THE DEAD ZONE | COMPLETED

One Hundred Ten |

One Hundred Ten |

The sun had rose only a few minutes ago, beside me Sebastian was still sleeping silently and while I wanted nothing more than to admire his shirtless state, and the way lines of white danced across his skin in the form of scars, something from my mom's letter weighed on my chest like a fucking bus, and I hadn't been able to sleep since that stupid dream.

When we reached the house, you were screaming in pain, and then you bit me. I didn't think anything of it, but you didn't turn. You didn't because you are subject zero.

I'm onto the fourth hour now, my fever is terribly high and I will turn soon.

Her words, those words, they plagued me. At first I hadn't really considered them, my thoughts were scrambled from absorbing the entirety of the letter but now that my thoughts had a chance to calm, those words remained. Like a bad taste in my mouth, or an unresolved stink in my nose. She didn't mention being attacked by anyone undead. Instead, she specifically mentioned not being bit—I was the one bit, not her. And yet when I didn't turn into a zombie, I had bitten her in my state of pain and panic.

I didn't think anything of it, but you didn't turn.

You didn't because you are subject zero.

I never considered what it exactly meant by being subject zero meant. I knew it meant I had zero in my head, I had the virus in my veins and stupidly, hell zombies even avoided me now, and I thought that was all it meant. But in my own ignorance, I ignored the facts that were right in front of me. I was subject zero.

That meant I was the Lyssasolanum.

I am the original zombie.

Dread smothered me, and it all made sense why Maxwell had given me so much information that night. All that torture, it was to distract me from his true intent. He wanted to figure out how I worked, how my dad had turned me into this—this monster that I was. That was how he'd control the zombies.

"Hey," the delicious accented voice was thick with sleep.

I looked down at Sebastian, my body relaxing slightly as I stared at him.

"Hey," I whispered, running my fingers over his bare arm, "Are you alright?"

"Heh. I was gonna' ask you that. You look worried about something," he replied sitting up, then looking down at his bare chest, "Oh, would you look at that, I have become partially nude in my slumber. I do hope my nakedness isn't the cause of your distress."

I snickered, he switched into old English man real quick. That was certainly a sleepy Sebastian thing and honestly I wasn't mad at that. He was cute when he was groggy. His accent became thicker when he was tired. I licked my lips slowly, for a moment forgetting everything but the man in front of me.

"Definitely not," I muttered, my eyes dancing across his body.

He smirked, leaning towards me, "Not even a little bit my love?"

"No," I breathed softly, my breathe escaping me.

Our lips were inches apart, and I found myself leaning in. My lips parted, his hand slid around my waist and rested on the lower of my back. I inhaled with anticipation, my eyes fluttering closed when suddenly there was a loud knock on the front door—the noise echoed into the bedroom, and my eyes popped open, a blush on my cheeks. He chuckled, pressing his lips to my forehead before sliding from the bed.