Chapter 1: Prologue

Chime… chime… chime… The heart monitor beeped, a steady, annoying rhythm in the too-bright room. I blinked, staring up at the plain white ceiling. Then I saw them – a circle of doctors in full hazmat gear, looking down at me like I was some kind of exhibit.

White. That was all I'd seen for three months. Hospital rooms, operating theaters – a world bleached of color. Except for some flowers someone left on the windowsill, and the bright red blood. My blood.

“Can we stop the bleeding?” The voice was tight, nervous. English. He was one of the European docs, blond hair, blue eyes. I knew the drill. Same questions, day in, day out.

Not all of them were European. Under those suits, they were from all over. The best of the best, supposedly. Big shots in medicine. Most of them were old, some with grey hair, definitely past their prime. This wasn't just any hospital visit; it was like a global summit of doctors. The junior ones weren't even allowed in, just had to watch through the glass.

We'd already been through one nasty pandemic this century. Left everyone shaken. Doctors swore they’d never be caught off guard again. Famous last words. Because not long after, this new thing showed up. No one knew where it came from, what it did, or how to fix it. Something brand new, and terrifying.

Luckily, after the last one, people reacted fast. It hit a country that was super strict about this stuff, so they managed to lock it down. For a while, anyway. But this plague… it was just so weird. So dangerous. Everyone who knew about it was terrified. They said we’d dodged a bullet, that if it had really spread… well, no one wanted to think about that.

So now, doctors from all over the world were here, poking and prodding the few of us who’d caught it. Trying to figure this thing out before it came back with a vengeance. They still hadn't found what caused it. It was like the disease just appeared out of nowhere. And who knew if it would pop up again?

Rumor had it I was Patient Zero. The first one. Or at least, the earliest they could find. They grilled me endlessly, picked apart my life, who I saw, where I went. But they still had no clue where this damn sickness came from.

Believe me, if I knew, I'd tell them. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Dying without knowing… that’s a special kind of hell.

I saw the pity in their eyes. Young guy, good future ahead, blah blah blah. Now, caught by this… monster. And they all knew I was a goner.

Click. The door hissed open. Another doctor rushed in, whispering urgently in Chinese. “Patients Two and Eighteen are gone. Five and Eight… getting worse. Fast.”

You could feel the mood in the room drop. Another day, more dead. They hadn't saved anyone. Didn't understand this thing at all. Frustration was written all over their faces. Like they were fighting a ghost, and losing badly. We were dying off, and they couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

Vaccines, miracle drugs, experimental stuff – nothing worked. It was like this disease was laughing at modern science, at all these geniuses. Meanwhile, the news kept spinning stories about how everything was under control, a cure was just around the corner. Yeah, right. What a joke.

Maybe when we were all dead, they’d announce humanity had beaten another big bad disease. But these doctors, the ones who saw it all? They'd know it was a lie.

I watched them huddle, thinking, frowning, whispering. Then it hit me – that pain. Sharp, cold, like something clawing its way out. My whole body screamed.

“Ngaaarrh!” The scream ripped out of me. Couldn't help it. The doctors jumped. Monitors went crazy, beeping like mad. I started shaking, thrashing like a fish on a line, but the straps held me down tight.

“It’s getting worse!” one of the older docs yelled, his voice cracking. “Heart rate spiking! Get the sedatives!” Too late, someone was already there with a needle.

No nurses around. Just doctors, grim-faced and all business. They moved fast, like a well-oiled machine, the top surgeons getting ready to cut me open. To see the horror show inside.

“Not enough! Double the dose! Painkillers! Blood! Ventilator!” More shouts. Another needle jabbed into me. Useless. I could feel them inside – tiny things, digging, squirming, ripping me apart. God, I just wanted it to end.

I kept staring at the screen on the wall. Didn't look away, not even when they shoved the respirator on me, not even when I felt the scalpel cut into my chest. It was one of those fancy new scanners, showing my blood flow in real time. But they weren't just checking my circulation. They were watching my veins… go crazy.

And what I saw on that screen… it was a nightmare. My veins, usually just lines on a map, were alive. Twisting, pulsing, like they had a mind of their own. Crawling like spiders. Some were even starting to push out of my skin.

“Patient entering Stage Three! Evacuate! All personnel, evacuate now!” The announcement blasted from the speakers, over and over. The foreign doctors didn't need telling twice. They dropped their tools and ran, their faces grim. They knew what was coming.

My local doctors, after one last useless try, just turned and left, defeated. That was it. I was officially on my own with this… thing.

But one guy stayed behind, the doctor who’d been with me from the start. He hesitated, then came back to my bed. “Anything… you want to say?” His voice was thick, like he was about to cry. Last words? I’d written those ages ago. What was the point now?

The drugs were finally kicking in, I guess. The pain faded, replaced by a cold numbness. I just watched, kind of detached, as blood started spurting from all over me, like a broken sprinkler. It took everything I had, but I managed to speak. “Kill me,” I croaked. “Don’t let me turn into… that monster!”

“I…” He actually flinched, his face twisted in pain. “Sorry. I can’t.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” I yelled, desperate. “Go! Get out of here! Before it’s too late!” I could feel it inside me, whatever it was, coiling, ready to explode.

Then guards in hazmat suits rushed in. They grabbed the doctor and dragged him out, him stumbling all the way. And then I was alone. Just me, the fading beep of the monitor, and that insane, growing map of my veins on the screen, showing me exactly how I was going to die.

In the last moment, when everything went bright, I saw them. My veins, twisted into red, snake-like things, bursting out of me. They writhed in the air, like they were dancing, spraying blood everywhere, like a sick celebration of being born.

And then… I was gone. Faded into nothing.