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Doomsday Aftermath
墨書 Inktalez
"Don't come over! Don't come over!" I jolted awake from the nightmare, cold sweat soaking my back, my heart pounding as if it would burst from my chest.
The surroundings were dim, with only the emergency light flickering an eerie green in the corner. I frantically groped for weapons nearby: a flashlight, a baseball bat, and a stolen scalpel—my only possessions.
Ever since that damned plague broke out three months ago, I had hidden myself in the underground laboratory of the school, imprisoning myself in this cramped and chilly space. As a top student at medical school, I should have bravely stood on the front lines of the fight against the epidemic. But when I witnessed the horrifying sight of an Infected Person with my own eyes, fear consumed my entire mind.
The gut-wrenching screams, the blood-red eyes, and the savage instinct to bite anyone in sight—these were no longer humans but rather demons crawling out of hell.
No, I am not a coward; I just need more time to prepare and wait for the right moment to strike. With my medical background and the experimental equipment at hand, I could surely develop a cure for the virus and become humanity's savior. Yet reality was harsh; three months had passed, and aside from turning myself into a standard case of neurosis, I had achieved nothing.
Oh right, I almost forgot to introduce myself. My name is Matthew Wright. I'm 26 years old and currently pursuing a Ph.D. in virology at Harvard Medical School. If it weren't for this sudden catastrophe, I should be burning the midnight oil in the lab, working alongside my mentor to tackle the structure of the HIV virus. Speaking of my mentor, Professor William is a towering figure in today's medical field. His vast knowledge and exemplary character have guided countless students like me. I've always regarded him as a role model and a beacon of inspiration.
Thinking about this brought a pang of sorrow to my heart. I wondered how Professor William was doing now. Had he also fallen victim to the virus like so many others? Or had he managed to evade this disaster with his exceptional medical skills and meticulous mind?
Sighing, I realized how selfish I was; in such dire times, I was still preoccupied with personal feelings.
Dragging my weary body to the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face. The reflection in the mirror showed a gaunt figure with stubble and sunken eyes deep within dark circles—it was like looking at a stranger.
"Matthew, look at what you've become," I mocked myself. If Mom saw me now, she would surely be heartbroken.
Speaking of Mom made my nose tingle with emotion. I still remembered her countless reminders before I left: to take good care of myself no matter what happened.
There is no wall that doesn't let the wind through; the news of the outbreak had already reached her. She had originally wanted to rush over to see me, but I persuaded her to stay back with a mix of soft and hard words.
I knew my mother was not in good health, and a long journey would be too strenuous for her. Besides, this place was inherently unsafe; how could I bear to let her take such a risk?
Thinking of my mother's aging face made my eyes well up again. No, I had to pull myself together. This was not the time for self-pity; I needed to find a way to survive. One day, I would return to my mother and give her a big hug. Mom, you have to wait for me!
I silently vowed in my heart, then lifted my chin and threw myself back into the fight for survival.
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