I remember the first attack. Someone had gotten too close to one of the deer. His cries were heard, but help had not arrived in nearly enough time. When we found him, we saw the deer standing over his body, looking down at his corpse. A thick pool of liquid covered the man. It had a yellowish and black color which appeared to be a mixture of mucus and vomit. We witnessed the liquid, which we would later coin as the contagion, sliver into the man's mouth, seemingly moving on its own. The deer noticed our presence and looked up at us. We could see the deer's rib cage now, the bones protruding from its skin.

The patches of fur on its back and stomach were messy and soaked with blood. Several people passing by stopped and took notice of what had happened. Some screamed with horror, while others gagged at the ghastly sight. I covered my mouth with my hands, attempting not to get sick at the vomit-inducing scene before me.

Everyone winced as the deer took a step towards us, and then another. Then, it dropped to the ground, dead. The two bodies were soon surrounded by the morbidly curious spectators, everyone either whispering or calling for help. Our small town had never witnessed such a grizzly sight, and we had an extremely small law enforcement presence since, well, nothing ever happened here. I looked at the man once more. His mouth hung open, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

His body had been beaten and bruised, and his clothes had been torn from the several bites he had received. The mix of whispers and shouts all ceased as we took notice of a woman behind us. She didn't say a single word. Instead, she simply pointed towards the forest, and our heads swiveled around to face the woods. Dozens of pairs of glowing eyes could be seen from beyond the underbrush. Everyone fell silent, but only for a moment. My ears were once more pierced by the shrill shrieks produced from the crowd as the deer erupted from the bushes and sprang towards us, moving impossibly fast given their physical state. We all frantically sprinted in the opposite direction, shoving past one another and making their way towards their homes.

I saw the deer pounce onto my neighbors and stomp down on their chests, snapping bone and tearing open their victim's flesh with their teeth. The cries of those who were being attacked were quickly stifled by the deer crushing their throats with hefty hooves. I tried my best to keep my vision away from the hordes of monstrous animals attacking the people around me.

I could hear heavy heaving as the deer projectile vomited the contagion into the orifices of its victims, and the sound of screaming began to fade as the sickly animals caught up with us. Most of our town was infected that day. Our few police officers fired round after round at the deer but to no avail. I do my best to suppress the memories of the outbreak. To remember them is to bring forth such a heavy dosage of anxiety that my entire body quakes with terror.

The human bodies that littered the streets wouldn't stay deceased for long. I saw them lift themselves from the pavement and stretch their limbs. They stumbled around for a while before becoming stable and walking around town. When the infected are reanimated they act almost... normally. They converse with one another, and they're able to function properly despite their injuries. Others even made phone calls to what I assume were their friends and family. The point was null though. Nobody ever came to rescue us.