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Rats


"I do fear we are arriving at a point in human history. A terminus where instead of gleefully anticipating the future we will mourn what might have been."

The corridors of the hospital became a corpse-choked labyrinth. Pain filled moans blended with the delirious cries of abandoned invalids on the edge of death. The generator sputtered and groaned as it burned its last drop of fuel. Darkness swallowed the hospital's windowless confines and dozens across the complex made their last breath through a mechanical apparatus designed to mimic the slow rhythm of life. The hospital abandoned by its staff was now little more than a mausoleum. Gerry was a paraplegic left alive in this warehouse of the dead. His broken body was permanently immobilized.
The sensation of touch did not exist. Gerry was little more than a pair of eyes.
Time dissolved in the darkness that was at times, so heavy Gerry wasn't sure if his eyes were open. The impenetrable black he stared into was like a preview of oblivion. Eventually, Gerry became used to the smell of the decaying bodies as well as his own bodily waste pooling around him, cultivating microbes that were beginning to slowly eat away at his flesh. For Gerry death would not be a solitary moment, he was dissolving into the emptiness. Besides the stench, there was little left of his dark, quiet world, until he heard the first squeaks the tapping of tiny claws on the tile floor.
 The furry looters seemed to be multiplying. He could hear them all over the room. Squeaking the location of the tastiest morsels of human remains. Gerry could hear the fabric of his sheets tussling. He looked down at his feet. His eyes strained in the darkness. He could see a rat crawling up his legs. As it got closer, he could see its bloodstained whiskers. It got close enough for him to look into its dark marble eyes before it took its first bite out of his face.

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