Memory begins in a bed, next to someone I no longer remember. We talk for a while, the scene is intimate. Thirst washes over me, so I conjure up my strength and leave her and the warm bed behind.
As I walk through the empty hallway on what appears to be a secluded lodge far up the mountain, I can feel the thick white snow falling outside its protective walls. I approach a door and the noise emitted reminds me where the rest resides.
I enter what appears to be a recreation room: A bar is installed, surrounded by tables and chairs. The room is utterly crowded, the sound of chatting, laughter, rattling of cutlery and of glasses and bottles fills everything. The noise level is unreal. Everyone around is cheerful and at ease. Some I even recognise and I realise that I am on a holiday trip with friends and acquaintances somewhere in the mountains.
I squeeze my way through the crowd, fighting my way towards the bar for something to drink. Two people engaged in a lively and loud conversation, both with a mug of beer in their hand, block my way. As I squeeze my way through, tucked, half crouched, I realise two facts.
First. Our reason for fleeing the buzzy city to a secluded lodge was not out of desire for holiday and an opportunity to party. In addition, or rather instead, we were fleeing not just the city, but rather a contagious disease which emerged and massively spread within the past few days. This disease transformed those infected into beasts, highly aggressive and hostile against all forms of life. The infection first removes all signs of life from the one infected and leaves behind an idle, unmoving husk. Then the beast emerges. This happens within minutes. The main route of transmission is via shellfish, more precisely prawns.
Second. The dinner I skipped comprised prawn.
These facts, while swiftly thought, did take up some moments of time. I was still tucked in-between both guests, one to my front and one to my back, a mug still raised over my head and still in the process of loudly proclaiming some toast. As if I had worn hearing protectors or large headphones and was now taking them off, my sensory perceptions slowly came back, uncovering the noises of this previously buzzy recreation room. Like snapping out of a daydream. My eyes started to re-focus and I began to perceive the room again.
To find utter silence. Everyone froze. Mid-scene, mid movement. A former colleague still leaning forward towards the bar. The expressions on their faces were empty, frozen.
The next memory is me dashing through the hallway, rushing into the room and barricading the door. The noises which followed relieved me of this dream.