You are bitten.
A large hunk has been taken out of your abdomen.
Blood and guts flow from your gaping wound.
You try to stuff the guts back in, but it is an incomplete success.
Your head itches.
You scratch it, and now you have your own blood in your hair. You're a mess.
You stumble over to the first aid kit, but you stub your toe, and trip.
You land flat on your ass, and your gooey insides splatter on the cold floor.
With your own blood, you spell out these words, your last message to humanity, on the floor nearby: