“Maybe I can get away with going over there to try to get more information about what's going on.” you justify to yourself. Subconciously the virus might be causing you to think these logically unsound thoughts. Your slight errection seems to confirm this. The virus is trying to get another hit to kickstart your transformation into a tauric slut.
“Damnit, this might be a risky idea, but I have to try it.” you continue to justify the idea as you sit up from the sofa and walk up to the door. “Must be the adrenaline” you think as you notice what's going on in your pants, unable to realize that it's the virus talking in both your analysis and the physical symptoms.
Tentatively, you twist the knob on the door, peeking out the crack, and ready to slam it shut at any moment. As far as you can tell, there's no other chackats in the hallway, it seems like everyone but your neighbors went outside to find more victims. You take a deep breath and open the door, walking through the hallway, making sure to avoid the huge puddles of chakat cum that covers the floor along with the confetti that were several men's and women's clothes.
“This is my last chance to back out” you think, bringing your fist up to the door to knock.