Infectious Grass Variant No. 3
Don’t trust your family, they may be dead already…
“We have been receiving multiple reports of a kind of infection that has severe symptoms and has been putting humans into a mindless zombie-like state. This infection has four major stages, each increasing in pain and aggression. DO NOT ENGAGE, DO NOT FEED, DO NOT OFFER SHELTER.”
“What in the world is this?” Cyrus asked, puzzled at the strange menu item. “Grass seed and pea soup? Who’s eating grass?”
A waiter who overheard the commotion came over to see what was going on. “Ah,” the waiter said, ready to explain the new dish. “That is a pea soup with grass seeds in it!”
“Obviously, but why the grass?” Cyrus asked.
“Well,” the waiter said, “we discovered a new plant that looks like grass, and since it tastes terrific, we decided to pair it with the pea soup.”
The waiter was pleased with the way he worded it, but Cyrus wanted more.
“Tell me about it!” Cyrus angrily demanded.
“Well I don’t need to,” the waiter said as he pointed to the right, “look at the TV. I’ll change the channel to one that will explain everything for you.”
“WHAT IN THE WORLD IS ‘BOX NEWS’!?” Cyrus screamed, louder than ever. “I heard of Fox news, but BOX? Is it a Chinese knockoff?”
“What do you mean? It’s always Box News. Where did you get Fox News from?” the waiter said, now curious.
“You know what? Just change it already, I’m already not tipping you,” Cyrus said, now just mildly infuriated instead of outright exploding with anger.
“Welcome back to Box News! This is Aylinne Earnhart and Lorentz Johns…”
“Ok, I swear something is certainly off. Are they like wannabe doppelgängers? I could have sworn their names were Ainsley Erhardt and Lawrence Jones, not Aylinne and Lorentz,” Cyrus said, more confused than anything else.
“SHUT UP! I’M TRYING TO LISTEN TO WHAT THEY ARE SAYING!” a random person halfway across the restaurant screamed.
Right after, Lorentz begins by saying, “There's been recent mention of something that looks like grass but certainly isn’t. It looks awfully like both bottlebrush and the common lawn grass, but certainly isn't. Taking after its bottlebrush look, its new scientific name is Elymus Obscurus, meaning it's the same genus as bottlebrush, and obscurus, meaning hidden or unknown, because we know nothing about it.”
“Tell me about it,” Aylinne said, not even knowing this was what they were supposed to say.
“Sure!” Lorentz said, more than willing to explain what he found. “This was found by one of my friends, Cole Harper. He lives near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and works in biology, and stepped on it. There, he says it punctured through his shoe and right into his foot.”
“Ouch, that must suck,” Ayline said, cutting off Lorentz.
“Yeah, he also tasted it for some reason. He says it tastes a bit sweet and citrusy, but with a lot of earthy tones. He’s addicted. It even healed his foot like aloe vera. Maybe we should switch grass for its properties instead.”
“Maybe we should,” Aylinne says, cutting off Lorentz again.
Cyrus then asked, “Is this even grass? I doubt that’s grass, especially since it can penetrate half an inch of boot leather and skin.”
The waiter, not expecting this question, then replied, “No, it is not grass, but since it looks nearly identical to it, we call it a grass variant or GV No. 3. If you’d like, some people still call it by its Latin name.”
Cyrus wasn’t happy about it, so he just threw the menu at the waiter and told him to give him a short rib as takeout and left.
Once outside, the livid Cyrus began to aimlessly walk. For miles upon miles from any direction he looked, he only saw hard pouring rain and the pitch darkness of night with black stormy clouds all around. He looked back, hand entangled with the takeout he had and felt jealous of everyone inside, so happy, warm, and unaware of the dramatic weather outside.
“How ironic that I’m feeling dark and gloomy, just like the skies,” Cyrus muttered.
Looking to his left, he could vaguely make out a figure. Or was it two? One seemed to be standing, right hand holding a small pouch, the other in his thick black hoodie. It stared down into the other figure's eyes, begging on its knees for the pouch. It seemed to be a drug addict, desperately doing whatever he could for the bag of plant matter.
“Hey!” the standing figure called. “Do you want some, or are you just staring at me?”
Cyrus, in his already fuming mood, then pulled out a pocket knife.
“Stop your drug dealing business or I’ll call the cops without any hesitation!”
A child passing by, no older than seven saw what was going on and rushed away.
