of anything. Not even the need to feed.