Jim sat next to Murphy in the CDC's common room, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at the man beside him. Murphy leaned back casually, his arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. The blue tint of his skin caught the dim overhead light, making him stand out even more than usual. To Jim, Murphy was like a beacon—his scent intoxicating, overpowering, and maddeningly enticing. Compared to everyone else in the room, whose presence felt like faint torchlights in the dark, Murphy's mere existence was a blazing inferno that Jim could barely resist.
Sweat beaded on Jim's forehead, his hands trembling slightly as he clenched them into fists against his thighs. The hunger gnawed at him, clawing at the edges of his sanity like a relentless itch. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. Murphy's scent was too much, too overwhelming. He wanted to devour him, to sink his teeth into that unearthly flesh and taste what his instincts screamed was salvation.
But then, without warning, a vision seized him. His eyes widened as the world around him blurred and shifted, replaced by a strange, otherworldly light. A booming voice echoed in his mind, resonating with a chilling authority.
"Leave this place," the voice commanded. "Hold off your hunger. There will be time to feast later."
Jim's breathing grew ragged as the vision continued. He saw himself standing before a growing crowd, their faces alight with a fervent devotion that mirrored his own hunger. The voice spoke again, quieter now but no less commanding.
"You are my prophet, Jim. You will spread the gospel and gather a flock of your own kind. But first, you must let the Anti-Christ live. Do not harm him yet. Let him leave this place, and when the time is right, you will bring judgment upon him."
The vision faded, leaving Jim gasping for air. He glanced around the room, his hands trembling. No one seemed to notice his struggle, their attention focused elsewhere. He looked at Murphy again, his eyes narrowing with a new, dark resolve.
"Not yet," Jim whispered to himself, his voice barely audible.
Meanwhile, Jacqui and Dr. Jenner exchanged a glance across the room, their shared secret unspoken but understood. The hunger had taken root in both of them, a gnawing need that grew stronger with every passing moment. They could feel it—the creeping, insidious desire for human flesh. And while they managed to mask it from the others, the strain was beginning to show.
Jacqui's gaze drifted to Carol, who was sitting quietly with Sophia beside her. Carol's face was pale, her tired eyes fixed on Sophia as the young girl chatted with Carl. To Jacqui and Jenner, she seemed vulnerable, an easy target. The decision was almost unspoken, a mutual understanding born from desperation. They needed to feed—just a little—to stall the hunger until they could fix the cure.
"Carol," Jenner said, his voice calm and professional. "Could we speak with you privately for a moment? It's about some of the test results."
Carol looked up, her brow furrowing slightly. "Of course. Sophia, stay here with Carl, okay?"
Sophia nodded, her small hands clutching Carl's as the two children continued their quiet conversation. Carol rose from her seat and followed Jenner and Jacqui into one of the adjoining rooms. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the rest of the group none the wiser.
Inside the room, Carol looked between Jenner and Jacqui, her expression wary but polite. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
Jacqui's smile was tight, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. "No, nothing… serious. We just need to go over a few things."
Jenner stepped closer, his face calm but his eyes betraying the storm within. "Carol, we appreciate your help in all of this. Truly. But…"
Before he could finish, the hunger surged forward, overwhelming their restraint. Jacqui lunged first, her hands gripping Carol's arms as Jenner moved in. Carol screamed, her voice muffled as Jenner covered her mouth with his hand. The two of them worked together, taking small bites, trying to control themselves even as the hunger threatened to consume them entirely.
Carol's struggles weakened as the moments passed. Her eyes widened in shock, tears streaming down her face. The betrayal was clear in her gaze as she looked at Jacqui, who couldn't meet her eyes.
"It's just… to stall," Jacqui whispered, her voice breaking. "We'll fix this. We will."
When it was over, Carol slumped to the floor, her breathing shallow but steady. Jenner and Jacqui stepped back, wiping their mouths with trembling hands. The hunger had receded, but the guilt remained, heavy and suffocating.
"She… she'll turn soon," Jenner said, his voice hollow. "We need to stay ahead of this."
Jacqui nodded, her face pale as she looked at Carol. "What do we do when she…?"
"We'll bring her back to the group," Jenner said, his tone flat. "We'll say she's fine. No one can know."
Hours later, Carol rejoined the group, her face pale and her movements slightly stilted. Sophia ran to her, wrapping her arms around her mother. "Mom, are you okay?"
Carol nodded, forcing a smile. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little tired."
The rest of the group barely noticed, their focus still on the implications of Jenner's cure. Murphy, however, glanced at Carol with a slight frown. Something about her seemed… off. But before he could dwell on it, Rick called the group to attention.
"We need to plan our next move," Rick said, his voice firm. "If this cure works, we need to figure out how to use it to help more people."
As the group began discussing their options, Jenner and Jacqui exchanged a glance. The hunger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. For now, they could control it. But how long would that last?
And Jim sat silently, his eyes flicking to Murphy every so often. The vision's words echoed in his mind, a chilling mantra he couldn't ignore.
"Patience, my prophet. Your time will come."