The standing figure dropped his original pouch for the kneeling figure to scramble for like a vulture and approached Cyrus, dagger in hand. Cyrus rushed at what he presumed to be the man underneath the sleek black hoodie, then faked a jab with his free arm, and aimed for punch with the same arm, which ended up slashing the figure's face. Then the knife fell, blood trailing, and landed far away. Cyrus went up to it, slashed the masked man’s face, arm, and nearly his neck, then walked away. After nearly 70 paces, he heard a cop car arrive. Sirens blared, guns pointed, and the orders to raise his hands were shouted. Cyrus rushed behind the restaurant he came from, and pulled out his weapon. A pistol. Three shots were fired at the officers, two landing, and then he vanished into the shadows.
“Where in the hell did that guy go!?” one of the officers cried.
“Narnia? I don’t know, man, our fellow officers are bleeding out and likely dead, and I can’t talk!”
“Did you at least get a description?”
“How would I if all of it happened so fast? Gunshots? Blood pouring and a Houdini wannabe? How can I keep track? And can you shut up for once in like seven years?”
“Fine, but I’m letting our chief know, this man is beyond menacing.”
. . .
As the world scrambled to grow more and more seeds, the grass naturally evolved and mutated to ensure its survival. Some regions even had new species of it. Some were tall and thin in dense forests, others camouflaged into its arid rocky surroundings.
The humans and their overwhelming greed kept farming, either way. Its mutation started modestly, with it developing capsaicin and providing a nice burn in the tongue and nose. But with more time came exponentially harsher consequences. Eventually, a defense mechanism was created in the grass’s cells, allowing it to transfer its seeds via the air and any physical contact. If touched, the seeds are immediately injected into the victim's bloodstream. Afterwards, the infection's devastating symptoms begin in stages.
Stage one is mild, with fever, shaking, anxiety, insomnia, confusion, and subtle pain in infected areas. Then the infection turns significantly more devastating in stage two with vomiting blood, lesions, swelling in places like the eyes, toes, fingers, and nose. This stage only lasts for ten minutes, which is also the total amount of time you have before the infection becomes irreversible. After those ten minutes, stage three begins. Blood vessels start bursting, and blood can start thickening in one location while drastically thinning in others. This stage is arguably the most painful for humans as their own cells either explode from within, or turn into sickle shapes, (aka sickle cell disease/anemia). By the end of stage 3, the victim is essentially dead; if not, the infection will convert all nearby cells into the virus itself (in stage 3 form) and have them travel throughout the bloodstream. Once the stage is over, the cells and viruses immediately mutate into stage 4 form. The host is dead, and the cells hijack the now dead brain to act like something similar to one of the two types of zombies.
The first type is deemed as the swarmers. These act as kamikazes, throwing themselves headfirst into anything to attack anything uninfected. They sprint, are hyper-aggressive, and have a hive mind, being capable of communication via any electromagnetic waves. The others are called commanders. When they realize they don’t have any swarmers to fight for them, they summon more. They are also eerily smart, able to stalk prey for days until they understand their routines, habits, and even way of speaking. When they begin to hunt, they learn to wear clothes, camouflage, and even speak the languages of the regions nearby. Once hunting—which is typically done solo—they wait for the perfect moment when they know the prey is alone, and claw at their flesh and eat while it’s still alone, adrenaline pumping. It’s also this stage when they begin to grow longer limbs, which become appendages. They are then taller, faster, and eventually, full-on quadrupeds.
The first instances of the zombies are weak, easily able to be taken down. But as time passed, they grew barbs, spikes, and even armor. The first to deal with the new variants was a poor group of kids in a school. Lockdown wasn’t enough as the threat didn’t come from outside—it came from inside. The nurse was found, seizuring, turning red, with lesions all over, the sight no kid should ever see.
…
“Mrs. Clark, I cut myself. Can I go to the nurse's office?” said Liam, a panicky, pale kid, who ran up to his third-grade teacher, Mrs. Clark. Mrs. Clark wasn’t the sharpest weed whacker in a shed, but she still got to him.
“Yeah, you cut the lines there, sorry about that, Liam. Why don’t I get you a band-aid now?”
Liam wasn’t having it. “No, I NEED to go to the nurse’s office!” Pouting and shouting.
Mrs. Clark, clearly not wanting to deal with him, just sighed and said, “Sure, but take a pass, please?”
After around three minutes, Liam rushed back to Mrs. Clark’s classroom, panicking out his mind and still bleeding.
Liam barged into the class, disrupting everyone. “Mrs. Clark! Mrs. Clark! Something’s happening to Mrs. Olivia!”
