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Let Me Tell You About Zombies...


Jesus, did people love zombies for a while. Something about hordes of mindless, shambling corpses moaning in the darkness just appealed to the general public. Maybe it was because people saw them as a threat, but not an unbeatable one. Like, they could envision themselves as a hero of sorts gathering a group of people and asserting their self-importance which they lacked in day to day life. I don’t know.

I do know we were wrong. That virus everybody was so interested in was a lot smarter than we gave it credit for. It didn’t want an army of mindless drones passing it along. No, it wanted people for what we treasure most about our species: intelligence. It wanted our cunning, our deceit, our selfishness. The effect of the virus was surprisingly and elegantly simplistic, leaching off of one of our biggest flaws to further its own propagation. It gave us an addiction.

The first patients didn’t even realize what was wrong with them. The media thought it was some new widespread fetish brought about by moral decay. People would bite one another and feel intense euphoria. It was the darndest thing. Then, people began to worry as “regular biters” discovered they could no longer get off munching one another. People were involuntarily bitten and a whole string of lawsuits followed as one would expect. Those didn’t really hold up in court though once the “victim” became a biter as well. When biting became illegal though… that’s when shit hit the fan.

Like any good addiction, people deprived of this vice went into withdrawal. Rehab centers were established but they couldn’t do shit. This wasn’t a normal addiction where the addict thought they needed a hit. No. These people literally NEEDED to bite the uninfected. People began dropping dead from their withdrawal symptoms. Naturally, this caused panic. Panic caused violence. Violence caused governmental action.

A worldwide quarantine of sorts was put into place. Anybody infected had to be contained or killed, no exception. This is probably where the story ends if we had been dealing with hollywood zombies. The military sweeps in, takes charge and saves everyone’s collective ass. However, people find a way. Some faked lab results, a misplaced sample here, a clerical error there, presto-changeo the rich and powerful were no longer classified as infected. The general public thinks all's well and everyone can breathe a sigh of relief in the aftermath of one of the worst pandemics in human history. We here in the hospitals know otherwise. We get the stray case of infection from time to time and we get a little bonus for flubbing the records.

You for example, Mr. Casey. Looks like you’ve been in a coma for quite a while. Car crash, no next of kin, no family, no visitors. Oh, what’s this?

Crunch

Seems you have traces of the infection in your bloodstream. I’m afraid that warrants a lethal injection sir. I’m sorry, but it’s for the good of the world.

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source: by reddit user LorewalkerJoe via reddit.com/r/ShortScaryStories

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