White Eyes

It started like any other iconic zombie horror story, with the infection. News broad-castings say that it may have been initially started with some sort of plague, but people who have survived say it appears more paranormal.
Two weeks ago, I was sitting in my room watching the news before I began my regular routine working as a manager at the Marriott. The reporter began talking about some unknown type of plague or disease that broke out somewhere in Africa (I didn’t catch the country’s name). Since it was common for disease to spread in that particular environment, nobody seemed to pay much notice to what they were talking about. The odd part of the disease, however, was that the infected people were avoiding people and staying secluded in the darkness of their whereabouts.
A later report stated that the infected people began showing signs of insanity. They were seen in corners babbling nonsense and some holding their heads screaming at what appeared to be a figment of their imagination. The most disturbing feature was their eyes. God, I hate those fucking eyes. They had sunken in and were beginning to glaze over, almost as if they were becoming blind. Before the story switched, one man had come up right next to the camera and stared straight into the lens. He cocked his head a little and smiled before the station switched. I turned off the television and headed to bed.
It started spreading. When I had awoken the next morning, the top story was that an unknown type of disease had started moving from Africa and spread over to parts of South America and Europe. The transmission of the plague was unknown at the time, though it was terrifying that this plague had spread so far overnight.
Nothing came on the air for the next week, until one day the same reporter came back on the air. Something was off about her. She stated that this was the last time this station would be or air, or any other for that matter. The disease had spread over to the United States, and now is a global pandemic. More, the transmission of it was still unclear, yet it was suspected is was from blood, semen, saliva, etc. Right before the station shut down, I took another look at her face. Her eyes were sunken in, and at closer look she seemed to be getting pale, almost as if she was going to vomit. Suddenly the station shut off and left nothing but the static on my screen.
After that, our world fell into anarchy. People were robbing stores, buying guns, and stealing food. My girlfriend Sophia, my brother Tyler, and me had met up at a supermarket, where we had taken carloads of food and drove back to the Marriott, where we vacated a few rooms on the top floor. Tyler’s friend owned a gun shop on the outskirts of town, and we were able to stockpile several firearms and rounds of ammunition. We sat back and prepared for whatever was coming.
When the infected arrived in our city, it wasn’t like how they portray zombies in the movies. Some were driving cars, some walking. They didn’t shuffle around and fall apart, they looked just like the healthy.
Except for their eyes.
They looked sunken in and blacked around the sockets, sort of like raccoon eyes, but it was the eyes themselves that petrified everyone. They were completely whitened, like they rolled back into their skulls, except for thin black slits that resembled those of a cat. It was those eyes that were their edge on us.
The infected would transmit the plague by making eye contact with the target, and just staring at them until the person was completely helpless, then the infected person would attack them with their long, spiked fingernails.
People who were infected would usually fully transform in a matter of 2–3 hours. When I walked outside briefly two days ago, I saw a man outside running around screaming at the few on the streets to help him. I watched in pity and horror as the man attempted to silence the imaginary voices in his head by sticking a screwdriver through his ear. I felt bad for him.
Yesterday, they finally broke into the Marriott. I gave Tyler an AK47 and told him to hold them off at the entrance door. I gave him a mirror and told him to aim backwards, knowing looking them in the eye would end his life.
Hours later the sounds of gunfire stopped. I handed Sophia a revolver and told her to hide until I came back. As I headed downstairs, the sound of screeching grew louder. My brother was on his knees, coughing up blood. I rushed over and used a crowbar to crush the remaining one’s head in.
I ran over to my brother and knelt beside him. I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I felt a pang of guilt for sending him downstairs alone.
“Don’t..let me live.” He said before he closed his eyes. I knew what had to be done, but to my own brother…the thought made me nauseous. Or was it the thought? I felt like I was going to throw up. I quickly took a Colt1911 out of my bag, closed my eyes, and fired.
After that, I have trouble remembering. I think that I stumbled into the elevator and closed the doors before blacking out. Next thing I knew, I was walking down the hallway that my room was on.
I could tell as soon as I walked through the door that something was off. There was a cold, uncomfortable feeling in the air, almost as if someone left the AC on for too long. I saw Sophia curled in the corner of the room. She was talking, so I thought she might be on the phone. As I slowly stepped closer, I lost all hope. Her nose was bleeding profusely, and her eyes were sunken in. She cocked her head and let loose an unearthly sound that rung in my head like church bells. Time seemed to freeze when I looked up. Her eyes had completely whitened over, and she had a smile on her face. I’m never going to forget that smile. She took a step foreword and I reacted seemingly automatically. I swung the crowbar in my hand so hard I thought I pulled my shoulder out. She hit the floor with a thud and didn’t get up.
This brings me to today. I’m currently sitting in the last room on the floor, sitting in the bathtub. I looked into the mirror yesterday night. My eyes were getting glazed over. I don’t know when I became infected. Which is why I took out my eyes. I keep hearing somebody who says that I’ll be safe if I have no eyes. I don’t know if this is even legible handwriting anymore. I guess I’ll leave this for you.
If you are reading this, I am in the Marriott in Springfield, Massachusetts. Hopefully you’ll be here soon.
(unintelligible text)
I’m getting lonely.
Credit To: Joshua Perry
Category:Beings