Mrs. Clark, clearly concerned, tried to calm down the situation. “What happened? What is she doing?”
Liam, still panicking and screaming, shouted across the room, “She's shaking on the ground and not talking! Her bones are also making a weird sound, and she’s throwing up blood everywhere!”
Mrs. Clark, now frightened by the disturbing details Liam provided, screamed, “WHAT!? Susie, can you run to the nurse to check up on her? I’ll go to the front office and tell them what’s happening.”
Susie, who was completely caught off guard, reflexively said, “OK! Let’s go!”
Mrs. Clark then shouted back, “Susie, run over there! Come on! Time is ticking, and grass around the world is growing!”
Susie, completely caught off guard again, then apologized.
As the two split, Susie saw what was happening to Mrs. Olivia and locked the door, then ran back to the class. Mrs. Clark, on the other hand, took her time explaining what’s going on, getting infected herself, and spreading it to others. Eventually, the school ushered everyone back to class and entered lockdown. Mrs. Clark, now in her class, instantly began to barricade the class according to protocol, but something bad soon started.
Marcos, the frantic child in the bunch, nervously said to his teacher, “Mrs. Clark… I think I might have a fever…”
Instinctively, fiercely and immediately, Mrs. Clark shouted, “What… No… Go to the corner right now! For everyone’s safety!”
Marcos looked at the corner, and in rebellion and fear said, “But it’s dark there…”
Mrs. Clark shouted again, “I don’t care! Just go, please!” completely disregarding Marcos’s emotions.
Marcos apologized, and Mrs. Clark said, “Susie and Liam, go to the corner with Marcos!”
Mrs. Clark then began to calm down and announced, “Alright, everyone else, please go to this side of the room away from Marcos, Liam, and Susie! And help me barricade!”
A short while later, Susie, now concerned, said to Mrs. Clark, “What's happening to Liam?”
Mrs. Clark, now confused, turned around to look and said, “What? Can you say that a bit louder?”
Susie, now screaming, shouted across the room, “WHAT’S HAPPENING TO LIAM?! IT’S SCARING ME!”
Mrs. Clark took a deep breath. “Can you move him a bit forward? Just so I can see what's happening?”
Susie shoves Liam three feet forward in disgust.
Mrs. Clark, now scared, said, “Oh no…” scaring Susie and Marcus, who in response asked, “What is it?”
Mrs. Clark muttered under her breath, “He’s infected… The shaking, the panic in his eyes… He’s infected…”
Mrs. Clark tried to calm the class down by saying, “It means he’s a bit sick. Keep him away from you two! And make sure to…”
A deafening screech coming from the direction of the nurse's office boomed through the dark hallways of the school.
Half the class then screamed, “AHH! WHAT WAS THAT?!” while the other half huddled in a corner, too scared to move.
Mrs. Clark, now nervous, silently told the class, “Guys, stay quiet and we’ll be safe, please…”
Susie, starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together, then said, “Mrs. Clark… will we… die?”
Mrs Clark, thinking of the inevitable, quietly said, “I hope not, but chances are, we might…”
Susie interrupts Mrs. Clark broke the silence by saying, “Please, I don’t want to! Aren’t you supposed to protect us?”
Another deafening screech came from the hallway, significantly closer than before, followed by a class next door screaming for their lives. The screams were then replaced with blood-curdling cries for help.
Marcos, now panicking out of his mind, shouted at the top of his lungs, “WHAT'S GOING ON!?”
Mrs. Clark, clearly pissed and trying to stay anonymous, sternly told him, “SHUT UP! PLEASE!”
Liam, still shaking, then silently said, “You… can’t say… that.”
Susie, reading the room, then whispered, “Shouldn’t you, too?”
Mrs Clark, still pissed just hissed, “I don’t care, just stay QUIET!”
Three knocks were then heard from the door, followed by increasingly aggressive scratches and punches.
Susie screamed, “WHAT IS THA…?” Only to be interrupted by Mrs. Clark stares daggers into her soul and angrily whispers, “SHUT UP!”
Susie wasn’t having it and stood and began running. “NO! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” she screamed at Mrs. Clark.
By now mutated Mrs. Olivia then broke down the door, staring into the souls of each child.
Susie, now hopeful in everyone's safety, gleefully said, “Mrs. Olivia? Did… did you kill the monster? WE’RE SAFE!”
