The infected don't see the world the way we do. The virus doesn't make them murderers: it makes them terrified.
It's a complete reversal of the zombie paradigm: they're not predators, they're victims of their own distorted perception. Anger doesn't erase humanity: it buries it under layers of fear.
Kelson, with psychiatric drugs, doesn't "cure" Samson: he brings back fragments of who he was.
The cure becomes an ethical act, not a scientific miracle.
And Samson, in his liminality, is a powerful figure: no longer human, no longer infected, something that exists in-between.
He is the living symbol of the film's moral ambiguity.
Lock in darlings and reduce your expectations to 0 friends, for this is brainrot. This piece is for a friend whose theory is that the infected don’t harm or charge humans who don’t have weapons, I can’t with this guy and his massive dong !!
(Shoutout to the baddie @theabhartachsbride who loves this man and made this gif!)
WARNINGS: VIOLENCE / GORE / HEAVILY OOC / SA MENTIONED BUT NO GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OR DONE TOWARDS READER
Everyone did their part on the island to empower and help the community. There were hunters, scavengers, medics, cooks, weavers, and fishermen. But you were in a particular role that only 3 people had on the island, a researcher. You have basic medical and defense training but the main priority is being able to study the virus in a contained area off the island. This was decided as to avoid any sort of contamination within the community.
The group of 3 researchers consisted of yourself, an old man who records behaviors from returned scavengers or hunters, and the isolated Dr Kelson. He left the island to build his morbid temple among the infected on the mainland. Basically it was now up to you to provide studies of the infected on Holy Island.
Today you were trekking through the forest to pay a visit to Kelson. If you’re coming onto the mainland you might as well go see him. It’s been a while since you’ve given him a visit. What’s a few more miles from your research bungalow? Well…possibly your life. But that goes for any trip on the mainland. Holy Island lets people come and go, but once you’re on the mainland nobody will come for you if you don’t return.
The bone temple was just through the valley. You made the journey in half the time it normally takes any group. The encouragement being not having to sleep through infected screams all night by yourself. Listening to them hunt for food… When you stayed in your research shack you would hear the sprinting steps of infected chase any wildlife they could for food. Never closer than a mile away but you heard the hoard and the eventual cry of the animal they dismember.
Coming up on a flowing river, you reach for your bag to get a bottle and filter water for you and Kelson. The old man knows how to take care of himself, but it would be nice to offer him something when you arrive. Obviously he’s been around since the spread of the virus and has learned to coexist with the infected, but he rarely gets visitors.
Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the sounds of boots rustling up the stream. A group of scavengers, not from Holy Island or any group you recognize. They look like a band of lost boys with their clothes ripped and mix matched. They’re filthy, covered in grime and dirt from their travels. You freeze as one of them instantly spots you in the cattail brush.
“Well ‘ello there miss, trying to get a drink eh?”
They’re mainlanders, that's for sure. The bottle was close to full and you quickly put it in your bag and stood up from your crouched position.
You carried weapons not because you hunt the infected for sport, it mostly for other humans you come across. You’ve never had to use it before, but Jaime always warned it could be a possibility.
“Just passing through...” as you try to back up one of the men points his automatic rifle at you. You stop and raise your hands from your bow and arrows. They smirk at you and share glances with each other.
“You’re not going anywhere until we say lass. Put your bag and bow down and maybe we’ll let you leave alive.”
As if there’s any mercy in that. They would leave a survivor out here with no pack or weapons? Just shows the type they are, even in this world of hell.
You slowly remove your bag and bow and throw it over to them, sparing them the chance of getting close to you. Although your prayer of that vanishes as the man pointing a gun at you goes around to your back. You swallow down any saliva that has gathered in your mouth, refusing to show how terrified you are. Other hunters would share tales of bodies left behind, tortured while human and then used as beating bags when infected. This group probably does something akin to that.
One of them steps forward and grabs your bag, he’s tan but has blonde white hair. Seemingly the leader since he’s been the one talking at you. At first he flips through your bag and then decides to dump it onto the ground. Medicine supplies, first aid, snacks, and your dagger falls out. He raises a brow as he inspects the blade, surprised that a woman knows how to handle close combat.
“Where did you get those guns?” You inquire softly. Holy Island used to have guns, until realizing arrows are the weapon of choice when trying to avoid drawing unwanted crowds in. But theirs look somewhat new with only a bit of wear on them.
The blonde one seems to humor your question after taking your dagger into his back pocket.
“We took these off the bodies of a few army men closer to the shore. Some runners got to them before we arrived.”
He taps his back pocket where he placed your dagger as he eyes you. “I’ll be taking this by the way - we’ll let you keep your bow.”
