Henry gets up with a big jerk, his heart pumping wildly and sweat running down his face, accumulating on his chin where it slowly drips into his lap. He puts a hand up to his head and closes his eyes, as a sharp pain emerges from the sudden movement. He vaguely remembers another doctor, a woman, approaching him from his left side, injecting him with something, likely a sedative of some sort. Henry opens his eyes again, and immediately notices the black veins on his right arm. He raises both his arms in front of him to look at it, but curiously, his left arm looks completely normal. He rubs his eyes, but nothing changes. Was that a normal thing for zombies? He had thought it would be all the veins and blood that turned black. He looks around the room.It's white like the one he had been in previously, and barren except for a small bed in the left corner behind him, and a toilet and sink to his right behind him. There's also a camera placed in each corner, and no visible doors in the room. There are no mirrors or windows, but a small vent placed behind the camera above the toilet and a big white light in the middle of the room. Henry slowly gets up from the floor, and walks over to the sink, his head still pounding, but his pulse slowing down, as he becomes more awake and relaxed. He turns on the tap, and throws some water in his face, the cold water soothing the burning sensation he had all over his body. After doing so a few times he bends down to drink some as well. He looks around the room again, and decides to move over to the bed, where he sits down, and just stares at the wall opposite him.

  His thoughts wander to the encounter with the zombie. How he had been completely helpless against it. Henry was of average height, but well built, with broad shoulders and a strong physique. He'd been deployed twice in Afghanistan as a trained sniper, but had always had a talent for combat in general. Even so, nothing he had experienced had come close to the encounter with that zombie. Obviously Henry had seen and heard about zombies in the news, back when they were still spreading across the globe, but he could never have imagined how strong they really were. It made him wonder how humanity won in the first place. His thoughts jumble together, one thought replacing the next in rapid succession. How did the zombie get there? Where was it now? Where was Henry? How was he alive? What did it even mean to become a zombie? He didn't feel any different.

  It takes a few minutes to calm the multitude of raging thoughts inside his head, just trying to process what happened. It had been just another day, nothing new, nothing different, nothing strange. How had it turned into this, how was a zombie even still alive, weren't they supposed to be all gone?

  A small *click* can be heard, and part of the wall, opposite the bed and toilet opens up to reveal a door, perfectly blended into the wall until now. On the other side of the door is two soldiers, who step into the room, followed by a man in a lab coat. Henry recognises the man as the one who drew his blood, even though the man had a mask on at the time. He is tall and slim, with well kept, brown hair and no beard. Under the lab coat he is wearing a blue shirt, and brown pants. The soldiers on either side of him are wearing armor covering their whole body, including their faces. The masks almost resembling something out of star wars. The armor is black at the seams with grey padding on the chest, stomach, shoulders, elbows and knees, including many other smaller places.

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  "Where am i?" Henry asks in a raspy voice. He puts a hand up to his throat, shivering as he remembers his throat practically being torn out. Seemed like it shouldn't be possible for him to speak at all, after what had happened. The man in the lab coat keeps staring at Henry, looking him up and down, as if examining him. It's a cold stare, enough to make Henry uncomfortable. Henry is just about to ask again when the man interrupts him.

  "You're at a facility at EVO Future". he pauses, continuing to search every inch of Henry, he seems to take notice of the arms, making Henry wonder if the missing black veins on his left arm was abnormal after all.

  "We will take care of you here. I'm Adam, the head of this facility, and the man who will take lead in your treatment". There doesn't seem to be any malice coming from Adam, but one word he had said, caught Henry's attention.

  "Treatment? You mean there's a cure?" Henry straightens his back, some life returning to his green eyes at the prospect. Adam grimaces, looking away from Henry briefly before meeting his eyes. Henry's hopes plummet before Adam even says it.

  "No, that was poorly formulated by me, sorry. We will be doing some procedures that will research your infection, hopefully to find a cure at some point in the future". The future. The word stuck in Henry's head, echoing back and forth, until it lost all meaning. Adam seems to notice, as he starts talking again.

  "I'm sorry, we don't know when that will be, but your cooperation will help immensely". He gestures around the room, bringing attention to the lackluster surroundings of the room.

  "I know things are moving fast, but the virus will be taking full effect within the next 48 hours, and so we'd like to get as much done before," he pauses again, trying to find the right words.

  "before you become unruly", he finishes. Henry, looks up at Adam.

  "Unruly?" Henry asks, a hint of fear in his voice. The doctor looks around the room as he tries to formulate a response.

  "I'm sure you know that zombies have a certain.. urge, to kill. You don't feel it yet, but soon, you will have a hard time looking at another human being without thinking about murdering that person". Adam's response is calm and controlled, clearly he had experience with the virus and its effects. Henry looks down at his hands and arms. The urge to kill. He couldn't even begin to imagine how that would feel, how a feeling like that would somehow implant itself into him. His life was truly over. It seemed to finally sink in, that this was truly the end of his life. Even if he was still alive, he'd never be able to go anywhere again, doomed to rot in this cell for a few years before his brain had been completely consumed by the virus coursing through his veins.

  "We will let you rest a short while longer, then another doctor, Emma, will have a talk with you about the future procedures, first though, i'd like to ask your name, so we can run some medical checks, blood type and the like". Henry meets Adam's eyes. Suddenly the eyes look less calm, and more emotionless. Henry has a hard time even saying anything, his mind drawing a complete blank. He shakes his head, and finally manages to croak his name with a weak voice, one he can barely recognize as his own.

  "Henry Rush"