"As if clowns weren't scary enough already," Aaron said, finishing the paragraph on Stabby the Clown. He took another sip of his hot chocolate and placed the mug back on the table.

He turned the page, moving on to Entry #6. The one he was both looking for and not looking forward to.

The Zombification Process.

"Let's get this over with," Aaron groaned.

His eyes darted across the page past the author's darkly witty introduction paragraphs until he found the list of signs. An entire routine to how he would die. How'd he feel before he died. How he'll act before he dies. What he'll be hungry for as he dies.

The process of turning is surprisingly painless, or at least physically. Once bitten, be on the look out for any or all of these signs:

Moderate Signs:
• Paling skin
• Fast-healing injuries
• Inability to feel pain
• Fatigue
• Aggressive behavior
• Thoughts of cannibalism

Severe Signs:
• Violent outbursts
• Increased (and/or complete) loss of speech
• Colorless eyes
• Increase in strength
• Acts of cannibalism

Well, I'm screwed, Aaron thought with discouragement.

Despite the new healing factor that comes with the turning process, bite marks never heal, instead remaining on the body even after full revival as a Deadman. Scientists theorize that this is similar to the creation of a scar, especially from an infection or a burn. The penetrative force of the bite combined with the hazardous, flesh-eating cells of the Deadman infection leave behind a permanent mark on skin like a branding.

The process of turning can vary depending on where the bite is located. If the victim was bitten near vital arteries or organs, zombification can be completed in ten to twelve hours. Anywhere else can range from one to three days. However, there have been several instances of infections caused by Deadman blood entering open wounds.

I can relate, Aaron thought to himself.

In those instances, the infected blood's healing qualities can activate and heal whatever wound they enter. This can erase evidence of exposure, but it can still be confirmed through the victim's inability to feel pain. Depending on how much blood enters the body, the turning process can take longer. Three milliliters of Deadman blood injected from a medical syringe results in complete zombification within a week, but the longest recorded time was ten days. When the body was found, studies revealed less than a milliliter of infected blood entered a small cut on the man's hand that disappeared as soon as his blood was contaminated.

However, there is a way to speed up the turning process, not that anyone would want to do that. Despite the destruction of the pain receptors, it is still not healthy for an infected person to harm themselves. Not only will consistent harm damage the victim's mental health, rapid blood loss will make the infection spread faster due to the healing factor combined with the contaminated blood cells producing through the body. Once blood loss has surpassed Class IV Hemorrhage, the victim dies, allowing the infection to completely replace the bloodstream with contaminated cells.

After the contaminated blood cells reach the brain, the corpse will revive as a Deadman. Depending on what happened to him before his death determines whether he revives as a Commoner or an Abnormal.

Aaron quickly shut the book. He had all the information he needed for his last few days. Plus, he had a small notebook and a pencil in his back pocket for notes.

Nika reappeared behind him. "How are you doing, sweetie?" she asked, placing more books on the shelves.

"Okay, kinda," Aaron replied nervously. "Listen, I'm gonna take a walk, get some fresh air. I'm done with the book for now. You can read it if you want."

"All righty then. Are you finished with your drink?"

"Yeah, sure. But I seriously need to go now." Aaron jumped out of his seat and faced the nearest exit to the rest of the second floor. "Oops! Almost forgot."

He wrapped his arms around Nika and pulled her in for a kiss. He kept his lips pressed against hers a few seconds longer before slowly stepping away. She stared at him in a romantic daze, blushing with happiness.

"I'll be right back," Aaron said.

"You better be," Nika giggled while playing with her hair.

He gave her one more kiss on the cheek before heading toward the nearest door. He opened it up and exited the library, finding himself on a path overlooking the bottom floor.

"My girlfriend is in love with a zombie," Aaron sighed with disappointment. "Romance is weird."

He trudged down the path past a few flats. He spent most of his time staring at the floor with sadness, but he eventually made himself useful and pulled out his notebook and pencil. He flipped past a few pages covered in scribbles before stopping at the first clean page he found.

He quickly wrote down everything he could remember from the book. He check-marked every symptom of turning he could confirm. He even wrote down the estimated amount of time it would take for him to lose it.

Pale as hell. Check.

Healing power straight out of an X-Men comic. Check.

Can't hurt. Check.

Need sleep. Check.

Tried to fucking kill someone. Check.

He paused in front of an open window to flip to the next page. He continued with his notes.

Average amount of time before turning: 1 to 3 days. Not bitten, so slight chance it will take longer.

Fastest time: 10 to 12 hours. I was asleep for that long, so I might be safe for a while.

Longest time: 7 to 10 days. Most likely.

Whatever you do, DON'T LOSE TOO MUCH BLOOD!!!

He placed his pencil back in his pocket and held out his left hand. He stared at his palm, where his cut used to be. He pondered how much blood entered his wound when that White Scythe died and splattered its vitals all over him.

