You're A Zombie?

Turning

Sans's entire body convulsed, a strangled scream comming from his mouth. The virus entering into his blood stream a minute prior had only caused the slowly spreading pain in his arm to spread to the rest of his body much quicker. He felt like his body was being cooked from the inside from the burning pain.

Pain that felt like it would never go away unable to even tell or track how long it had been since the virus had began its attack on his body intent on tearing him apart from the inside. Sans was surprised at this point to still be conscious, the average human would of fainted by this point due to the pain. Yet Sans was still awake.

Perhaps it would of been better for him to just close his eyes and lose himself to unconsciousness, to death. Yet Sans still held on, unwilling to let the virus take him. If only to give his friends and brother the time to pack everything up and leave before they would see what I was turned into and be forced to shoot my zombie self.

I just continued to lay there in agony trying to hold onto consciousness. How long had he been here? Minutes? Hours? He didn't know, but he knew that he had been screaming long enough his voice to have grown hoarse.

Yet it seemed that after a while the agonizing pain in his system seemed to lose its sharpness. Sure, there was still pain but it was now manageable. The convulsions disappearing entirely at that stage leaving his body weak unable to even lift a finger. Sans didn't know what was going on at this point either.

How long had he been here? How long had he been using every ounce of willpower and determination he had to keep himself in the world of the living? How was it possible for him to still be aware and alert of the world around him? His mind was unable to come up with a proper response, he was running on even less than fumes at this point.

Then, his determination to stay awake finally gave out when the pain in his body began to dull even more. The man slipping into unconsciousness as the world faded around him, praying he had bought his friends enough time to pack up everything in their old base and escape to somewhere safer.

(*)

Sans hadn't expected to wake up, of course he shouldn't have. Once you were infected your body was taken over by the virus and the person's consciousness was killed off leaving behind a husk that the virus would pupeter into bitting and spreading itself  to others. Every survivor knew that for a fact, all of them having seen it more than once in this apocalyptic world. The pain of losing someone never got any easier for Sans as he stayed behind with the afflicted person as they were turned. Helping to offer comfort to that person before they moved on to the next plain of existence. Quite a few people had even asked for an early release as they were being turned, not wanting to stay alive for that bit longer as the process put them through agonizing pain. He didn't blame them, it was obviously torture for a person turning and after he went through the experience himself he understood even better.

He could only sympathize now with those he heard during the initial stages of the infected. The nights where hundreds of people could be heard screaming in agony begging to peace but would be forced to wait the virus out. Sans still had nightmares of those nights... Yet some how he lay here in a bed with his mind intact and the pain gone from his body. How was that possible?

Sans slowly sat up from the bed, looking down at his hands to not find a mark on them. That while it should of been quite innocent and normal was a sign that something was off. Afterall Sans was in the middle of an apocalypse, his hands were normally bruised or had cuts on them due to his harsh lifestyle. Sans quickly pulled his jacket off, dried blood sticking to the jacket where the zombie that had bit Sans had torn through it. Yet as Sans revealed the spot where he had been bitten there was no mark on him. There was nothing, it was as if he had never been bitten at all. Was this the effects of the virus? There were zombies that could regenerate, entire body parts which had been torn off replaced with brand new flesh.

If that was the case though.... Sans's soul sank at the implications of the idea. Quickly getting off the bed and rushing over to the vanity to look in the mirror. He gasped at the sight before him. "I..."

This couldn't be happening... "This... this  can't be-" Sans could barely recognize the person looking back at him in the mirror.

The brown hair that once covered his head was now white as snow, his hair about an inch longer than it once was. His mouth now sporting a pair of fangs, his tongue glowed a light blue. But the most obvious change that drew his attention was his eyes. His eyes that were supposed to be white were now black, his pupil was no longer visible and his iris now glowed brilliant light blue. Sans reached his hand out to his reflection, shaken by his appearance.

He was a zombie, but how was he alive?