[You have found the blog from the (Pandemic/Apocalypse). Read?]
[Loading...]
[Warning...The question wasn't a yes or no question.]
[Finding lost files in this device. Extracting file (Strange Beings.blog).]
[Loading...]
***
Day 1. First day of my blog.
I don't know how to start, but to break it out to you all, I am done trying to find the cure to this absolutely terrifying disease in this apocalypse. Well, honestly, it's hard to tell whether this is an apocalypse or a pandemic anymore. But whatever it is, I hate it.
I stayed up all night trying to decipher what this thing is. There seems to be a barrier between me and these authorities who claim they are secretly saving the people, but I don't even know if they are doing what they are telling the public. Because some humans register under this camp base, only to get killed if they are infected.
I may have not been alive around the time the COVID-19 was still roaming the air of the world, but even from what I have heard, they didn't suffer the way we are, right now in the future that the past people said would be the era which would be most easy to survive.
They said AI will take over the world and do the most unexpected...but it was destroyed when it was proven of no use in trying to find a cure for this fungus. Well of course, those dumb people thought a robot could save humans, whereas they don't even know where the human organs are properly positioned.
And either ways, I thought I would share this few things before I die...as a side character who is about to leave the picture in just a few days...or if the fungus is merciful...an entire week. Right now, my arms are aching from typing, but I am still holding onto my last breathe just to alert the next generation of fighters and survivors that something like this...happened in the history of this world...this planet...this...Earth.
***
"Ugh!" I slammed everything off the table and watched them fall onto the floor, becoming desanitized with whatever germs the ground might carry. This fungus is a dizzying matter to worry about, but in truth, no one ever forced me to look up how to cure it. My table, now bare and with nothing standing on it's surface, felt like it were speaking back to me as my nerves pulsed with an agonizing terror, that made me want to rip the world apart.
I had enough...this people, this community, this awkward society...they all don't want to understand this thing, that the apocalypse or pandemic...is a serious matter to take into one's mind. They always think their precious contaminated item can still stay around them, because they simply believe that the memories they hold will keep them alive. As if they had received education long enough to just turn mental again, at the end.
Honestly speaking, I hate when people keep crying over dead souls...I have lost my two parents to this fungus, and I am not even sad they are gone. Well of course, it's not in a bad way. It's because, they somehow managed to put a fear in me to survive and grow to save more people. And in this generation, people just say that I am a bad person for feeling that way.
In my twenty-two years of life filled with this incident, I have never witnessed what an actual normal world was until the breakout happened when I was three. But I do have this dream to save this world, as much as I can, with my power...because I promised them...because I suggested I can do this...because I said I could do it...alone.
I feel dumbfolded now...to think back and listen to what I had said during my last meeting. My colleagues believed I would at least try...but why did they suddenly fall dependent on me for solving this case? It's as if...my asking to volunteer...is a major factor into this community filled with survivors and the infected. After this, I have made a promise to myself...no more getting involved into these sort of things.
Wearing this plastic body suit that shields me from those fungus growing around the grounds and infecting humans, it felt like my costume was draining my energy and breathe over the time. I honestly don't know what is happening...because my mind is just not working the way it was supposed to...it's frustruating and filled with rage...nothing is possible when my brain goes rampaging around the fields of deep fire, with no armour or protection. It's unavoidable by now, but there is no other choice.
Finally, I looked at the debris at my room floor, at the pieces of papers and books on the ground. "Now that's contaminated...all that is left to do is dispose it." I spoke to myself as my knees straighted for a short while then bent into a crouching position to pick up the few things I had scraped off my table's surface. My many scribbled pages, the nonsense that I have thought of were all written onto them, and I was just thinking what the cure could be.
"What is wrong with me?" My voice rang back into my ears as I smiled behind the thick layer of mask, and my blackout face shield that avoided anyone from seeing my face. And this made things difficult for us staffs to know who we are speaking to. No one knows what the other person looks like around now, whether they have turned expressionless with the loss of their family members or they still smile with their minds blooming with sunshines and rainbows.
