Roger had absolutely no idea as to why he ran.

The guy was obviously in need of desperate medical attention. Vomit was not supposed to be black. Hematemesis was a very, very serious problem. He knew that meant that guy was bleeding internally and that meant a number of things from fucking Ebola, to Yellow Fever. Then why hadn't Roger stayed to help him? Why had he run? He stopped in his tracks and stared at the distance he had managed to put between him and that guy. Everything was a mess in his head, and he was finding it hard to think rationally in his panic. That was a problem he tended to have. Once he could calm down he was usually fine. He hoped that was soon.

Roger knew something was wrong though, and deep down his gut feeling did too. The guy DID growl at him after all. He guessed he could've been delirious, 'I mean, if I were that sick…I'd be a little grumpy too' he thought to himself, leaning his thin frame again one of the walls. It then hit him as stray thoughts often did when you just got done running from some critically ill dude for absolutely no reason. "Aww man, I left my backpack with him…." Roger muttered in defeat, "That has my dorm key in it." He stood still biting his lip and placed a hand behind his head, while running the fingers of his other hand through his hair. This was an odd situation.

Significantly calmed after the little incident, he began contemplating what would be the consequences should he decide to run right back to the guy he just left vomiting in the hallways. "The dude was just sick after all, I mean…" No, said that little nagging inner voice, there was something else. 'You said it yourself vomit was not supposed to be black' he thought, rubbing his hands down his face. "…. Shit, if it's like…. Ebola or something." There was a chance for infection. That wasn't something he had thought about. Panic began to spread through him like fire, infection! Shit, That was a possibility! "Oh my god, what is happening?" he found him self muttering as he grasped at straws to figure out where to go from here.

He hadn't expected to come to his answer to the dilemma so quickly. It was unusual for Roger to be this impulsive, unless it was you know…to tell a stupid joke. Roger prided himself in careful practicality. This kind of went against that aspect of his personality. Despite the man's apparent horrible affliction and the very obvious risk of infection, Roger knew he had to help…. or at the very least grab his backpack and get the fuck out of there. Something needed to be done; maybe it as well ought to have been him doing it. Letting out a sigh of silent resolve he made his way back. At least, should he reach his backpack, he could get his cellphone out and call 911. Now, that was a positive thought!

Turns out that guy never left. He was still milling about as soon as Roger arrived on the scene. That was good…he guessed. He approached slowly and cautiously trying not to upset the poor dude but that didn't stop the sick guy from snapping his head up suddenly to look at Roger like a wolf would glower at a sheep before sinking his teeth in. Roger backed off. Just a few minutes before that guy barely paid any sort of attention to him…why the sudden change in demeanor? This sent fear unlike anything he ever felt before rumbling through his spine, especially when he noticed the man's eyes. Oh hell, that was not human.

Not even thinking, he looked to his backpack and back to the ill man and made a grab for it.

The man rushed as well, screaming at the top of his lungs like some monstrosity out of hell and lunged for Roger's bare arm, or his throat he couldn't tell which. Jerking back, Roger managed to completely avoid the man's gnashing teeth and instead brought his backpack down on the man's head, stunning him enough to at least back away and covering the front of it with fresh blood as the books within its confines met the man's head with a loud crunch, splitting the skin wide open. It was convenient that he carried many heavy textbooks with him at all times after all.

The man staggered as Roger stepped quickly backwards, barely managing to avoid the puddle of sick the dude had barfed up before. "DUDE, WHAT THE HELL?" Roger managed to scream out, quickly looking away to see if there was anyone else around. The guy recovered from the blow, but his head was slightly dented in which only served to fuel Roger's fear further, as well as this thing's inhuman fury. The guy let out another piercing scream before lunging once more teeth gnashing out of anger. Realizing the seriousness of what was happening before him, and the fact he was completely alone, Roger once more took off running down the hall.

This time his backpack stayed with him.

Beth yawned and turned to her friend, a girl about a year younger then herself with short,bobbed,black hair and a round face. Leaning again the post that led to the entrance of the biology hall she began to voice her concerns about what had transpired during her tutoring session, "I mean shit, I'm just…ugh, I go for tutoring not to be hit on by weird guys with dorky glasses." Beth reached into her pocket and pulled out a hair ribbon, quietly tying her wavy hair back in order to get it out of her eyes. Her friend merely shrugged and resumed sipping the ice tea she held tentatively with one hand, "I really don't think he's as bad as you think he is," She finally said in response pulling the straw away from her puckered lips and fixing her watery brown eyes upon Beth. "You are like, Sooo obsessed with him."