Mrs. Clark, realizing Susie’s innocence, said, “Susie… that is the monster… please god… save us from thi…”
Before Mrs. Clark was able to finish her final prayer, the former Mrs. Olivia, now a zombified brute, dove headlong into the class, aiming for Mrs. Clark. The class then naturally began screaming and running around, but that only got the attention of the beast, who ended up mowing down the class like a lawn. Leaving behind nothing but a bloody, mangled mess in a third-grade classroom, the beast charged into the next one.
…
The lights from a TV flashed across an abandoned, dilapidated house as some kids came by. One of the kids screamed.
“Jackson! Let’s go over and see what it says!” Randy said, adrenaline coursing through his blood.
“I dunno man, it looks sketchy,” Jackson said, fearful it was a prank. “What if it is a trap? What if a creepy old drug dealer is behind it and sticks us?”
“Jackson, that’s so oddly specific. Plus, I doubt anyone is behind it,” Randy yelled, shaking the entire home.
“We interrupt our programming at the request of the White House,” boomed from the TV through the ghostly halls of the house. “This is the Emergency Alert System. All normal programming has been discontinued during this emergency. This is not a test. Please stand by… Please sta…”
“Jackson…” Randy said, scared for his life. “Please, for the love of god, tell me that's not fake.”
“I… I think it’s… real…” Jackson said, his mouth quivering.
“We have been receiving multiple reports of a kind of infection that has severe symptoms and has been putting humans into a mindless zombie-like state. This infection has four major stages, each increasing in pain and aggression. DO NOT ENGAGE, DO NOT FEED, DO NOT OFFER SHELTER. Please report them ASAP to either the National Infection Response Division (NIRD), Office of Public Biohazard Containment (OPBC), or Foundation of Biohazard Control and Entity Research (FBCER). DELTA Force A, Delta Force B, Gamma Force C6, or Epsilon Unit 7S will be on high alert and available when any infected are reported.”
“Randy, please… please tell me you’re not pranking me…” Jackson said, fearful for his life.
“Well, I may have soiled my pants, so I sure as hell am not,” Randy reluctantly said, ready to sprint out of the house.
“Is that the smell? Get away from me!” Jackson said, disgusted.
The TV grew blue with the White House logo again. “If you know anyone who may be infected, whether it's a family member, a friend, or a stranger, they are biologically not human anymore. In this case, you need to evacuate the infected within a 200-meter radius. If you find yourself dealing with a stage four infected, find the nearest weapon and be ready to attack.
These are incredibly hostile and can easily withstand heavy blows. They are also incredibly hard to take down, so be ready with any firearms and fire directly at the site of infection. This is the only currently-known way to neutralize the target, but the caliber most heavily recommended is a .338 Lapua Magnum. Anything smaller only stuns, and anything larger always works.”
“Ok, Jackson,” Randy said, trying to stay calm, “let's run the hell out of here!”
Before Jackson could respond, the TV boomed again. But instead of the EAS alert, it had two people, presumably scientists, having a conversation with US President Darnell J. Obane.
“We’ve been researching what we could with what little time we had when the reports came in,” researcher A said. “It's getting increasingly harder and harder to kill them!”
“Well, that's why I think there's only one thing to do,” President Obane said, “cleansing the country of the contaminated. We may also just cut off telephone lines so they are used only for absolute emergencies, not including when someone becomes infected.”
“Isn’t that a bit over dramatic and outrageous? And maybe too similar in bad historical contexts?” Researcher B said.
“It's the best we can do, right? They are extremely aggressive, hard to contain or neutralize, and difficult to study,” President Obane said, confident that nothing could go wrong. “Say, can you tell me how it spreads?”
“Yeah sure,” Researcher A said, “the virus spreads either via airborne, or by touching that newly discovered grass. We thought at first it was harmless, but it turns out it isn’t. Once infected, there's almost no way to cure it.”
Researcher B cut A off. “You know, this is strange, but you know tourettes syndrome, right? It's a bit like that too recently. We noticed that if you make eye contact with an infected person, it somehow also infects you. Strangely, we are looking into it.”
Researcher A then cuts off B, “What? Since when?”
Researcher B then tries to calmly respond, “Since approximately 76 hours and 43 minutes ago. The virus is mutating fast.”
President Obane then rushes to say, “Well, it’s called GV or something like that, right? Everyone will refer to it like that from now on! People should also stay inside until told, lock all doors, and close window blinds to avoid eye contact.”
Researcher B jumped in, “Aren’t you being like a dictator now?”
President Obane, “No, not at all! You know what? Security! Arrest him!”
