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Here's the bit that started it all:

Time. He was running out of time. He managed to choke down another pill before he had to roll to the right, and vomit over the side of his bed. He rolled to the other side, and off. He struggled to his feet, using the wall as support, he staggered to where he had pinned the demon to the wall. The marks had spread, from where it had bitten him on the arm, to his shoulder. The limb was covered in a livid, scarlet swirling pattern, constantly shifting, spreading. He knew what he had to do, if he didn't act now he would become one of them, the things that he had sworn to kill. There was no vaccine. The only cure is death. He passed the body of his love, a gaping hole in her chest where she had shot herself rather than become a Kitaze. Kitaze... just thinking the name stimulated the virus. It had reached his head now, and he was beginning to hear them. Whispers, evil, worming whispers, whispers of a mind incomprehensible to him. His mind shied away from it, skittering like a horse from a loud noise. Fear and desperation lent him strength as he wrenched his sword from the body of the demon. As it fell, he took a last look the last of his ancient foes, lidless sockets sheltering golden orbs, skin the color of infected flesh covering bony spines and muscles. Well, not quite the last.. he thought to himself, readying the sword. Now comes the easy part... Right? he gazed on the remains of his love, supine in death, knowing that they would be together soon.