Beth did not like hearing that. In fact Beth didn't like what she was implying at all. She did not have an obsession with him, he just bothered her for reasons she couldn't quite vocalize. "It's not like that ANNE." She whined, glaring at the short girl in the yellow summer dress as if she had just uttered an insult against her mother. Anne merely gave Beth a look to show her that she had been teasing, "Yeah, Yeah, I heard the spiel before." Words that shut Beth up before she could go on her tangent. Anne really knew how to grind her gears in the worst ways. The fact she didn't trust Roger as far as she could throw him did not equal anything other then her mild contempt of the dork.

Changing the subject to avoid further teasing, Beth decided to settle on a current event that had been invading the news. "So, Uh, You hear about the flu going around? " she motioned with one hand at a CEDA poster that was displayed on the wall outside of the building warning about it. It was urging people to wash their hands, but knowing half the people here that was like asking a dog to suddenly act like a cat. Anne sipped her tea again and nodded before pulling away from the almost empty cup to respond. "Yeah, I totally did. I think Sammy caught it." Beth raised an eyebrow, "Samantha Hardwell?" Anne nodded in response to her inquiry. "How do you figure that?" Beth muttered turning her gaze to the exterior campus. There was an awful lot of people milling around on campus for a Saturday. "I heard her throwing up this morning while I was in the restroom." Anne replied.

At this Beth merely scoffed, ignoring whatever had her focus before, "You know how she's been boning Tommy Fink." Her gaze returned to Anne, "How do you know she hasn't knocked herself up?" The short girl merely shrugged and tossed her tea into a nearby trashcan. "I don't know what it could be, I don't think I care." Beth removed herself from the post she'd been leaning on and turned toward the biology building. Eh, diseases, smeishes. She figured it wasn't important. Sam's problems weren't her own, and she wasn't in the mood for gossip. "I don't think I care either, bitch is kinda skanky anyway." She dismissed the conversation with a wave of her hand. Anne giggled.

It was then at that moment that Roger came bursting through the doors as if that was a normal thing to do. Beth only barely managed to avoid the door as he ran out past them. What fucking nerve.

At first all her brain could think of was how amazed she was at at how fast he ran, but then she remembered he was on the track team and that was more or less what he did. Recovering from her shock she turned and glared at his retreating back, yelling at the top of her lungs "WHATS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?" At this Roger stopped in his tracks in the grass and turned around merely gesturing wildly with his hands as he tried to spit it out as coherently as possible.

Anne glanced at Beth with some look of concern before looking back at the door herself. "Well?" demanded Beth, motioning to the door. "You almost bashed my goddamn head in!" She hadn't noticed how flustered he looked. His hair was a mess, and his shoes covered in muck. He usually kept his t-shirt firmly tucked in his pants but now the edge of it had popped out and draped over one of the pockets of his jeans. Roger looked down to the ground before fixing his disheveled glasses. It was then that he finally managed to answer her.

"I don't know what it is I saw, but something happened." He lifted his backpack, and that's when she saw the blood that stained the cover. Confused she looked him over. It was clear he wasn't hurt. "Where did that come from?" She asked as Anne let out a concerned whimper. Roger had no answer, he didn't have time for one, because a look of fear spread on his face and he quickly pointed behind her.

There was her answer.

It happened in a second, She heard a monstrous squeal and heard Anne scream. She turned only to find her friend being attacked by a gray coloured man, his head bleeding from a large dented gash in his skull. Anne was trying in vain to push him off her but he quickly overpowered her. He had her tight in his grip, his teeth tearing and gnashing at her throat like a rabid animal. Spurts of crimson splattered the man's mouth, and dark gray dress shirt and hit the floor creating a small puddle at his feet. Anne's frantic screams turned into horrid gurgles as life slowly began to leave her small frame, her hands stopped fighting him as more blood pooled around them. The yellow of her summer dress turned a horrid shade of dark orange and it was then that it became apparent. She was dying.

Not even thinking, she watched as Roger rushed forward raising his bag over his head with what strength there was in his scrawny arms and began to beat the ever living shit out of the man. The…thing, man, creature whatever released Anne but by then Roger's actions had come a bit too late. Anne's body twitched and shuddered one last time before falling onto the pavement with a wet thud. Beth didn't know what to do. Her own body felt numb with confusion, shock, and utter horror. She froze like a deer in the headlights and watched as Roger mercilessly dropped the man who had attacked her friend. Beating his head in until it was nothing more then a splattered mess of skull and brain on the pavement. All she could do was remain frozen and watch.

What the hell did she just witness?