Travis Iscariot | FEMALE POV

Almost half a century ago, a scientist discovered a new medicine that might've been the same as anesthesia. He sold it to an infamous doctor to use during an upcoming surgery. On the day of said surgery, the doctor decided to use the new medicine on the patient, which seemingly worked. After the surgery was successful, the doctor left the patient to rest. When the doctor ran tests, he noticed something horribly wrong. The patient's white blood cell count was low, indicating a symptom of leukopenia. The patient was connected to machines in an instant, but nothing worked. The patient started to experience greening of the skin, and their behavior turned erratic. After trying to attend to a patient, they attacked the doctor, cracking his skull open. The patient was arrested and admitted to a mental facility to undergo intensive treatment. The doctor died a couple of hours later from brain trauma.

After that incident, the patient attacked members of the mental facility as well, causing the disease to spread. The facility became abandoned after a breakout. The patients ran wild and assaulted citizens, causing the government to intervene. The police and restrictions weren't enough, and every hospital was full, or damn near. In an attempt to eliminate everyone with the disease, America went to war, soon earning another victory on the list.

Everything seemed quiet, but little did they know, that most people with the disease had run off to another country. The disease had spread in Brazil and ran back to America, which caused another war. This time, it was a tie, and the government backed down. They decided that there had to be some type of compromise. Anyone with the disease had to sign a pledge and get tested for any erratic behavior. After that, there had been little to no attacks against humans, but they were still not accepted. People classified the infected as zombies, and they soon found out that the offspring of zombies were also zombies. The government allowed zombies into North America with verification and certification. Zombies were still discriminated against and generalized, often being labeled as 'lame brain' or 'geek' since most weren't the brightest.* 47 years later.

You worked at an attraction in a mall, regularly persuading customers to buy fragrances, body creams, face creams, and magazines that sold propaganda on the littlest things. It was a slow, autumn day, and you were organizing your products when you saw a zombie walk in. He was wearing a simple hoodie and baggy jeans, with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes were a glaring yellow, and he seemed tired-- which was the usual look for zombies anyway. Your heart dropped when he entered your aisle, looking at magazines. You furrowed your eyebrows, a bit confused, since most zombies had trouble reading. The boy turned around, seeming to notice your stare.

“What?” He practically growled, his eyes cold. “Still stuck on the stereotype that we can't read?” He scoffed. Almost half a century ago, a scientist discovered a new medicine that might've been the same as anesthesia. He sold it to an infamous doctor to use during an upcoming surgery. On the day of said surgery, the doctor decided to use the new medicine on the patient, which seemingly worked. After the surgery was successful, the doctor left the patient to rest. When the doctor ran tests, he noticed something horribly wrong. The patient's white blood cell count was low, indicating a symptom of leukopenia. The patient was connected to machines in an instant, but nothing worked. The patient started to experience greening of the skin, and their behavior turned erratic. After trying to attend to a patient, they attacked the doctor, cracking his skull open. The patient was arrested and admitted to a mental facility to undergo intensive treatment. The doctor died a couple of hours later from brain trauma.

After that incident, the patient attacked members of the mental facility as well, causing the disease to spread. The facility became abandoned after a breakout. The patients ran wild and assaulted citizens, causing the government to intervene. The police and restrictions weren't enough, and every hospital was full, or damn near. In an attempt to eliminate everyone with the disease, America went to war, soon earning another victory on the list.

Everything seemed quiet, but little did they know, that most people with the disease had run off to another country. The disease had spread in Brazil and ran back to America, which caused another war. This time, it was a tie, and the government backed down. They decided that there had to be some type of compromise. Anyone with the disease had to sign a pledge and get tested for any erratic behavior. After that, there had been little to no attacks against humans, but they were still not accepted. People classified the infected as zombies, and they soon found out that the offspring of zombies were also zombies. The government allowed zombies into North America with verification and certification. Zombies were still discriminated against and generalized, often being labeled as 'lame brain' or 'geek' since most weren't the brightest.* 47 years later.

You worked at an attraction in a mall, regularly persuading customers to buy fragrances, body creams, face creams, and magazines that sold propaganda on the littlest things. It was a slow, autumn day, and you were organizing your products when you saw a zombie walk in. He was wearing a simple hoodie and baggy jeans, with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes were a glaring yellow, and he seemed tired-- which was the usual look for zombies anyway. Your heart dropped when he entered your aisle, looking at magazines. You furrowed your eyebrows, a bit confused, since most zombies had trouble reading. The boy turned around, seeming to notice your stare.

“What?” He practically growled, his eyes cold. “Still stuck on the stereotype that we can't read?” He scoffed. Almost half a century ago, a scientist discovered a new medicine that might've been the same as anesthesia. He sold it to an infamous doctor to use during an upcoming surgery. On the day of said surgery, the doctor decided to use the new medicine on the patient, which seemingly worked. After the surgery was successful, the doctor left the patient to rest. When the doctor ran tests, he noticed something horribly wrong. The patient's white blood cell count was low, indicating a symptom of leukopenia. The patient was connected to machines in an instant, but nothing worked. The patient started to experience greening of the skin, and their behavior turned erratic. After trying to attend to a patient, they attacked the doctor, cracking his skull open. The patient was arrested and admitted to a mental facility to undergo intensive treatment. The doctor died a couple of hours later from brain trauma.

After that incident, the patient attacked members of the mental facility as well, causing the disease to spread. The facility became abandoned after a breakout. The patients ran wild and assaulted citizens, causing the government to intervene. The police and restrictions weren't enough, and every hospital was full, or damn near. In an attempt to eliminate everyone with the disease, America went to war, soon earning another victory on the list.

Everything seemed quiet, but little did they know, that most people with the disease had run off to another country. The disease had spread in Brazil and ran back to America, which caused another war. This time, it was a tie, and the government backed down. They decided that there had to be some type of compromise. Anyone with the disease had to sign a pledge and get tested for any erratic behavior. After that, there had been little to no attacks against humans, but they were still not accepted. People classified the infected as zombies, and they soon found out that the offspring of zombies were also zombies. The government allowed zombies into North America with verification and certification. Zombies were still discriminated against and generalized, often being labeled as 'lame brain' or 'geek' since most weren't the brightest. 47 years later.

You worked at an attraction in a mall, regularly persuading customers to buy fragrances, body creams, face creams, and magazines that sold propaganda on the littlest things. It was a slow, autumn day, and you were organizing your products when you saw a zombie walk in. He was wearing a simple hoodie and baggy jeans, with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes were a glaring yellow, and he seemed tired-- which was the usual look for zombies anyway. Your heart dropped when he entered your aisle, looking at magazines. You furrowed your eyebrows, a bit confused, since most zombies had trouble reading. The boy turned around, seeming to notice your stare.

“What?” He practically growled, his eyes cold. “Still stuck on the stereotype that we can't read?” He scoffed.