Security arrived moments after Stephanie’s breakdown, and the police arrived 5 minutes after that. By the time the paramedics arrived, Mr. Owen had gone into deep shock. The paramedics weren’t sure if he would make it to the hospital. A second team treated Stan’s arm. They suggested he go to the hospital, but he refused. He had a terrible dislike for hospitals; feeling that they where sick people went to die.
The police detectives that questioned him were looking for answers he didn’t have. They questioned more people as they arrived at work. Everyone was in wonder that Dr. Goodson could do such a thing. The police cordoned off the third floor. Stan’s boss arrived, and after talking to the police walked over to Stan. After shaking his hand, he told Stan to go home, and call in Monday. The police detective gave him a card and told him to call him, if he could think of anything else. By 1PM, Stan was sitting alone in is 2 room apartment. Stan sat there waiting for the shock of the day’s events to sink in. By 5PM, he had felt nothing. He actually had begun to feel anxious. "It’s Friday, time to get going," he thought to himself. After showering, he packed a bag, as he did once every month, and headed out the door.
Stan spent the night, and next day wandering around Manhattan. He always enjoyed these trips, because he always saw something new. After a long day, he went back to his hotel. He was feeling a little ill, and wanted to rest, before "his girl" showed up. Candi arrived at 8PM sharp. He had been with her before and despite feeling ill, was looking forward to the things she could do with her tongue. Stan laid the money on the dresser and then proceeded to partake in his monthly ritual.
The sex was labored. Candi pretended that it as the best she had ever had, as she did for every trick. She could not help but think that his heavy breathing was indication of him being sick. When his forehead touched her chest, she couldn’t miss the heat caused by a fever. Stan’s body tensed as he finished his business with her. After a bit, Candi got up from the bed and went to the restroom. Normally, she would take the man’s condom off, and disposed of it. This night was different. Stan always paid extra for a prostitute that would not make him wear one. Candi knew the risks involved, but the extra money, and the fact that she could not have children made it worthwhile.
After washing herself, she began to reapply her makeup. She could hear a racking cough from the other room. "Honey", she called, "I hope you didn’t give me that crap you got. If you did, I’m gonna have to cut you off." There was no answer. She finished and came out of the bathroom. Stan had already fallen into a restless sleep. She took the stack of money and stuffed it into her bra. She found his wallet and checked to see if there was any more there. It was empty; she tossed it back onto the dresser with a sigh. Unknown to her, though, Stan had given her more than just a nights pay. The virus from the Orpheus Serum, which the good doctor had transferred to him, was now working its way through her body. Adjusting herself, she left the room. There was a convention across town, and she wanted to make it over there, before all the horny conventioneers had blown their wads, so to speak.
Candi made it to the convention, and had at least 5 more paychecks that weekend. By the time she was finishing with the last trick on Sunday evening, Stan lay wheezing in his rented bed. His forearm was festering, and he had an extreme fever. He was too weak to even call for help. By the time Candi was at home showering, Stan was dead, ravaged by the Orpheus virus, and her weekend tricks were on their way home. Several of the conventioneers had dipped into other women, and shared the present that Candi had given them. As she read the Sunday paper that night, she saw an interesting story about a crazy man from Chicago, who had been pronounced dead at a Long Island hospital, only to get up and attack several hospital workers, before being killed. She had no way of knowing but Stephanie Nielson lay dieing in a hospital bed as well. By Monday morning, there would be another story, asking how it could happen twice, as a young woman in the same hospital had attacked and either killed or wounded several people.
The manager of the hotel Stan had been staying in would be dead by Monday afternoon, and 3 others would be in the hospital with bites. Candi would read about the attack in Tuesday’s paper, but had no idea that Stan was involved. On Wednesday afternoon, she was cursing Stan, as she had begun to feel a little under the weather. She pulled a couple of escorts that night but hung it up early. By the time she took to her bed several of the conventioneers had passed Orpheus to their wives. One of the wives had additionally given the secret gift to her tennis instructor.
On Friday night, Candi took her last breath. By the next evening, there had been reports of crazed, cannibalistic attacks in several cities. One of those stories involved an escort worker in New York City who had attacked and killed 3 people and sent 5 to the hospital, before being killed herself. News of these attacks was overshadowed by a major power outage on the East Coast and events overseas. It wasn’t for another week that authorities began to become alarmed by these attacks. By that time it was too late, Orpheus had already slammed into humanity with a vengeance.