Standing up, I dropped everything back onto the table, but hesitated to review anything for the time being. My mind was already in a stressed phase...and I couldn't do anything with such a blanked out mind. That is exactly when a knock came at my chamber door, which was just clear aryclic frame. This was the 'aesthetic' nowadays.
"Daniel, there is a case with a woman at the front lobby. We might need a hand dealing with it." One of my colleagues spoke to me, which I didn't know who they were just by the voice. "And we might need help asap, in case you don't want to shoot her like you did the last time. This woman is about to rip apart the counter, and it's only been five minutes of her entering from the survivor's block."
"..." I breathed out heavily while looking towards the front door. "Alright...I am coming." Hesitantly, I walked up to the front door, while sharing one last glance at the messy table in the middle of my room. As a guy with OCD, it was actually an impossible thing to leave such a clean room in that state. But in this case, where a human is just about to go insane before the fungus takes them, I guess there was no choice from my side expect to leave it as it was.
***
The front counter is also the entrance where we identify people to know whether they are infected or in the risk of getting it, or normally healthy. And this one in specific is where the person is either sentenced to death or sent to the survivor block.
While if they are infected, they will be put into observation at the Quarantine block, where they are isolated for the rest of the week, until they seem to either recover or they turn even more ill. But in case they are growing even more infected, until spikes grow out of their backs, then they are...sent to the seperate chamber.
Life is extremely short for anyone if they are sent into the quarantine block, because most of the time, they get killed by their infected roommates or they are the one who kills the other person living with them, and thus, they are sentenced to death. I have seen many people cry over a small fact, by the mention of "quarantine" and "seperate chamber". I won't lie, I feel bad for them too. Once those words are said, they can't go back to their usual lives or they can't come out as a human again.
Walking up to the front, I felt an unexpressable feeling of something bad about to happen, looking at the very dark, greyish Earth, with the suffocating winds. But despite that, some people still have a final wish to witness this breeze...and then just take their own lives knowing there is no turning back now. They live inside tents...but they are still fighting to live the life of a normal human. The world is going to end any sooner by the way it is progressing to a dead end...so I guess they have made the best decision until now.
"Please!" A woman pleaded to three of our staffs with teary eyes as she sank to her knees and held out her hands in front of one. "Just let me see her for one last time! Let me see her dead body! She was only twelve! She didn't know that the clock was going to be contagious and that she would be infected!" The mask covering her face turned wet as her gloved hands were left shaking with tiredness and something else...that I couldn't describe. Of course, I have seen this type of situation a lot of time.
"Ma'am, we already said we can't allow for it...especially for your own sake." A female colleague of mine spoke as she comforted the mother at desperate attempts. But none of it worked, for a mother who couldn't help but try to get their child back or at least see her face before she was sent into the survivor block and never allowed back in again. "Please, if you would just co-operate and listen to us. I believe you will be resilient enough to endure it until you finally remember that lose is just a fear that you needed to conquer."
"No! Not for a mother, that does not apply!" She shouted while abruptly standing up, causing the staffs to jolt backwards in fear of her attacking, knowing how the population was now allowed to wield weapons and in case she tried anything. "I will go and see her myself! I have been trying so hard until now that I have lost my patience!" The woman started marching up to the locked gate, as she dashed past me only to confront them for the keys.
"Where is it?!" She shouted at their face shields. "Where is the key to the lock?!" Her bloodshot eyes turned eager and rageful as she reached for the electric gun at her waist. Holding it up, the others immediately surrendered and moved backwards, but only I stayed up in the front, unjolting. Noticing my frozen status, she rushed over to pick me up by the collar of my suit. "Where is the key to the lock that is holding the gate shut to the seperate chamber that you all were saying just a few seconds ago?!"
"What is it that you want done, ma'am?" I politely asked, still not willing to move from my place. "I want her body...to be graved...somewhere I can visit on a daily basis in the survivors' block." She answered while letting me down, but at this point, I already knew that whatever she wanted done, was a far sight and I raised my own gun at her.
Shocked and surprised, her eyes stared my soul with confusion. "I am sorry...ma'am." my voice went through the small air filter at the side of my mask. "But you can't simply dream of burying a liquidified body...and that too at a place like the survivors' block." Hesitantly, I had to let go of the hard truth.
[NEXT PAGE>>>]