Victim #46

Nell hadn't been looking so good for the past week or two.  I should've known something was up.

"You been getting enough sleep lately?" I asked her as she staggered into breakfast one morning.  Her eyes had retreated so far back into her head I was worried her brain would swallow them, and I went so far as to think her skin had a macabre tint to it.

She shook her head slowly, obviously trying to look anywhere but at anyone else.  She made a noise that made me shiver.

"Nell, you feeling alright?  You look dead on your feet."

She gave a twitch as I said that, and her mouth pulled into a knowing smirk.

"You been following the news lately?" she asked, focusing on what I thought was a spot on the floor.

"Not really.  Why, an epidemic going around or something?"

That smirk widened.  "You could say that."

"Oh?  What would th--" a squawk throttled the rest of my words as pain shot up my leg from my ankle.  I looked down, more startled than anything.  "Nell!"

Nell hadn't detached herself from my ankle yet.  "Eah?" she replied gutterally.

"What're you doing?!"

She let go.  "I bit you."

"I understand that, but--"

"I had to, I'm sorry."

There still was something I wasn't quite getting.  There was still a pain in my ankle, and the pain started to spread up my leg.  I looked down at the remains of my breakfast.  Suddenly that bagel was repulsive to me.  Just as suddenly I smelled something meaty.

Something raw.

Something good.

I looked back at Nell.  "Cripes, Nell, if you had to turn me into a zombie why couldn't you have at least torn a chunk out of my arm?  That would've been much more impressive."

The End

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