Subject 2A

As you check your mail, you notice a letter that makes you stop in your tracks. Written on the front in big, bold letters, is URGENT. OPEN IMMEDIATELY! It is a letter issued from the government. You tear the seal off with trembling fingers and peer inside. It holds one piece of paper and a button. You take the paper out and open it up. It reads: Attention resident, you were randomly chosen to be part of an experiment conducted by the CDC. Please press the button when you are ready to leave. Do not pack anything. Your family will be informed of where you have gone. Good luck. Don't pack anything? Experiment? You take the button out of the envelope and discover a note attached to it; Do not be alarmed, you will be safe. Press this when you are ready. You don't have a choice do you?

"But what about my family? The note did say they would be informed...and besides, they wouldn't do whatever this experiment was if it was deadly, worst case scenario, I wake up with a tail. But what if it goes wrong and I die? Who will help take care of William?" All these thoughts run through your head as your mind battles itself over the decision. Pressing your lips together, you press the button and squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for an unknown threat.

The sound of helicopter blades slicing through the air makes you open one eye, then, slowly, the other. Looking up, you see a military helicopter hovering over you, a rope ladder hanging down from the door.

"Climb on!" A voice yells over the roar of the engine.

With a little hesitation, you reach up and grab the bottom rung. As soon as you are secured with your feet now on the bottom rung, and you gripping the closets rung to you, you feel your body being lifted into the air.

"Don't look down." You whisper to yourself, frozen from your fear of heights. Luckily, the ride isn't as long as you had first anticipated, your feet touch solid ground in no time, and you rip your hands away from the ladder, climb down, and shakily take a few steps away from it. Unfortunately, your knees give out and you fall to the ground, scraping your hands in an attempt to catch yourself.

"Whoa, easy there." The same voice that you had heard now says.

"Where am I?" You ask, unable to keep the fear out of your voice.

"The CDC. We have direct orders from the president to deliver you to their doorstep, so that's exactly what we are going to do." The man says, glancing your way.

Hoisting you to your feet, he takes one arm, and another man grabs your other. They usher you to the tinted glass doors and ring a doorbell.

"Yes?" A female voice answers.

"Subject 2A is here."

"Subject 2A?" You ask in a small voice, "What does that mean?"

"Bring her in." The voice says without answering your questions.

You try to pull back and fight the men who have your arms, but with no prevail. You are practically dragged through the doors and into a lobby. Leather couches, fake plants, crystal chandelier, and a white tiled floor greets you.

"We can take her from here." A tall, bald man says, entering through the elevator doors. He is wearing a lab coat and has piercing blue eyes. He offers his hand to you.

"Don't touch me." You hiss through clenched teeth.

He just laughs, "You don't have a choice." He grabs your hand and dismisses the soldiers. I'm sad to see them go, at least I knew them a bit.

"Shall we?" He asks you, already pulling you toward the elevator.

"Now hold on a minute! Who are you? Why am I subject 2A? What is this experiment?"

"All of your questions will be answered soon enough." He assures you.

You never should have pressed that button. You should have thrown it away and went on with your life. But you can't take it back.

After you are pulled into the elevator and the doors slide shut, the man turns to you, "You are brave for pressing that button. Most people just dismiss it and move on."

"Thanks." You grumble, shifting your weight to your left leg.

Awkward silence fills the air and the man turns away, clearing his throat.

After what seems like forever, the elevator dings and the doors open. A long hallway is the only thing you can see from your limited view. It looks longer than it seems, because by the time you are led to your room, you are out of breath. The room you were led to is bare. Just a bed, pillow, blanket, and a huge mirror are the only things in the room. You guess that the mirror is double sided, so people who look through it on the other side can see inside while you cant see them. Great.

"Welcome subject 2A. Lets get right to it." The female voice who answered the doorbell says through a speaker above the door, "To answer your questions, I am Dr. Libby, you are subject 2A because the last twenty-six subjects have failed, and the experiment is in the form of gas. We will flood the room with it, and if successful, you will turn into what people call zombies."

"Zombies? You mean that you want to make flesh eating, virus spreading, deadly zombies??"

"Correct. Now, let the experiment commence."

"Wait!!!" You run to the door and bang on it, hoping to get out. You scream and scream and hit the door until your knuckles break open and blood runs down your wrists. But by then, it's too late, the gas has already filled most of the room.

You slide down to the floor, tears clogging your vision, and pull your shirt up over your nose. At least it's some protection. But it's not enough. The gas leaks through your shirt and you inhale it. Coughing, you shout for help. But you know that no help will come. You can feel yourself start to change. Your breath becomes shallower, your eyes start to get cloudy, and you cant think straight. Your skin crawls and it feels like thousands of fire ants are biting you. You scream and scratch and every exposed part of skin. Your mouth becomes dry, and your hearing fades. The last thing you hear before passing out is:

"Experiment successful."