Being bitten by a zombie hurts, not in the way they claim a vampire bite hurts, - and yes, we thought it was bad enough when the vampires arrived too - but rather in an excruciating way. A chunk, or rather a mouthful of your own flesh is ripped from your body, and that all before the virus gets in your system. First your temperature increases, your heart races and your blood actually begins to cook, your brain is attacked by electrical impulses telling it your body is in pain and eventually becomes overloaded; in many cases is melts completely.
Of course, that's not even the worst part… no… that comes much later. My studies into the zombie phenomenon have shown that their bloodlust goes far beyond the mere rumblings of hunger we have should we skip breakfast, but rather it causes them pain, actual physical pain. As a side note to this report, I have conducted some basic testing into pain relief on a number of subjects both male and female, and the results were remarkable. In both cases the aggression of the subject was reduced significantly and in a direct correlation to the level of pain suppressants they received. Interestingly enough, there also seemed to be a level of reduction to a placebo subject, although this may have been due to his capture and remains inconclusive. I intend to publish a paper on pain reductive treatment should I have the time.
I had a lucky brush the other day; I was preparing Subject A1, (a large alpha male) for his latest course of pain relief but made an error with the chin guard. It wasn’t a bad bite, just the tip of a finger.
That, and the fear surrounding the bite are my main reason for beginning this diary. I think I got away with it, I have been taking the vaccine tablets they passed around the laboratory, I think the government are taking them too; everyone in the cabinet is still alive and well. I'm surprised nobody noticed.
Although, I think the tablets are a hoax, just plain old-fashioned hokum, I have just woken up from a rather strange but nowadays not uncommon afternoon nap, but find myself to be with company. Apparently my current neighbour, a molecular physicist by the name of January Collins popped by; maybe to ask for some sugar, perhaps coffee.
At least I think it's January, most of her face and the contents of her torso are missing, and the A1 male has gone.
I just hope above all things, that the finder of this diary does not find it by my side, for if they do I am sure they will suffer the same fate as poor January. I'm just so hungry...it hurts.