As Harley's consciousness began to slip, a flood of memories surged through his mind like a rushing tide, overwhelming and relentless. The images played out before him: moments of laughter, camaraderie, and joy, times when the world still made sense. He could see his friends—Jason, Marie, and Ava—smiling, their faces full of life. Their bond was something Harley had always cherished, something that had felt unbreakable. But now, those moments seemed like a lifetime ago, a time before everything had fallen apart.
The memory of the four of them gathered in a bar, raising glasses in unspoken solidarity, flashed before his eyes. They had made an oath that night, an oath to stand together no matter what. "We live, we fight, we die together," they had vowed, their words solidifying their bond.
It felt like a cruel joke now, the world they once knew so far removed from the chaos around them. But in the face of this nightmare, Harley clung to that memory, finding strength in the promise they had made.
As the memories faded into the haze of his deteriorating consciousness, he heard a voice—soft, almost childlike—whisper through the fog. "You won't die like this, right?" The voice carried a sense of vulnerability, a plea for hope that struck at something deep inside him.
He shook his head, fighting against the darkness that threatened to claim him. No... I can't go like this. Not after everything we've been through.
"I won't die!" Harley's shout broke through the silence of the bathroom, his voice rough but filled with defiance. Even if death itself is for me, I won't let it happen. His mind screamed in protest, even as his body began to betray him.
His skin, once warm and full of life, had become an unnatural, ghostly white. The virus coursing through his veins had drained the color from his flesh, leaving him with a stark, hollow appearance. His veins were now a dark violet, twisted and visible beneath his skin. The transformation was taking over him, but there was still something human in him, something different from the mindless, soulless zombies that roamed the streets outside.
As he looked into the mirror, his reflection stared back at him—pale, emotionless, with eyes that were empty yet still aware. The transformation had robbed him of much, but there was a flicker of the man he used to be buried deep within.
His fists, once battered and bruised, now appeared flawless. The skin on them was smooth, without a trace of the injuries he had sustained earlier. The virus had granted him this power, this unnatural ability to heal and grow stronger. But it had also taken something from him—something irreplaceable. His emotions. His humanity.
With a deep, ragged breath, Harley reached down and touched the scar on his chest, the one left by the bite from the horde he had fought his way through. He didn't want to accept it. He didn't want to believe that this was happening to him. But the reality was clear: his body was changing. It was becoming something... less.
Before he could process the enormity of what was happening, the door to the washroom swung open. Jason and Marie followed by Ava rushed inside, their eyes wide with shock as they took in the sight of Harley standing in the shattered remains of the mirror. The pieces of glass reflected their faces, each one a mix of fear, confusion, and disbelief.
"Harley..." Jason's voice was barely a whisper, his gaze flicking from Harley's pale form to the broken mirror on the floor.
Marie was the first to move, her hand reaching out as if she could stop the transformation with a touch. "This isn't you," she said, her voice trembling. "Harley, what's happening to you?"
Ava stood back, her expression unreadable as she surveyed the scene. The weight of the situation hung heavily in the air. Harley could feel their eyes on him, their concern mingled with a palpable sense of fear.
"I'm still here," Harley said, his voice low but steady. He forced himself to look at each of them. "I'm not one of them. Not completely."
Jason's brow furrowed. "But... you're not... human anymore." The words hung in the air, a cold reality settling between them. Jason's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "What the hell are we supposed to do now, Harley?"
Marie's face softened with a mix of sorrow and determination. "You're still our leader, Harley. We can figure this out. We have to."
But Harley shook his head. "I don't know if I can stop it," he admitted. His voice cracked slightly as he continued, "This... this thing inside me. I can feel it taking over."
Ava's eyes narrowed, her arms crossed. "Then what's the plan? You just want us to sit here and watch you turn into one of them?"
Harley's heart tightened at the words, but he knew Ava was right. Time was running out. He didn't have the luxury of figuring this out slowly.
"We need to move," Jason said, his voice steady. "We can't just sit here and wait for whatever happens next."
Harley turned to face them, his eyes hardening with resolve. "I won't die like this," he repeated, the words a vow, a promise to himself. "And I won't let the virus take control. I'll find a way to fight it. I will fight it."
His team—his friends—looked at him, uncertainty in their eyes, but they nodded. They had no other choice. They weren't going to leave him behind.
The sound of distant groans echoed from outside the building, growing louder with every passing second. The undead were closing in.
"Let's go," Marie said, her voice unwavering despite the fear that gripped her. "Together."
As they gathered their things, the weight of the situation became clear. Harley wasn't just fighting for his life. He was fighting to hold onto whatever humanity he had left. And with his team at his side, he wasn't going to give up without a fight.