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You reach a long barricade of thorns on the other side of the wall. They seem to be moving, pulsating with a life of their own and gift out a strange light. Flowers begin to bloom on the wall. When you press your hand against one, you are immediately assaulted with a strange vision (roll 1d6 to see what it is).

3. You fight against humans, but this time they are armed. Their weapons hurt. You are frustrated. They are eligible, but none of them will truly accept your wisdom. You kill many without ever feeling accepted. The feeling continues until the vision is over.

Refusing to enter the hospital was a given, if there was one way to become further infected Gilda reckoned, it was to go into the very hub of the outbreak, so she simply didn't, trying to find some other way around it, some way that involved not going inside the looming building. When she found a dead end wreathed with thorns, she wasn't sure what to make of it, it did not look like any natural plant she had ever seen, and for a moment she was sure that it had to be artificial, some kind of decorative or staged thing. But it was so out of place here, with the dilapidation of everything else all around that she had to know.

She reached out and as her fingertips reached the plant, she gasped and found herself somewhere else.


They wouldn't LISTEN. She wanted to help them, she wanted to give to them wisdom and all they gave her was pain in return, it was so gut wrenchingly hopeless and she didn't understand. The weapons were agony but they were nothing in comparison to the agony of rejection, of being misunderstood and unwanted.

She roared and it was anger and pain intertwined, slamming down a lethal limb on the fragile and ignorant things, if they saw perhaps they would understand, perhaps somehow they would know.

But they just died, they died ignorant and it made the others angrier still. She howled and it was hopeless, so very very hopeless.

When she came back to her senses she fell to her knees breathless and not sure what she had just witnessed.

The thorns weren't normal at all.

Out from the fog, a tall figure came lumbering towards Gilda while she was by the thorny plant.

"Gilda," the figure growled out. Upon coming in close enough to see, a familiar male face would soon become apparent. He was completely covered in blood, and it seemed that parts of him had begun to decay. A sort of feral look in his eye... no, eyes. Where an eyepatch normally was, his right eye could be seen, burning green. A sniper rifle of sorts was carried in his hands, and the way he had approached was... somewhat hostile.

"Join me, or DIE!" he roared, his voice sounding distorted, just before launching himself at the woman.

She stood, rattled and still with memories clinging to her that weren't entirely her own, disorientated about who she was or even where she was. There was only a thin sliver of time to even begin to get her bearings when a figure approached, forcing her to tense. There was a moment when she thought that maybe she was all right, that somehow the warden had simply found her, that he'd found some place they could go for sanctuary, to regroup.

But there was something wrong about the way he moved, there was something very wrong about the blood. She faltered, and it was a good thing that she did, resisting the desire to rise and gratefully go to the other man just long enough to realise that something was wrong.

It wasn't long enough to stop herself from being attacked. She cried out in surprise and pain as she was, staggering back confused and wounded, suddenly aware that there were two figures struggling in the fog and not even sure if either of them, if any of this was even real.

One of them sounded like Ras, but she'd been hearing voices all night, it didn't MEAN anything, he wasn't here.

She drew her knife anyway, afraid she might regret this, and struck out as best she could.

"I ALREADY JOINED YOU." she snapped irritably. "BUT IM NOT BECOMING A MONSTER." There was something shrill about her voice, defiant but uncertain, a mere front to try and stop herself from completely losing control.

HP: 45
DMG: 2


Infection count : 30

"Th-the Warden!" Ras exclaimed, starting like he'd been shocked and pulling the knife free of the shadowy blur's shoulder. "Sorry, s-sorry, I....what's...there's something in...in your head," he whispered, knocked back onto the ground, his own head whirling in confusion.

"Gilda," he plead, needing more than ever instruction. This was the man who had kept her safe during that long month since the outbreak, who had kept order, who was the lynchpin of the prison.

"What's wrong with him? What do we do?"

Insanity: 25/100
HP: 40/50
Dmg: 1

The Boss reeled back this time around, after having been struck again. That green eye of his flared brightly in anger. Blood, real blood, dripped onto the ground where he stood.

"I will get you yet... All will join me. There is no other way," he muttered while backing away.

It didn't take long before his figure was lost in the fog. Something else fell to the ground at his feet. Was that a flashlight?

Gilda bent to retrieve the flashlight, reaching out to touch the blood while she was there, concerned by the fact she had been apparently dealing with two real people and upset by the fact that she could not seem to tell the difference any longer.

She shone it first in the direction the warden had gone, as if it would do anything, as if it would tell them anything about what had happened to the man and why he had come after them but there was nothing but the swirling fog.

Next she shone it at Ras, who did not seem to disappear or change when she did so.

"I lost you too." she said, sounding grim and defeated. "And I feel like I'm losing more than that Ras."