(no subject)

[recompose]

I was never going to hurt any of you.

It's been difficult for science to determine these things - how nothing works in the undead save for their brains and digestive system, which only does enough to keep them moving without anything else to power their limbs, their minds. Several scientists have studied them, and almost all of them disagree on their conclusions. Then there's rest of the world, most of which doesn't give a damn and only wants to find a way to stop them from infecting anyone else. A lot agree that the best solution is to just cut their heads off and call it a day. Crane supposes he had a normal life. Boring. He was a nurse, working shift after shift, practically already a specter to his own family. People would say he was forgetful, always tired. Sometimes they made jokes about it, to mask their disappointment whenever he was a no-show. He never had a lot of friends, just colleagues. He regrets that now, but he also thinks that it would've only given him more relationships to mourn. He got infected treating an undead man that hadn't realized he'd died. He didn't have the mark, so Crane didn't realize it either; not until he was bit. They were quick to handle the situation, while Crane was pushed to the back with a horrible wound. They cut the undead man's head off right away, right in front of everyone; afterwards Crane had to sit down with a lot of people and sign a lot of papers requiring that he carry around a document stating that he was infected. They let him keep his job, but everybody around him changed. He doesn't know how long it took him to die when he got hit by the car. He just remembers waking up in a quarantined facility, built for the newly undead. They gave him a day to learn all the rules. He didn't get to see his family before he was shipped off to the outskirts of his city. He hasn't seen them since. He used to be religious. Maybe not like other people; he'd pray to Raphael, the healer. It had made sense to Crane at the time, so desperate to heal everyone himself, working hour after hour at the hospital. His one friend and mentor was Kathleen Jorgensson, believing in everything that he did. She was so incredibly damaged in her need to help everyone that it inspired Crane to do the same. He wonders about her. If she still believes. He doesn't, not anymore. Not until a man just like him comes along, with powers like he's never seen. He is alive and well; his name is Santiago and he wishes to help.