Wastelands. Those were all that were left of once bustling city cores. New York City was the first to be destroyed. That damned portal which admitted the Chitauri also allowed in some sort of extraterrestrial parasite.
At first, there was nothing.
Nothing came up on the scans by SHIELD, the CIA, the FBI, or even by Iron Man. Nothing. Then, one day, a month after the Chitauri and Loki, people started collapsing in the middle of the streets. Minutes later, they would be revived, only to attack anything that moved.
"'Like zombies,'" the president had scientifically noted during the first few days of the outbreak.
Only when doctors managed to capture one and do an assessment did they realize that those people had never died. Their bodies had been taken over by a mysterious mixture of a virus and fungal infection. It was nothing ever seen before.
The disease spread rapidly. Anyone was susceptible to it when coming in contact with the fungus or someone already infected with it. Symptoms were little to none within the first few hours of the contracting the disease.
Over the course of the next few days, the infected person's actions would be similar to those of a starving, rabid animal. Its victims were very unlucky bastards.
The host's condition would worsen, with blisters, rashes, and ulcers progressively growing on the skin until the host died. It painted a rather gruesome and gory picture of those infected, but that was the harsh reality.
All the labs across New York State began to look for a cure. To prevent the infection from spreading, the city began closing off its boundaries. No one was allowed to leave.
Unfortunately, closing the borders did nothing to stop the entire east coast from being infected. Several citizens had already passed the infection on to those of other cities.
Eventually, there were thousands of cases across the country. Hundreds were dead, and still, there was no cure. The World Health Organization tried and failed time and time again to find a cure. It was impossible to synthesize a parasite that could mutate in hours outside of a host.
SHIELD worked feverishly to try and contain the infection, all while searching for a way to stop it. They put their best and brightest from around the world to work. Small samples of tissues from the deceased Infected were sent to contained, isolated labs.
There was an incident in Moscow where a sample was lost, only to be discovered hours later in the hands of a young boy. How it got there, Nick Fury was adamant on finding out.
Months passed. Thousands and thousands infected. More and more killed. No one was safe.
Quarantine zones were erected every few miles. The infection still managed to spread like wildfire around the world.
Not only were there infected, but also starving former inhabitants of the quarantined cities. Some were driven out, while some took advantage of the chaos to rampage towns.
News eventually got out that there was a case in the White House. Weeks later, the president was dead.
The symbolism of the president was crucial in times of country-wide devastation. Immediately after the news broadcast, riots broke out in almost all the states. Quarantine zones were destroyed, government buildings burned down, and several medical buildings firebombed.
"This is getting to an almost catastrophic level of destruction, director," a new member of the World Security Council intoned. "Is there still no inkling of a cure?"
"If there were, we'd be dropping crates of them out of the sky right now." SHIELD director, Nick Fury grimaced. It was a nice thought. "Anyways, with a tenth of the world's population already dead, some people have already given up. I know for a fact that RAID's final hideout has been destroyed by infected."
There was a knock on the door. "Sir? Agent Fitz and Simmons are here."
"The world is in chaos," another council member said loudly.
Fury rolled his eyes and followed his second-in-command out the door. "Thanks, Hill." She obeyed his dismissive nod and left, shutting the World Security Council's holograms off behind her.
Now it was just him and the two agents in the control room.
"Director Fury," Agent Fitz rapidly said. "We have news of the latest batch of tests. It had been going well... until – uh." He ran his shaking hands through his hair. "Well..."
"Until they mutated again," Agent Simmons put in quickly, laying a hand on her frazzled partner's shoulder. "But this time, it was in a host. An hour after injecting the grade one subject, it reacted violently, and could be classified as a grade three infected."
"Long story short, it quickened the process of the parasite," Fitz commented.
He noted the blood on their shoes. "How many injured?"
"They contained the subject fairly quickly," Fitz said, "but it bit one of the doctors and broke a few bones."
"Why were there no alarms sounded?" he snapped.
"I don't know, sir."
He frowned. He'd have to have a talk with security eventually. "Thanks, agents."
They nodded at him and left, muttering amongst themselves. His attempt to make a helicarrier-wide announcement failed: no sound resonated as he spoke into the microphone. He tapped the control panel to call Hill in, but it was unnecessary: she barged in a second later, splattered in blood from head to toe.
"Multiple subjects loose on the med floor, sir," she said. "I killed a couple that managed to get up here. Grade twos. One agent down." Hill took an earpiece out of her pocket and slammed it onto the control panel. "Comms are down, too. I think the damned infected are fucking up the transmission signals."
"This is a code red, agent. Notify the whole crew."
She jammed the emergency alarms' and lights' buttons, but nothing happened. Repeatedly slamming the switch, she gave up and growled.
"I tried it downstairs, too," she said. "None of our tech's working."
He pounded his fist on the panels. "Then scream like Paul Revere if you have to. Just let everyone know that there are fucking infected running loose on the last safe haven in America!"
"Yes, sir." She took off, shouting as she left.
With a heavy sigh, he prepped his weapons and took off down the corridor. He had some infected to kill.