Alright, another story idea:
Instead of explaining the concept, allow me to paint the scene in your head.
Society has fallen, a deadly plague has crippled most of humankind. The monsters responsible prowl the street, looking for their next victim. In the din of buildings burning, and car alarms blaring, a single scream is heard.
Some of the last survivors of the city have huddled amongst themselves in a hospital. They worry, their store of food and fresh water is running low, and it isn't certain if they'll make it through the week. Suddenly, the clamber of footsteps is heard rushing through the hallways, while the survivors hope for the best. The man peers his head at the group, and an older woman's face lights up with happiness. She runs up to hug him.
"John! You made it back safe! We thought... we thought..."
"It's alright, everything's alright. I managed a whole cart of groceries. We'll be eating good for a few days more."
The John's voice lacks any sort of relief or elation. He pushes the older woman away from him, and he goes to sit by himself as the group descends on his parcel of food, dividing it amongst themselves.
Another gentleman though, a sharp-eyed doctor, notices the unease on John's face.
"Hey John, is everything alright?"
John looks away, he can't meet him eye to eye.
"...You've been bitten, haven't you?"
"...Yeah, Steven, I wasn't paying attention. One of'em got me good."
John rolls up his sleep, and peels back a few layers of bandages to reveal a nasty bite wound. Dr. Steven takes a closer look at it.
"I'm so sorry, but there's no doubt about it. You're infected. How long's it been since you got it?"
"Atleast 3 days now."
"So what are you gonna do about it?"
John falls silent, as if knowing what's going to happen. Steven motions at a syringe of some unknown poison in his coat's inner pocket.
"Death doesn't bother me John. I can put you out of your misery. You said three days? We don't have much time, how do you want to do this?"
John thinks for a second, "No, every little bit is valuable. I'll throw myself off the top of the building. That should do it."
Steve and John look back at the group, all still preoccupied with their bounty of delicious goods.
"Let's not ruin their day John, let's sneak away and do this while they aren't paying attention. It's best for them."
John gets up, and starts walking down the long hallway to the stairwell, Steven in tow. Before they get their though, John stops, clutching his chest.
"Come on John! Only a little bit longer!"
John can no longer respond, as he starts hacking and coughing. He falls to the ground, and vomits black bile. He loses control of his muscles and seizures on the ground.
"DAMNIT JOHN! DON'T TURN ON ME NOW!"
It's much too late though, as John's skin metamorphosis, and becomes ashen and gray. Steven panics, and takes the syringe, stabbing it into him to no effect.
"NO! Don't do this to us John!"
John's body mutates, the skin stretches to allow his limbs to become longer, and his body begins swelling in size. Steven finally realizes he can't handle it by himself, his only hope lies in the firearms that some of the riflemen in his group hold. He runs back to them, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"IT'S JOHN! HE'S TURNING! WE NEED TO KILL HIM NOW!"
This sudden announcement catches everyone by surprise, but Steven manages to get some people to follow him back to John's location. John's body continues swelling, the seams of his clothing start bursting, his belt snaps, his shoes tear off his feet. His arms and legs become much longer, and more muscular, both hands and feet deforming into large flat disks with his legs and arms deforming into veritable tree-trunks to match.
The group finally rendezvous with John, bearing witness to his metamorphosis, they don't hesitate, they fire a barrage of pistol and rifle fire, only to see it all disappear into his fattening mass. Feeling it though, John twists his head, and reveals to them his last shred of his human face as it changes. His ears have grown to thirty-fold their original size, and have become large and floppy. His skull distends and mutates, with his eyes being forced further and further apart and his mouth becoming larger and larger. His nose protrudes out of his face, enlarging to become a snout, and then even larger, longer, and more muscular to become a trunk.
"OH GOD!" the group thunders simultaneously. John, now the beast that he is, finally regains his balance, and gets up on all fours, facing the group. Everyone fires another volley into John's monster body, but to no avail as he trumpets a mad death scream wail. He charges at the group and everyone throws down their weapons and run for their lives down the hallway. Crushing and destroying everything in his path, John catches and crushes his attackers underfoot, one by one. The building quakes and cracks as he stampedes through the building, Steven the only one barely keeping ahead of the monster as everyone else is flattened in his wake. It's futile though, as Steven makes the last heroic action of his life, leading him to a dead-end instead of toward the group.
Steven, cornered against the wall, the transformed monster John nearing him step by step. He looks him dead in the eye as John's trunk violently wraps around Steven's body, lifting him into the air.
Lightning strikes, and the silhouette of the two pre-face the screen as the title for the movie scrolls upwards, onto the screen.
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Elephantitis
I think of stupid things like this all the time, but I have no idea why I decided to put this one into writing.
Author
Topic: Zombie preparedness (Read 133489 times)