From what he could recall, most of the blood drenched his clothing and his face. He remembered a few small particles getting near his hand, but he didn't think it made it in. Sure, the wound was long and unprotected, but he was seriously unlucky to have been touched by Deadman blood in that one spot.

"I found him!" someone shouted from the bottom floor. "I found O'Connor!"

"Kill him!" shouted another, more familiar voice. Rupert.

The sound of a gun firing filled the air, and a bullet dug straight through Aaron's hand. Since he left it hanging in the air, it was basically an easy target.

He fell back and crashed against the wall. His head went through the open window and he had a view of the barren world outside. Lonely green fields surrounded the tower.

He returned his sight to the deep red hole in his left hand. He could see straight through it like if it were a keyhole. And if it were, there was definitely someone at the door.

Rupert and his cronies had their eyes on Aaron. Each one stared at him with anger, as if he ruined their lives. But the one who looked broken the most was Rupert. Not only did he stare with a look that could kill, he was different from the last time Aaron saw him.

He looked just like him. Pale, fatigued, yet somehow in worse condition than Aaron. He was aiming a sniper rifle at Aaron, but it was obvious he was struggling to hold it up. An elastic wrap was tied around the bite mark on his fist, blood seeping through the bandage.

"What the hell?" Aaron said, noticing Rupert's state.

Rupert fired the gun again. This time the bullet tore through Aaron's chest, breaking through his spine and exiting through his back. As usual, none of it hurt, but a wave of coldness filled his body.

He couldn't feel anything. His arms and legs went numb.

Aaron fell back. Out through the open window. Out of the tower. Down two stories.

The cool air blasted against his clothes as he flipped over the edge out into the Dead Zone. He couldn't even scream. Not only did the cold feeling of paralysis prevent him, he also didn't fall that far.

His legs were the first things to make impact with the ground. Loud cracking noises echoed through the plains as his legs shattered against the grass. The rest of his body plopped to the ground, pounding against his back with enough force to blast all the oxygen out of his lungs. He remained on the ground as he felt the nerves in his spine reconnect.

After a small tickle traversed through his back to indicate his healed spine, he jerked up, keeping himself up with his arms. He looked down at the mangled mess that was his broken legs. They were both bent in disturbing positions, and the bone stabbed straight out of his left leg. The hole in his chest was close to vanishing entirely, but now he had a dark red hole in the middle of his shirt.

Aaron dragged himself to the wall of the tower and leaned against it. He watched as the fractured bones in his legs shifted and clicked back into place. Even though it didn't hurt, he still winced with every loud click, like if his bones were a puzzle solving itself.

He could still hear Rupert and his cronies through the walls of Matheson. There seemed to be an issue going on in there.

"Someone hold my gun," Rupert said, his voice muffled by the walls. "I don't feel good."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" one of the other DZI asked.

"I...don't..."

Aaron could hear a loud but brief thump, which he assumed was Rupert collapsing to the ground.

"Now what?" the same DZI said.

"I dunno," another replied. "He looked healthy-ish a second ago."

"What do you mean healthy-ish?"

"Look at him. He looks like a damn Deadman, pale skin and all."

"Whatever. Let's just get him back to headquarters."

The last thing Aaron could hear was the sound of Rupert's body scraping against the pavement as the other DZI soldiers dragged him back to the headquarters. Not a single word was said, aside from a few grunts.

Aaron returned his view back to his healing legs. He could feel that the fractures had vanished, but his bones were still trying to reconnect with each other. The torn piece of flesh where the bone cut through fused back onto the rest of his leg like a bandage. He still couldn't stand up.

In the distance he saw the silhouette of what looked like a person. They seemed to be walking with a limp, as one foot dragged against the ground while the other lifted with each step.

It didn't take long Aaron to realize what he was staring at.

The "person" emitted a loud, horrifying screech. Aaron couldn't get a clear look at his face, but he could see his mouth open, revealing sets of malnourished teeth.

"Oh shit."

The creature bolted straight at him, hissing with hunger as drool flew out of its mouth. Aaron pushed himself up against the wall as quick as he could, but he only slid back down.

He checked all of his pockets and looked around to look for something that could be used as a weapon. All he could find were a few useless rocks.

The creature was moving in fast. Drool still dangled out of its mouth as it moved in on its next meal.

"Stay back!" Aaron shouted, raising a rock off the ground.

With those words, the Deadman stopped in front of Aaron, standing with a surprisingly straight posture. Dry blood covered most of its shirt and the left sleeve lazily dangled off the rest of the shirt by a thread. Its hair was a brown mess of strands standing up all over its head and its clothes were torn and tattered.

Aaron stared into its dead, blank eyes. He expected it to eat him alive as soon as it found him, but the creature somehow seemed harmless. There wasn't an expression of hunger-fueled rage on its cold pale face.

It seemed sympathetic. Maybe even comforting.

"Sorry, mate," the Deadman said in perfect English. "I just wanted to help."