Plant Zombies: An Introduction
As we all know, every life form on the cradle of trollkind is worth researching, but the family of the blood plants (devorator sanguinis) is one of its most fascinating ones, and therefore also one of its most disputed. As one of the multitude of causes for zombyism and unable to grow without a supply of troll- or animal tissue, yet still able to photosynthesize, it’s widely argued that they’re hemiparasites, although their actual relationship with their host body after death is more mutualistic – the plant keeps the troll’s body seemingly alive, and protects them from all sorts of other illnesses and parasites by filtering their blood. It’s therefore hard to draw a clear line in the fine beach stones, and the term forced mutualism has been proposed as a compromise in more recent sweeps.
(AN: That term really started more arguments than it ended.)
Spread and progression of an infection
For zombification to take place, parts of the plant need to first be inhaled, which means that D. sanguinis is exclusively airborne. Once a flower has been pollinated, either through bugs or manually by two hosts, it starts releasing its microscopically small, hooked seeds. Think of cling plants, and then imagine them infinitely smaller and hurled at you at half the speed of sound.
An extreme closeup of two seeds. (x)
Once inside a suitable host and in contact with the soft tissue of the breathing system, these seeds will then dig their hooks into it and begin to grow their roots, so called haustoria, in search of blood. Here, d. sanguinis will then release a highly potent toxin, designed to stop the host’s blood pusher before the left over white blood cells can get rid of the little saplings. Symptoms at this first and only stage include fever, nausea, vomiting, chest pain, and, of course:
Once the host has drawn their last breath, the plant springs to action a second time. Without white blood cells to remove them again, it begins to draw its fine roots along blood vessels and through muscles, forming a network through the entire body.
Wherever these roots find skin, they will break through and begin sprouting leaves for photosynthesis, which is one of the clearest signs of infection to the inexperienced beholder. The most common places for this are the wrists and the neck, or any surfaces that point towards the sun, such as shoulders or parts of the face.
Examples of different forms while in bloom. Left, d. s. mimosa, right, d. s. rafflesia. (x, x) (AN: I hope whoever took these was vaccinated.)
Once it has gathered enough nutrients, the plant begins stimulating the roots around the host’s lungs as well as their heart through rapid plant movement – the body starts breathing and having a pulse again.
Next, the plant will perform a miracle of evolution: It will release a surge of adrenaline straight into the blood stream, which will startle the troll ‘awake’ and kick-start a myriad of other processes.
Thanks to d. sanguinis constant filtering and antibacterial properties, there are rarely any signs of decay at this point, but the victim’s thinkpans being without oxygen for nights, sometimes even weeks, means that the infected might be moving again, but aren’t alive in the widest sense of the word.
(AN: Yes, your quad is dead. Get over it.)
Once the plant is done growing, it has usually used up a big part of the nutrients of its host, and even the carbohydrates that it discharges back into the blood stream cannot stave off the hunger that the freshly deceased will wake up to once they’re back to unlife.
To direct this hunger towards the preferred source of food, namely trolls, d. sanguinis releases some of the emergency rations it saves in bulbs in the body, together with ghrelin, a hormone that suggests hunger to the body, and beluanine, which seems to be unique to organisms like d. sanguinis or the infamous zombie fungi, and triggers an extremely specific craving for troll flesh.
Another change is that plant zombies can detect other members of its species from up to two miles away, and will gravitate towards them so they can form a horde. While trolls are largely solitary outside of their quadrants, zombies seek out other zombies to bond with, and they hunt, eat, and sleep together.
Simplified distribution of zombies in a West Alternian area, exact location omitted. Note how none of them are solitary. (x)
It’s even theorized that these hordes can communicate among themselves through certain smells and plant pheromones, although scienterrorists are still in the dark on how exactly these pheromones are decoded by the hosts.
One possible theory is that this happens through hormones, which d. sanguinis normally replicates to ensure optimal conditions for itself. When a plant gets enough sunlight and nutrients, for example, it will excrete serotonin, dopamine, and even oxytocine. When the host or someone else damages the plant or the tissue around it, it will excrete adrenaline.
Eventually, the host will learn to associate satisfying the plant’s needs with being satisfied themself, and d. sanguinis can start releasing these hormones in much smaller quantities. Instead, it will focus its energy on growing blossoms, so that the cycle can start anew, and more trolls can be assimilated into the shambling hordes of the undead.
