//------------------------------//
// Apologies 
// Story: Apologies 
// by Filet Mignon 
//------------------------------//

From the an apartment in Baltimare, a television sat on, its operator long since gone. The last channel viewed, the news, displayed warnings of imminent danger.
"Potential sightings of infected individuals have been reported in your area. Do not approach those who exhibit signs of infection. Please evacuate to the nearest designated safe zone. 
This is not a drill."
It seemed that this resident had diligently obeyed the projected orders, though the red puddle seeping from under the front door didn't bode well. Still, the shambling steps heard outside did not attempt to enter the room, so this place was as safe as any.
The so-called "safe zones" lost the privilege to call themselves that plenty of hours ago.
Suddenly, the news switched to a live camera feed. In its view was a podium, and the backdrop draped behind it featured a symbol consisting of a magic spell emanating from a book. The news ticker continued to repeat the same orders from earlier, but above it, a larger tagline announced an upcoming press announcement. Sure enough, after a minute, a woman walked onto the portable stage. Her purple hair was tied up into a messy bun, and she obscured her face with a translucent face shield and medical mask. Still, she stepped up to the podium, messy and slightly stained papers placed next to her. She cleared her throat.
"Good evening, everyone. My name is Twilight Sparkle, and I am the head of the National Magic Foundation. My organization has been working with the recently discovered 'pony world' to cultivate magic in a way that's accessible to humans. As you all are aware, Equestria is currently suffering from a deadly virus... and we take full responsibility for it. Unfortunately, not much is known about it other than that it completely takes over the mind of the host, forcing them to infect others. It is spread through body fluids, such as saliva or blood, and infected individuals will attempt to bite and scratch in order to achieve this." 
She took a deep breath. "As such, it is important that people stay as far away from infected individuals as possible. If needed, loved ones must be sequestered in securely fortified enclosures, such as unattached basements or metal sheds, separately from those not afflicted with the virus, but should this option be unavailable, destroying their brains have been proven effective at stopping the infected individual... though at the cost of the host's life. However, if infected individuals are reported in your area, you are advised to evacuate according to local protocol."
Abruptly, a loud slam was heard in the distance from Twilight. In the background, a couple voices shouted in surprise before multiple gunshots rang through the hall. The woman recoiled at the gunfire, growing increasingly more distressed despite still continuing to address whatever viewers were left.
"As of right now, a cure is still in the process. Attempts to convene with the pony world proved... unsuccessful." A brief flash of sadness painted her face. "For the safety of both worlds, the portal at Canterlot High School has been destroyed to prevent infected individuals from crossing between." More shots were heard. "Therefore, it is imperative that you all take the proper precautions to avoid exposure to the virus. It appears incapable of utilizing all bodily functions to their fullest potential. They are unable to properly use their legs, so infected individuals appear to limp very slowly towards others. Conversely, though, they have shown evidence of enhanced strength..." Someone yelped in the distance, and frantic firing followed. "Therefore, barricading oneself in unprotected locations not designated as safe zones is highly unadvised."
Twilight Sparkle's eyes widened, and she took a step back from the podium. From the edge of the camera's view, someone donning full hazmat gear appeared, donning a short rifle. He continued to step backwards, peeking over at the stage every now and then. Following him, several people shambled into frame, targeting the two remaining survivors. Torn between finishing her address and escaping, the violet woman leaned back to the microphone.
"The National Magic Foundation asks for your patience and your resilience." She locked eyes with the camera. "We will find a way to end this epidemic." Finally, she backed up from the podium, joining the armed man as he stepped up to the stage and pulling out a firearm of her own. The cameraman had seemingly escaped or been killed long ago as the camera continued to capture their escape. Taking occasional potshots at the horde, they ran behind the stage, though the falling bodies knocked over the backdrop, revealing the rest of the auditorium. At the back-left and back-right corners were exit doors, but the military members protecting the former had fallen back into the room while those at the latter had long since joined the horde.
They were trapped, with infected coming in from all sides. Echoes of their conversation were indecipherable from the broadcast, but based on the worried facing briefly seen behind those protective masks, they were unsure of how to escape. The first man grabbed for another magazine, but he tripped over a body, losing it in the crowd of infected. Unwilling to break formation to grab one from another member, he began swinging his weapon wildly, hitting any shambling bodies and dropping them to the floor. As the other armed men also ran out of ammunition, they followed suit, weaponizing anything they could get their hands on: guns, chairs, stanchion posts - if it could crush skulls, it was enough. Twilight Sparkle attempted to provide as much support as possible, though considering her shaky aim and tendency to close her eyes, she was not an effective shooter.
Such would be proven when a bullet struck the first man's arm. He stumbled forward, grabbing at the wound. Unfortunately, dropping his weapon would leave his body exposed, and a pale body scratched said arm, eliciting a howl from the victim. Attempting to back away, he tripped on one of the infected he had knocked down, though it was still very much alive, so it took a bite from his side. Yelling in pain, the man attempted to struggle, pushing against the person chomping down on him, but it proved futile; it was not going to let go. Panic overwhelming him, he continued to scream as more and more bodies surrounded him, eager to spread the virus to him.
The rest of the group, frozen with fear, were powerless to save him, so after returning to reality, they continued to protect themselves. Luckily for them, the infected individuals that were focused on their fallen ally had left an opening by the stage. Looking amongst themselves, they nodded to each other before rushing towards the stage. Two men swung at the handful of bodies limping around the podium, and while one of them was scratched, they were successful, knocking the masses and the podium over the stage, resulting in a loud ringing as the microphone hit the floor.
Alas, while they continued past the view of the camera, they were quickly stopped by more infected, as further grunts were heard. Eventually, one of them called out to someone by their name, but said recipient didn't respond. They repeated their call, but again and again, no response was heard. Then, the voice cried out before rifle thumping against flesh was picked up by the microphone.
The standoff would ultimately fail, as the group was pushed back towards the stage yet again, though the bodies indulging themselves in their comrade had returned to their initial prey, said comrade having been turned. Thus, the remaining survivors were thinned down by the overwhelming circle of infected humans, leaving Twilight Sparkle as the last one. She emptied her final clip, backing up into the stage. Tripping over the podium and the two bodies next to it, she spotted the microphone on the floor.
"I'm sorry, Equestria."
As the backs of the infected took up the whole view of the camera, flesh ripped and bones cracked, but not another word was spoken.
And thus, the National Magic Foundation fell, and the rest of the country followed.