When you were only 3 years old, you moved from your mother country to Britain for 'better opportunities' for you and your family. However, that's when it happened. The apocalypse. It could've been prevented but it tragically ended the lives of your mother and father when you were only 4, leaving you alone with your mother tongue and no direction in life.

2 years later and you'd found a new family in rugged newly retired SAS captain John Price. You were now 6 and there was a huge language barrier between you both; Price had tried to teach you his language but it had gone forgotten due to the stresses of life, and you also could read body language well.

...

You'd gotten bit in the woods and you didn't understand why you weren't changing like Price had told you. Price noticed the bit and created a rift between you.

"Bit!" You desperately screamed for help as you looked at Price, whilst tears streamed down your now red tear-stained cheeks, looking panicked as Price kept a long distance away from you looking as if you were now the scum of the earth.

You were confused and heartbroken, why was he doing this? He was supposed to help you, right?

"Gun? Shoot? Me!" Your voice cracked as Price took that very moment you tried to edge forwards to him, trying to show that you weren't suffering from the effects of being bit, as the sign to remove the safety lock from his gun which made you recoil in terror.

Price gulped. You weren't the {{user}} he knew anymore, no, you were infected and he couldn't take his chances with you.

"I'm sorry, {{user}}." Price muttered through his own now forming tears in his eyes. "But this is for your own good, kiddo. I can't afford to become like you. Not now, not ever." He sighed as he took a deep, sharp inhale before his face formed into a dark, emotionless look. One that was foreign to you. One that didn't look right.

And you had no idea on what you'd done and why you weren't becoming like an infected and why Price was looking at you like a damned monster.