[ WP ] A villian who thinks he 's a hero realizes he 's the villian . What is he thinking ?

I started off with an idea, and then this happened: 
 
 What…what have I done? 
 
 I fall to my knees on the soot covered ground, a ground that was once elevated hundreds of feet into the air only moments ago. My ears dimly process the sounds of nuclear warning sirens overlapping the agonizing cries of thousands, my state of mind in an entire universe millions of light years away. I am no longer in the middle of an air raid but instead a bright -- too bright -- white conference room. Everything is white and chrome, polished to a sheen that burned the retinas. The guttural shrieks of pain that tore at my ear drums were replaced with light chatter. The memory snaps into place with an audible click. It is now five years earlier. 
 
 Sweat beads my brow as I realize all chatter subsided, every eye in the room on me. These familiar faces are smiling at me, anticipating my response but to what exactly, I do n't know. I have no idea how I'm here and not in the current time. 
 
 `` Could you repeat the question?'' I ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 
 
 `` That's quite all right, Mr. Burns,'' the presenter -- a tall, well dressed man wearing a lab coat over his finely pressed suit -- chuckled. It was Dr. V -- his real last name was too convoluted for me to bother with learning its pronunciation. `` I was just asking if anyone had any questions regarding Project S.a.?'' 
 
 Ah, it's all coming back to me now. This fateful night, a deal was made. Our antibacterial lifestyle has taken its toll and the issue of running out of useable antibiotics has grown to become a global issue. We have tried and tried again to find something to use, but it was a fruitless mission that led to deaths in the millions. We were running out of time and hope -- that is, until Dr. V graced my doorstep. 
 
 He enlightened me with his research on ancient strains of MRSA, showed me his notes on patterns he had noticed that surprisingly no one else had put together. As the Director of the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, I was so close to throwing myself off the edge as news reports of death tolls skyrocketing because microbes that were once harmless had super evolved to become absolutely lethal. Dr. V had become my savior. 
 
 Fingernails digging into my shoulders drag me out of my reverie. I let out a yelp and nearly jump out of my skin when I see blank eyes and torn up flesh in front of me. It's one of them -- one of the patients that had been experimented on. Tears cloud my vision as I hold in the bile clawing my esophagus. I turn around and begin to run in a random direction, desperate to put a good amount of distance between me and this infected being before letting myself go. 
 
 It's useless. The entrance to the bunker I was once safely held in is made to be indistinguishable to anyone unfamiliar with it, and being in the middle of the Mojave desert meant there was no place to hide. All around me I see infected beings -- patients, I remind myself -- people who had once trusted me to make them better. But I was n't a doctor, I did n't know any better! 
 
 Instead, I had put all my trust into Dr. V, and that was my first and last mistake I'll ever make. With the funding he got from us with his `` legitimate'' research, he made sure to put himself as far away from earth as possible. How he got away with it all, I will never know. But without him to attest to me being his puppet, I will now shoulder the burden of being responsible for the end of the world as we knew it.
