Plodding through the hall of bile and blood, Dr. Nathan tried to ignore the moans. This was not an easy task, considering the violent coughs, profuse vomiting, and pleas for help. These difficulties are amplified even further by the fact that people were crammed together on stretchers in the hall, clogging it in people, vomit, and crimson. Virus. That was what was mainy clogging these halls, the damn virus. Liquidating the innards, converting more virus bodies. Unstoppable...

Reaching his destination, Nathan took a deep breath through his gas mask and checked the timer on his watch. 23:45. He needed to be ready to change tanks during the operation. Opening the sealed door, Nathan quickly stepped in and closed it quickly. Turning to the table, he almost vomited in the mask. 

The thing that was a man laid upon that table, cut open in half. It seemed as if someone scooped up some of the black vomit from the hall and just filled this man to the brim. What was left of the organs seemed to peek out like islands, pulsating islands. Moving carefully, Nathan inserted a needle into what used to be the man's functional heart and extracted a dark crimson liquid. Removing the needle, Nathan walked over a starkly contrasting white table, covered in tools. Releasing a drop on a Petri dish, Nathan looked at the computer screen, showing the virus move quickly, still devouring cells. The antibodies didn't even slow it down.

Nathan looked at the body of virus on the table. The man had hoped the artificial antibodies in his body would save his life. Shaking his head, Nathan picked up the Cleaner. Aiming the nozzle at the failed cure, Nathan shot controlled napalm until the body was a literal crisp. Sighing, Nathan sat against the wall, head in hands, and weeped.

Nathan left his failure behind twenty minute later, walking down the hallway to his boss's office, opening the door he saw a limp body, revolver loosely hanging from her hand. Her once beautiful face blown to pieces. The virus didn't care. Even though the body has been decomposing the virus still attempted to convert the body. Reaching over, Nathan gently took the revolver and looked out the window to the street below.

Car crashes were evident, as were the destroyed bodies. Black blood. The failed CDC barricade. Gun shots used to be evident, as a desperate attempt to contain the virus. A few days ago it was helicopters, disposing of blocks of the city in ways similar to how he disposed of the body. Now he was waiting for the sound of jet engines. 

Project Clean Slate. Discussed just weeks ago in theory. The final solution, man even then it sounded bad. If the then small but deadly virus spread quickly, the host bodies would have to be destroyed. They tried the flamethrowers, they tried the napalm. One more thing they had left. Looking down at the revolver in his hand, then back at his former boss, Nathan sighed and removed his gas mask, no longer caring for the safety. Setting the revolver down, Nathan decided that he wasn't going to give the virus another body.

Nathan finished stripping the biohazard suit off as he stepped outside into the world. Checking his watch, it was a quarter to seven. They were late. Looking towards the sky, he wondered how far he would be from the bomb. He was right outside the hospital, which was filled like a glass holding paint. He should be close enough. In the distance, a humming could be heard. 

Nathan spread open his arms, waiting. Clean Slate. What was better than Napalm? Atomic power. The jets grew louder. Anyone in the initial blast radius would die quickly. Probably. Closing his eyes, he started to feel his muscles sap. The virus seemed to be desperate. Acting fast. Louder. Jets louder. His heartbeat was in his ears. Louder. Arms still wide and eyes still closed. Over him. Nathan yelled out one final phrase "May I be remembered not as a failure, but as a man!" Nothingness.

"Another city was wiped away tonight. Having been seen as a viral hotspot, the U.S. government has incinerated the entire city to prevent further spread. Pilots report a man who stood in front of the hospital, arms spread as if to embrace to upcoming planes. No identity can be confirmed. In other news, five more cases in Houston have been confirmed..."