No one ever notices how the end is always just a stones-throw away. All it takes is one person pressing a big red button, or someone misinterpreting an order, or a parasite learning how to control. Everyone knows the stories. We all know what a Zombie is. We all know the trope - an undead being with a thirst for human flesh, that can only be killed by destroying the brain.

But we also know that such a Zombie cannot exist. We all know that a dead person is dead forever, no matter what. But something not many consider, is what would happen if they weren’t dead. Almost everyone has heard of the Cordyceps fungus - a fungal infection that turns ants into mindless drones with no goal other than spreading the infection to others. But what if that was to spread to humans?

What if some parasite learned to control us, stripping our humanity away, leaving us as vicious husks with nothing but a hunger for flesh? Sounds impossible, right?

As a doctor, I know better than most that it is possible. In fact, I’d argue, it’s inevitable. All it takes is one parasite to evolve the ability to control our minds. All it takes is one tapeworm, or one fungus, to secrete the right type of hormone, and its over. There would be no cure, no stopping the spread. The world would be done.

It’s a Friday, just like any other. The mid-February air is cold, the frost biting at my fingertips. The city is busy with the early-morning rush, the roads clogged with traffic jams, and the pavements bustling with activity. The sounds of chatter fill the air, silence being nothing more than a distant memory.

As usual, it’s a challenge to navigate the paths, weaving through large crowds of people on their way to their jobs, just like me. I cross the road, without looking - the cars aren’t moving, anyway. Someone honks their horn at me in anger, but I choose to ignore it.
As I arrive at the Hospital for another day at work, I notice an unusual number of ambulances driving around, sirens wailing with the sorrow of the sick and the injured. I walk through the sliding glass doors into the sterile, white reception.

“Morning, Jordan,” A tired voice calls from behind the desk, “Doc Martin wants to see you.”
“Thanks, Janet. Did he say what he needs?” I respond to the short, blonde woman sat behind the desk.
“Dunno, probably something to do with this new sickness that’s going around.” She replies dismissively, going back to the crossword on her desk.

As I walk through the packed waiting room, I notice a lot of people are coughing up blood, while shivering and jerking violently. I try not to pay attention to the cries of pain, focusing only on the day ahead. Moving through the sterile corridors, nurses and doctors rush past me with gurneys and IV drips, blocking the halls with patients that can no longer be fit into wards.
I enter Doctor Martin’s office, the door muffling the sounds of suffering and illness outside. “You wanted to see me Doctor?” I ask, putting on the most cheerful voice I can.
“We’ve got a problem, Jordan. Some parasite is wreaking havoc." The doctor responds, his voice gruff.
“What are the symptoms?” I inquire, with a pit in my stomach.
"Well, there's the usual flu-like ones, then there's aggression and seizures too." He states bluntly, scanning through the files that litter his desk. "I need your help quarrantining them all. You think you can do that for me?"
“I’ll try my best, sir, Thank you.” I say, confidently, before turning and leaving the room. As I close the door, I turn to see Janet standing before me in the corridor, which is now seemingly empty.

“Do you need anything, Janet?” I ask. No response. She just stands still, staring at me, before beginning to wail with a mixture of despair and anger. “Janet?” I ask again, with a lump in my throat.

She begins to slowly trudge towards me, her wails growing louder with every step. My hair starts to stand on end. As she walks under a light, her face is brightly illuminated, revealing tears of blood streaking down her cheeks. Her light brown eyes, once full of light and life, are now vacant and expressionless. Her pace accelerates, and before long she is sprinting towards me. Not seeing another option, I turn and run away as fast as I can.

As I run, her screams continue to grow louder, as she crashes into oxygen tanks and other clu er in the halls. As I turn a corner, she crashes through the door at the end of the straight hall, barrelling into the broom closet. Not wanting to hang around for her to reorient herself, I continue to run.

Passing through identical hallway after identical hallway, I eventually reach the operating theatre, where I see two people chase down a short man with brown hair. As he runs into a dead end and is cornered by the screeching pair, they drag him to the ground and start biting him. He cries for help, with a bloodcurdling scream.

In a panic, I sprint past, gaining the attention of the man’s attackers. I decide to head for the evacuation point on the roof, used in case of an emergency. The stairs are clear, so I sprint upwards as fast as I can, with the a ackers not far behind. I push the roof access door open, before slamming it shut, and barricading it with a broom to stop the a ackers from breaking in.
I breathe a sigh of relief, and sink to the ground. However, my rest is short-lived, as the sound of glass shattering punctures the background noise of the city, accompanied by gut-wrenching screams as people are dragged to the ground and ripped to shreds by huge groups of attackers. As the pair chasing me begins smashing themselves into the door separating them from me, I reach down to my belt, and take out my walkie-talkie. I tune it to the emergency frequency, and begin to broadcast. “I need help!” I scream into the microphone, desperately hoping that someone hears me. “I’m trapped on the roof of QA Hospital! Please, if anyone can hear me, help me!”

As my broadcast ends and I am met with nothing more than static, I sink to the floor, with tears rolling down my cheeks. Is this really the end? Is this how I die? Alone, and afraid, stuck on the roof of a hospital? I cast my mind to Mum, and Dad, who will never know what happened to me- if they even survive this. I think about Janet, poor, innocent Janet, who turned feral and animalistic so quickly. How do I know that’s not going to happen to me? How do I know I’m not just a ticking time bomb, ready to explode every minute?

Maybe, just maybe... It would be better to jump. Go out with dignity, instead of violently and mindlessly a acking the people I know and love. Is that the be er option? Is there another choice? Probably not. I stand to my feet. I move to the edge of the roof. I look down, and see bodies laying still on the street, with cars piled up and ablaze. I prepare to jump. And then, I hear it. “This is Private Charlie Green, UK Armed Forces. Do you copy?”

With renewed hope, I scramble away from the edge, frantically picking up the walkie-talkie and practically screaming into the microphone; “Yes, I copy! I need help!”
“We’re en-route to your location. Please remain calm, and stay where you are.” The voice responds, calmly, and with authority.
“Thank you! Please hurry!” I shout, my voice shaking with both fear and excitement.

I begin to pace around the roof, awaiting my rescue, whilst desperately trying to drown out the sound of banging and screams from below, when all of a sudden I am deafened by the roaring of helicopter blades nearing the hospital. I look up, to see two a ack helicopters firing into the streets below, with one other moving to land on the roof. As it touches down, the broom holding the door closed finally snaps, with the pair crashing through, frantically rushing towards me.

Two shots echo out, both attackers dropping to the ground, dead. “Quickly! Get on!” I hear a voice desperately call out, barely audible over the sound of machine gun fire and helicopter blades. I turn towards the helicopter, to see a tall, blonde man reaching down to grab my hand. “Come on, we don’t have long!” He shouts, desperately. Without a second glance, I run towards him, and grab his hand.