The Birth of Death

Chapter One

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The man stood silently outside of the green tinted glass door, licking the sweat off of his upper lip nervously. His fingers inched towards the keypad, but he desperately restrained them, waiting for the signal.

"One, two, three, four-" he whispered as silently as he could, his breathe coming in great gasps. "Thirteen." his head snapped up just in time to see the small security camera go limp from where it kept watch of all who entered the hallway.

"3-7-9-4-6." he murmured as he hastily punched in the numbers and then jumped when the door opened, releasing a hiss of air as it did so.

With one step he was into the next room where all that stood between him and the spores was a simple wooden door. With a quick flick of his wrist the handle turned and the door easily swung open on its greased hinges.

"The idiocy of Americans." he laughed, releasing a slight accent past his lips.

As he stepped into the next room he swallowed hard when he saw the glass vault in the wall that had a "DANGER" sign printed on it several times. With trembling fingers he drew the single key out of his pocket and fumbled to get it in the slot. When he had finally gotten the key into the hole he slowly turned it and took a sharp intake of break when he heard the crisp click of the lock. With ease, the door slid open to reveal the many petri dishes hidden away inside. Choosing from random, the man chose one petri dish and carefully set it down onto the single table that decorated the, otherwise, bare room.

For what seemed like an hour, the man stood there, staring down at the spore infested petri dish. He knew he had a job to do, but the job came with a risk. He needed the money though, his family was starving and he was promised their wellbeing if he sacrificed himself. Pushing aside the outcomes of his situation he opened the petri dish and took a cautious sniff of the contents inside. When the foul scent wafted up his nose he quickly doubled over and expelled the remaining contents of his stomach. When he straightened up he brought the dish back up to his nose and greedily sniffed the spores until he felt he would collapse from the fumes.

With a sigh, the man gently placed the lid back onto the petri dish and locked it back into the vault were he had gotten it. He closed the wooden door behind him and left through the sliding glass door. He looked back up at the security camera and smiled when he saw it come back to life and begin to watch the hallway once more.

As he made his way down the hallway, the man breathed on as many people as he could. Most people shot him dirty looks, some didn't even notice and one lady fainted for she had never been given attention from a man before. Just as he was about to leave the hospital through the main door he heard a familiar voice calling after him.

"Ah, there you are!"

"Hello Doctor." he replied sweetly and spun around on his heels, pasting a fake smile on his face.

"How did the tests go?" he asked, oblivious to what the man had just done.

"They didn't take as long as what I had expected, definently different than from the university when you're on your own." he sighed, making sure that he breathed on the Doctor.

"I remember my first days working here, you'll get used to it, don't you worry." the Doctor encouraged.

"Well, it was nice talking to you Doctor, but I need to be going on my way." he explained.

"Not so fast." he stopped him. The man stopped cold, afraid that he had been discovered. "Not until you give me back my keys."

"Oh, yes of course, I almost forgot." he stuttered as he handed the Doctor back the keys. "Good day Doctor." and with that he was out the door.

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All down the damp streets of Manhattan the infected man quickly spread the virus without a second thought. Every man, woman and child he came into contact to he blew on their faces and carried on his way. When he had reached the main street of the city he laughed when he saw a man screaming after a girl about how the world was coming to an end across the street from him. With a little skip he hopped onto the street and lightly jogged across to the man, making several cars and taxis slam on their brakes and blare their horns at him.

"Hey man, keep up the good work." he laughed and handed the man a twenty dollar bill.

"This is no joke boy!" he angerly protested as he snatched the green bill, "You should be preparing yourself for the end!"

"What end?" the young man asked, "The zombie apocalypse?"

"Yes! The apocalypse! Zombies, death, plague! Everything boy!"

"Use that dollar to help prepare yourself then." the man laughed and walked down the street. "All though it's too late." he said darkly under his breathe.

After several minutes he quickly turned onto a smaller sidewalk and was dismayed that there were several people walking up and down it, the occasional car whizzing past. With a grunt he pulled out a small, silver flip phone and punched in several numbers before pressing it to his ear.

"Hello?" a gruff voice answered on the other side.

"It's done, the job is done and is quickly being done by hundreds of others by now." he spoke hastily into the phone, his full accent coming out.

"Very good." the voice praised, "How much longer until it takes full effect?"

The man, however, didn't hear the voice's final words as he slowly began to choke on his own tongue and his brain began to pound on the inside of his head. He collapsed onto his knees and desperately scratched at his throat for a breathe. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and yet, he continued to live.

"I will make sure to tell your family that you died an honorable death and they will receive the money I promised you. Goodbye."