Infamous: Raising Hell

Trish was wary of me on the walk to the courtyards. She kept glancing at me, waiting for me to go full-on insane... To be honest, I was waiting for it, too...

The hospital, although it'd only been a week, was a sad state of disrepair. There was a rancid smell coming from a few of the rooms with closed doors, and the itch in my palms burned as I passed them, there were dead people in there...

There were burn marks on the walls from recent fires, and most of the flourescent lights didn't work. The ones the did flickered, and rained sparked at random intervals. Keeping your sick and dying in a place like this couldn't be good...

"Isn't there anywhere else?" I murmured, looking down, trying to keep the contents of my stomach in line when I noticed a pool of almost black crimson congealing underneath one of the doors.

"Anywhere else for what?"

"Anywhere else to care for the sick?"

"Yeah, there is. But all our medical supplies are here... If we even tried to relocate, the reapers would be all over us, taking our stuff, killing all of us, and we'd be worse off."

I looked away, and glanced out one of the windows. It overlooked the courtyard and parking area behind the hospital, and it was covered, in row after row of pearly white bodybags.

Trish stopped walking and paused near the windows, placing a hand against the sill. "We can't spare the manpower to get them to the cemetary across town. Most of them, were doctors."

"Let's go." I kept moving towards the exit.



The warm, whirlwind came up when I pushed open the back exit doors. It fluttered the hospital gown and robe, sending a swirl of wind into the lobby, fluttering meaningless documents on the receptionist's desk.

"Are you sure about this?" Trish called with uncertainty from behind me as I moved further out into the parking lot. There was a nervous twist of disease in my stomach, and it was pulling me towards the hundreds of corpses. I walked with a careful gait towards the nearest one, and carefully crouched in front of it.

Gravel and loose asphalt jabbed into my knees as I sat there, still as stone, holding my breath. The same rush of andrenaline I'd felt when burning returned to my hands, making them tingle in anticipation. In my mind, I was absolutely grossed out, and felt like I might puke soon if I didn't leave. But there was a curiosity to it, a feeling in my gut that just wanted to be sure.

I reached forward without really thinking it through, and grabbed the zipper, and slowly pulled it down. The sickeningly sweet smell of rigor mortis rose from the bag, but I didn't gag or hurl over like I expected, it didn't bother me, actually, and it was a scary thought.

I proceeded to pull down the zipper, revealing the stone cold, white face of a mid-twenty year old female. She had long, golden blonde hair, and sunken in cheek bones. Here eye sockets were tinted a nightmarish purple.

"What exactly are you planning on doing?" She asked from a few yards behind me. I glanced back at her, she held the neckline of her sweater up over her nose, a look of disgust on her face.

"I'm not sure." I replied, looking back at the body.

There was no pulse, no lovely color of life on her face, she was just a corpse. What was I doing out here? Examining bodies like a freak? Why did I feel like I needed to see all of them?

Another vision lashed at me, I saw vibrant, violent flames enveloping people, children and the elderly. Homes consumed in flames, so much loss... So much hatred... But behind it all, I could hear a heart beat... A faint, thudding heart beat.

Like last time, I took an aburpt breath when it ended, and it suddenly seemed so much clearer to me. Although, no, the vision itself hadn't told me what to do, I planned on doing what I felt like, with my instincts, I needed to do.

I pulled down the zipper further, and jumped back in surprise. The left side of her ribcage was illuminated, with what looked like a projection, an X-ray, it was a black heart. It didn't beat or thud, she didn't move or breathe, she was paralyzed in this permanent state of death.

I reached out with a shaking hand, my fingers extended hesitantly... I reached out to touch her upper ribs, gingerly pressing against the illuminated black heart...

A burst of pain ran up my arms, down my spine, across my shoulders, and resignated in my hands.

I screamed, not because of the shock or surprise, but I looked down at my hands. Some invisible current moved up them, the remaining fire scars bubbled and blistered, then turned into cold, perfectly smooth, white skin. The current worked it's way up my arms, across my shoulders like fire, consuming all the scorch marks.

But the most terrifying part wasn't that, there were two other things. My hands, black, thin, needlepoint veins trailed up them, curling around them, transforming them into webbed, permanently attacked gloves.

And last, but certainly not least, and most definitely the most pulse stopping thing of the experience - the girl. Her chest rose slowly with a deep, silent breath, her cheek bones became less prominent, a pink blush returned to them, and the purple shadows under her eyes retreated - and at last, her eyes flashed open, a piercing green.