“Ok, Randy, I don’t wanna watch this drama, let's run outta here!” Jackson screamed, terrified for his life.
“No kidding! Wait… what's that?” Randy said, voice dropping as he realized what he was looking at.
…
Two kids were found dead in an abandoned home. It is suspected that a swarmer attacked them while they were vulnerable in the living room. Their bodies were horrifically mutilated and misfigured, almost to the point of being unrecognizable. A swarmer was also hunted down, and inside its stomach was a half-digested skull of what is suspected to be the younger of the two kids, Jackson Venswick.
As soon as an investigation of the double juvenile homicide was set in place, the public immediately panicked as everyone realized just how big a threat the infected were. Soon, everyone began to swarm indoors, hoard anything they could use to survive for years, and stock up on guns, shelters, and bullets. Some even began concocting ways to test if they were infected or not. But as time passed, the population shrank to a mere fraction of what it was before. Turns out, the zombies learned to behave more and more like humans. Some even barge into homes to begin killing and spreading their disease.
Eventually, they adapted further to kill more and more. The zombies grew long spikes along their backs, which shoot spores into the air. This is one of the newer ways the species learned to grow more of the host grass, and it also serves as a way to infect more. Now, humans were forced to install government-issued AC systems to avoid inhaling the deadly viruses. The GV, however, mutated again to be able to counteract the AC systems, compromising the lives of everyone living in homes.
A few months went by, and people began to hear birds screeching and going insane. It turns out the GV also managed to affect avians and some mammals, causing their bodies to create high-pitched screeches as a final cry for help. The noise damaged people’s cochleas, which spread to the brain and led to more people going outside. Upon realizing this, the government ordered everyone to get noise-cancelling headphones and to lock themselves in a room and throw away the key. Everyone was outraged, but there was nothing to do. No way to protest, no freedom, and the permanent risk of a slow and painful death.
…
Tape #001
Date: 11/5/2007
Time: 10:23 AM
Location: Second-story bedroom
Hello? Hello? Can this metal piece of junk hear me?
Oh yeah, it does. I felt like I’ve been going insane recently. I just heard people saying my name, but looking out my window, I see nothing but the undead outside, roaming around, screeching at me, and jumping into the moat I dug around my house.
I dunno man, where am I gonna get food now? I’m rationing my last stock, which should last at least another three days, but then what? Going out is risky, and I raided everything in a two-mile radius. These things keep evolving, and the grass outside is overgrown. Some might even be the stuff the waiter showed me. Worse is the boredom; there's literally nothing to do. I was so dumb, I didn’t stock up on games or any form of entertainment. All I got now is a brick to throw around and a pan I could fill with oil, set on fire, and then throw at the zombies.
Wait, what's that sound on my door? I swear, if they made it here already, I’m filling all of the ones close by with lead. Be back later, my dear cassette.
[END OF LOG]
Tape #006
Date: 11/17/2007
Time: 7:43 PM
Location: Bedroom, lying on the bed
Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Oh, nice, it does.
That's like my routine now, and it is so fun! Might mix it up now and then. I can’t sleep, though, the birds outside screech, and I feel like I’m going insane for the next four hours after hearing it. I just wanna go outside and shoot the darn bastards. But no, the government had to strongly recommend not going out, or I would inhale the stupid virus. At this point, I’m not even sure if anyone else is alive. I could just go out by myself if I wanted to. Maybe I should! Wait, no, gotta get my gas mask first. And suit up. And get my guns and explosives.
[shuffling]
[Static intensifies]
[END OF LOG]
Tape #008
Date: 11/17/2007
Time: 9:12 PM
Location: Living room, lying on the floor
Hello? It's Cyrus… Help me…
I uh… I might be… infected. I vaguely remember the symptoms of each stage. Maybe I’m in stage two. I…I’m just shaking… on the ground, vomiting blood, and getting cuts from even rubbing against the floor. When am I going to die? Can it just come sooner? I wish it did. I can barely even move anymore… and everything hurts. Someone… Just kill me… Please…
[Screams intensify as Cyrus transitions into stage three]
[END OF LOG]
Tape #009
Date: 11/17/2007
Time: 10:16 PM
Location: Living room, lying on the floor
…help…
…what's at… the door? No…
…it's… a commander…
[door breaks down]
Come on… kill me… already! PLEASE!
[unintelligible screams]
Everything is now silent except for the sound of the now-dead Cyrus’s bones being crushed.
[battery alert, 5%]
[static intensifies]
[END OF LOG]
