THE UNDYING | TWILIGHT

Epilogue

28 Days Later

In a dark, empty room, Christopher Redgrave stirred to the familiar feeling of water on his face. Cold as icicles, tiny droplets of rainwater dripped from the ceiling and splashed onto his aching forehead. Just as before, he tried to wiggle and roll out of the splash zone, but he was unsuccessful in his attempts. 

"American!" he could still hear his landlord shouting. "I want my money, American!" 

"Soon, signore," Christopher murmured. "I'll have your money just as soon as I sell this story. I'm going to be famous when this goes public. Vampires and werewolves will be exposed to the world, and it's all thanks to me." 

Smiling, Christopher reached into his pocket, expecting to find the blue memory card which contained all of his most valuable recordings. 

But his pocket was empty. His precious memory card was gone.  

"No!" Christopher cried as he sat up with a start, and when he opened his eyes, he remembered that he was no longer in his dingy, dirty apartment. He hadn't seen that room in weeks. In fact, he hadn't seen anything at all. The darkness was all he knew now. He awoke in it and slept in it. He crawled in it and cried in it. Day after day. Day after day. It was an endless cycle. 

Still, despite the fact that he couldn't see himself, Christopher knew that his condition was rapidly deteriorating. 

It had started out as a sickness of the body, with a fever that lasted for days. Most nights he couldn't sleep because he was shivering so much. Most mornings he woke up in a pool of his own vomit. He didn't think things could get any worse. 

But they did. 

Two weeks ago, the sickness had spread to his mind, filling it with horrible, violent thoughts that made him act out for no reason at all. If he felt around the walls, he could easily find the hundreds of scratches he'd carved into the stone with his fingernails.

I'm losing control of myself, he realized. I'm becoming one of them. It's only a matter of time before—

All of a sudden, the room filled with a blinding white light that burned Christopher's sensitive eyes. Howling in pain, he covered his face with both hands and cowered in the corner.

"What do you want?" he screamed. "What do you want from me?" 

And when Christopher peeked through his parted fingers, the first thing he saw was the blinking red light of a video camera.