It huddled. Cowered even.
And it didn’t like that. Not one bit.
It preferred “Waited.” Or, better, “Took Stock.”
It had been a week since insertion and no headway had been made. If anything, it had been a disaster.
Any attempts at reaching ground zero had been repelled. The defending forces were far too strong and incredibly well prepared.
Still, that which does not kill you…
Each attack had cost it dearly, but had also stripped away what was unnecessary. Even with little energy, it was at its prime.
And it had a plan.
***
Brian walked back from the bathroom, passing a work mate.
“Hey, Brian.” His colleague stopped. Brian thought it was a Darren, from Marketing. They all looked alike in Marketing. “Are you ok, Bri? You’re looking a bit warm.”
Brian thought for a second. “Well, I’ve been a bit under the weather for a couple of days, but I feel alright.”
“Ok…” ‘Darren’ looked awkward. “Gotta run. Meetings and stuff.”
***
It waited until a victim passed – fat and sluggish. It pounced, slicing and ripping until it was dead. Then, more leisurely, slipped into it’s victim’s suit.
Now, it had a disguise.
It hurried to join the other platelets to see if it could pass a checkpoint. The others huddled together, allowing the virus to infect as many as it could. Even if the disguise failed, it might be able to slip though in the chaos.
By now the white cells would have been alerted to its presence. It could see them, squeezing into the tunnels it passed by, massing, deciding what action to take.
They descended on the newly infected, smothering them. The plan had worked perfectly and it passed by, unmolested.
***
Brian clutched his stomach and breathed in sharply. That was the second stabbing pain he’d had in the past 10 minutes. Maybe he should see a doctor.
He tried to stand, but a third stab kept him in his seat. He coughed, blinking hard.
***
It had made it through a sphincter.
The blood flow had picked up, now. It would almost be time to release its payload. Sloughing off the disguise, it pressed onwards, leaving its sickly trace on whatever it touched.
And, of course, the white cells followed.
***
Brian’s pain was moving from his stomach up to his chest. He was sweating profusely now, his shirt stuck to his chest and back, and he could feel the heat coming from him.
He had to get some water. Holding his stomach, he forced himself to stand up, and stumbled from his office towards the toilet.
***
It had changed form – spiky now, full of sharp points. After many mutations, and countless battles, it would win. This had been a fearsome foe, but nothing could stop it now.
It scrapped its way up a vein, making tiny incisions, causing Brian’s precious, if stupid, blood to lose its way, spilling through the rips.
***
Brian came to an abrupt stop. Coughed so hard it hurt his chest.
He lowered his hand from his mouth. It was speckled with blood.
***
Ground Zero. That repulsive, pumping mass of flesh. It had to time it’s run. It couldn’t afford to have got this far only to be crushed by a closing valve.
It waited.
***
Brian watched the room spin, and he pushed his pushed his hand to the wall to steady himself.
Darren came past again. Brian couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. All he could hear was the blood pumping through his ears but he assumed Darren was asking if he was ok.
***
Waited.
***
“Actually. I’m not. Could you -”
“Brian? Brian!. Quick – someone call a doctor!”
