by ~MirrorDemonNema
Bored. Bored, bored, bored, BORED! It was the same dreary thing every damn day. The doctors peeked in his room, came in, and started talking to him. Sometimes, they brought something that may have been food at one time, but he had no appetite for it. For a laugh, he would bite the doctors and nurses, but they put this stupid bite mask on him. He had stopped fighting the straitjacket a long time ago, but he was figuring out how to get around with it. The young boy could independently stand up and walk around now. He had been locked away in this cell for a very long time, around the time he painted that pretty picture with the neighbor girl. She had the most beautiful crimson paint he had ever used.
"...What's this...?" He muttered, seeing a change in the monotonous pattern of the institution. His long, thick, blue hair hung down in front of his face as he leaned forward. The lights flickered and everything went dark. A loud clank signalled that the heavy iron door was now unlocked. He cautiously got to his feet and walked over to the door. The padded floor was cold to his bare feet. Unable to see anything, the boy leaned up against the door and it opened. There were some people, doctors and patients alike, lumbering around the halls.
That's odd... He pondered silently. He couldn't help but grin as he walked around. Darius doesn't get in trouble! He snickered, remembering last time he got caught outside of his cell. His steps were slow and uneven, due to the simple fact that he'd been in that little room for far too long. As he approached some of the people, he noticed that they had dried blood all over them and their eyes were blank.
"How lovely!" Darius exclaimed, joyous that others were seeing the beauty of the red paint. Some of them made a low growl as he felt something grab his leg. When he looked down, he saw that a man with twisted legs had ahold of his ankle and bit down on his foot. Jerking his now-injured foot away from the man's mouth, he almost lost his balance. Sensing the danger, he fled awkwardly the other way. Not knowing or caring where he was going, the boy rammed a set of double doors with his shoulder and suddenly found himself outside. The city was in ruin, wrecked cars and random fires littered the streets. Darius laughed maniacally at the beautiful chaos that ran rampant through the city. "This'll be fun!" He shouted so loud, the night sky agreed with him.
**********
His body ached as he walked around the empty(ish) streets. His thin lips felt numb as he breathed heavily, trudging along to nowhere. Exhausted, he found a nice little hidey-hole to sleep in. As he laid down, he coughed heavily, sick with something. Angrily yelling at the unseen ailment, he curled into a tiny ball, pain wracking his entire body.
"Make it stop!" Darius shouted to no one. "Stop it now!" His ravings continued. The overall pain increased, overwhelming the boy. He shook his head madly, shouting at the top of his lungs to drown out the pain. His screams turned into long, eerie howls. He opened his mouth so wide, his cheeks began to tear.
"What the hell is that racket?" An angry, raspy voice demanded. Darius' pained screams diminished to pained groans.
"Who... who's there?" The blue-haired boy asked nervously, mostly afraid of what was happening to him. A thick, dry coughing got louder as someone poked their head into the alley. Tumory-things covered one side of his face and his skin was dark and discolored, but the dead giveaway(lol) that he was Infected was the absurdly long tongue that hung from the tall man's mouth.
"What the...?" He muttered quietly, bringing a cigarette up to his lips as he stepped closer. Unable to use his arms, Darius used his feet to kick away from the zombie.
"Leave Darius alone!" He pleaded pitifully. Unable to tell whether he was coughing or laughing, the boy looked warily at the smokey zombie.
"You're pretty funny." He laughed/coughed. "Since you're talking to me, you're obviously one of us." He explained, bemused.
"What...? What do you mean?" The boy demanded.
"You can call me Graham." The Smoker introduced himself casually. "Cain's around here somewhere, but you'll be fine." he puffed on his ciggie. Darius may have been crazy, but this was too much.
"What's going on...?" He asked quietly, scared of his alien surroundings and predicament. Graham looked at him, surprised.
"You really don't know?" He hacked. "You're Infected. As am I." He explained rather bluntly.
"Infect...ed?" The blue-haired boy repeated slowly.
"You don't know about the Infection? Wow, you must've been in there for a while..." Graham made a pitiful attempt at a whistle. "To put it simply, people who aren't Infected are going to shoot at people who are Infected. Us." He continued. "So we do what we can to kill them." This piqued the boy's interest. "Belive it or not, it's really fun." The Smoker chuckled.
"...really fun..." Darius said quietly, toying with the idea as he remembered the pretty red paint. A wry smile formed along his torn lips. "Darius is happy to meet Graham..." His mind wrapped around the new reality. "Will Darius get to paint with their blood?" He asked hopefully. Graham smiled slyly, seeing Darius' insanity and not caring.
"Only the best." He nodded, coughing as he did so. "Only the best paint, Darius." Graham repeated, seeing the mad joy dancing in the Screamer's eyes.