1 Prologue: In the Garden of Eden

At the edge of the town, tucked in was a glade with a brook blue as the sky. One green tent seemed to grow out the ground, as weed crept on it. Around it, empty bottles of beer were lying, as a gust of wind pushed one of them in the water. The rising sun gave a reddish tint above. Limping out of the tent was a girl with a vibrant yellow tied shirt, rubbing her head with her pink hair, her name was Lisa. Barefoot, she walked between the bottles, missing to get her feet cut at each step.

Still buzzed, her friend, Owen, was in the tent. Suddenly, through her blurry vision, Lisa spotted a brown coat on a rock, so fancy, as if it had practically been left here for her to catch. Slowly, she came closer to it, the coat became bigger. Now it had grey-ash pants. She could nearly smell the fabric. It now had two black boots, almost like hooves. About to touch it, she saw two ebony gloves. It was a man, dead.

His blood was dropping in the brook, tainting it. With a feeble voice, Lisa called Owen's name but he was too tipsy to hear her. The wind was perhaps strong, but she swore that he moved. He was breathing, but not normally. As if fleas were dancing through his skin. A dry growl was released from his mouth as the man opened his eyes, yellow as the ones of a goat. Startled, Lisa slowly walked back to the tent, her gaze fixed on the strange man. Focused, she could not see the shard of glass under her left foot, as she stepped on it. She screamed before tripping on the ground, holding her injured foot.

The man, foaming, hobbled toward her, so quick that he was making the ground tremble. Lisa yelled at Owen to help her, but the leper-like stranger was already on her, trying to sink his dark teeth into her skin. His groaning, more akin to a dog, blended with Lisa's screams, struck Owen in the ears. Aimlessly rushing out of the tent, he saw Lisa, struggling with the zombie. Half-relieved, Lisa called out Owen's name, only to sense a sharp pain in her left wrist, she got bitten. She shouted, louder than she ever did, as the man tore the flesh out. Startled, Owen grabbed his skateboard and hit the creature, pushing him to the side, and smashed his skull until its mutt barking stopped, blinding his vision with anger and the splattering blood.

Putting a bandage around her injury, Owen put his arms around Lisa and headed to his car, driving to the local hospital. Lisa was pale, black veins snaking around her bite.

"Don't worry, you're going to be alright."Said Owen.

Eyes on the road, he failed to see that his friend was no more. Snarling like a feral banshee, she lunged at Owen and gnawed at his neck. As he was trying to protect himself with his hands, he drove right into a lamp post. Pushing his door, Owen fell on the ground. Looking behind, he saw Lisa with her face into the windshield, pierced by the glass.

Owen limped between the streets, among other creatures, the air could hardly flow. His gaze fixed on each of them, he did not expect that they would pass past him. His surprise was soon drowned by a feeling of hunger, he needed to eat. Unable to communicate anymore, he looked for the only thing his brain was urging for, living flesh. In front of the hospital, he perceived a tall man, bulkier than him. But it did not matter to him, he felt energy inside which him stronger now. Lunging at the man, he felt a curious taste in his mouth, savor of sour vinegar, blood. His own blood.

A black and protuberant thorn was bursting out of the man's right arm, dark veins running across his skin, his eyes of the same color. The black thorn was pointing at the sky, passing through Owen's skull. Effortlessly, the man pulled his spike out of the inferior infected like a corkscrew, looking at his dead body with contempt. Concentrating, the man shifted to a human form. Looking at a window for his reflection, he smiled, satisfied.

Ambling away inside the hospital, he left Owen's body laying on the floor, crows pecking his rotting flesh and cutting the string of the cross around his neck.

The crucifix fell in the grass, untouched by the blood, while the brook of the glade flowed with.