You thought you were off the hook momentarily with most of your supplies. But the group is stunned as one of men’s ankles is grabbed, almost being gnawed on by a slow low. One of the many huge infected blobs that roam the forest. As the rest try to shoot at it, it scurries away letting out one of its piercing screams. Two of the men laugh making fun of the one who probably just soiled himself.
The man behind you lets out an annoyed sigh “Bran lets just move on, get on with it so we can leave.”
“Yeah, we gonna’ give her a proper goodbye,right?” Another one chirps.
Your blood turns cold and feels like pins have been struck through your body. Will you even have enough to live after they have brutalized you too?
The blonde one comes close to you and has the gun slinged over his head, hand in his ripped pants. In your terror of what's to come you yelp trying to move away from him before the man behind you punches you back to the blonde, who in turn also socks you. Surprisingly you stood through their blows, but your nose begins to bleed and your vision in one of your eyes is becoming shady. The blonde scoffs at you. He grabs you by the front of your shirt and lands another hit on your face.
“I think I might need some more help fellas!”
You hear their giddy movements as they approach, but all collectively freeze as a nearby roar echos through the forest. It was nothing like the scream from the slow low. This vibrated through your ears and skull. Everyone stood still until one of the men whimpers and yells “what the fuck was that! What are we gonna do!”
Their leader Bran seems stressed as well, he puts down his fist and throws you into a tree. You catch yourself barely before settling yourself against it. Your whole body hurts from the beating but your head feels like one big heartbeat throbbing and causing great pain.
There is no time for any of you to react as fast thudding footsteps come pounding towards you. A herd of infected swarm the men. They all scream as they are torn or bitten to shreds. You see splashes of red emit where the men’s bodies are ripped, followed by screams of agony and gurgles from infection. Those that had a head start ran away being chased down by their infected comrades and a few from the invading group, all the while leaving you to fend for yourself beaten against a tree.
But you aren’t alone. The alpha and a few other runners stayed behind.
“Shit.” You tense up at their gazes. The infected don’t eat people, they just want to spread the virus.
They haven’t started for you yet though...what could be keeping them?
Your stomach drops at the sight of the alpha approaching you. Feeling hopeless and adrenaline coursing through your veins, ready to activate but your body doesn’t allow for the energy output. Even though there’s hardly a chance you’re leaving here alive with no weapons, and less so against an alpha.
On Holy Island there was only the word of mouth that supplied you with knowledge of the variety among the infected. The slow lows, the runners, and the alphas. You’ve never encountered an alpha before, even traveling to the research shack. But Jaime and other scavengers had described of the variants they witnessed on the mainland. The title of alpha was given to an infected that seemed to lead the pack. If this guy standing before you was anything, he was definitely the leader of this infected group.
He looked every bit of wild man you could imagine. His hair and beard were one mess combined, and his eyes were bloodshot red. And like all the infected, he was…naked. Just another factor that unnerves you.
The alpha’s arms twitched, almost as if he was contemplating something in looking at you. He grits his teeth while his huge red eyes bore into you. This behavior was unusual compared to what you have heard. Jaime would tell you that any encounter with a herd and its alpha would be game over, unless you had the advantage of a good distance from them. If you weren’t in such a distressed state you would have a chance of running.
Your heart was beating out of your ass at this point. Sure, getting raped by a group of men and left to rot was a horrid way to go. But to be left to the infected? Also not a great way either.
As he grunts and growls at you, it all becomes too much for your mind to handle. Your body gives you the benefit of fainting before they terrify you any more. As your eyes roll back, your body goes limp and you head hangs forward.
The alpha continues forward and crouches down to your level.
He grabs you by the front of your jacket and lifts your body like a bag of rice.
He brings you closer to his nose to get a whiff of you. You don’t have the smell of an infected nor look like one. He doesn’t see you as a threat. You’re weak. You have nothing to warrant harm. The others had guns from the soldiers on the beach. Him and his group followed the men here, yet you are a new face he’s never encountered before. Most runners are mindless in who they are allowed to attack, but an alpha can recognize you if you have the displeasure of running into them again. He lifts you as he stands from his crouched position, swinging your body over his shoulder with ease.
The runners surrounding him chirp and grunt at him handling you. Will he turn you too? Or crush your skull?
He decides to take you to the human that is nearby. Where the white towers of skulls are located.
The alpha adjusts his hold on you and proceeds to March.
Thank god you were passed out. If you were awake and could smell the awful stench of body odor and shit on this man it would be more than enough to puke.
The alpha did not falter in his march while carrying you, the temple wasn’t far but any normal human would be exhausted carrying you this much. Once he sees the temple he growls at the runners following him to stay back. They flinch and cower behind the trees. Twitching their naked bodies while they wait.
He continues on until he’s at the trail of the temple. The alpha unceremoniously drops you to the ground as if you were already dead. But he knew you were alive. He stares at you for a few minutes before walking back to his group to hunt for their evening meal.
