Malevolence

Before you read the following entries, I have left this explanation to possibly aid in the understanding and possibly the vaccination of this disease. I must be brief, as the maddening darkness is enveloping the last bit of my sanity. This pandemic has been called Pathogen-000. So far as I’ve been able to tell, the first signs of infection are extreme insomnia, (I haven’t slept in 3 weeks) then paranoia, which progresses into schizophrenia.
I’ve been suppressing the earlier - as well as the latter - symptoms using simple household Tylenol and aspirin. Why these hinder the progression, I do not know. But I’m afraid that’s the only effect they have; they do not serve as a cure. I believe I am the only person who is still alive in this area. Please, get to my writings before they get me. I’ve been hearing them and seeing them, waiting outside the windows of this office. They whisper in my ears constantly. I’m getting sleepy and hungry. I hope the other people in the office don’t mind if I raid the fridge.
==Entry 1 - Date: April 28, 2013==
My name is Clayton Huff. I am 15 years old. My mother, my sister, my brother and I have just been moved to a housing unit in the southern region of a little town called Salina, next to the border of the quarantine wall. Just as things were calming down amongst ourselves, we have been told we are going to be evacuated in a couple of hours, on account of the number of infected congregating on the other side of the wall.
From what I’ve seen, this virus doesn’t reanimate corpses like in the movies, thus complicating the situation. It mutates the body and warps the mind. The scientists call it Pathogen-000; I call it malevolence. My father became infected a month ago, and before he had an aneurysm and died of a brain hemorrhage. He almost strangled me to death, after breaking the fingers on my left hand. He lost it. Anyway, we're being moved to another quarantine. I will know more later on.
-end of entry
==Entry 2 - Date: April 29, 2013==
And so the fifth journey begins. Yes, this is the fifth time I’ve been evacuated, but the first time I’ve seen the firing squad that accompanied our group and the white coats shooting at the infected. They had to kill two of them. They literally had to empty a machine gun on those things. They were huge! One of them had blade-like claws on one hand. The doctors explained that those were rare cases of extreme mutation, and we were lucky to have experienced those creatures, as opposed to other things he had seen. He cut off there.
We stopped at an empty gas station. Mother looked at me and my siblings and smiled, asking us if we’d like something to eat. We all got our favorite drinks and snacks, while the soldiers gathered the necessities for us. I made it a point to inquire about the next location and what it was like, as we are normally told before we leave. We received no briefing. I thought nothing of it, until I heard the white coat’s answer. He said that the next place was an underground acropolis and gave no further information to me. I don’t like this at all but maybe I’m just over-thinking it.
-end of entry
==Entry 3 - Date: May 3, 2013==
We arrived at this so-called “acropolis” a couple of minutes ago, and we’re being lined up to go inside. I’m writing as we enter this massive door and through this corridor. It’s filled with all sorts of doors and hallways. I'm unsure of where we're being led to, but that uneasy feeling I got when I was in the bus, is back. And now more so than ever.
-end of entry
==Entry 4 - Date: May 10, 2013==
They’re dead. All of them are dead. They were all shot down by an array of machine guns. They grabbed me and my sister, just before the bullets reached our path. They took us into a lab, and they put me to sleep. God knows what they did to my poor sister while I was out. I found out later, though, while they were throwing out biohazardous materials in a large cart. She was laying on top of all the garbage, as if they put her there deliberately for me to see.
I lost my shit and just about killed the doctor nearest me, until he jabbed a syringe into my neck before I could even get off the stretcher I was sitting on, when she passed the window. I’ve been asking around about what happened and why it happened, and all they told me were that we were risk factors, and the only place the pathogen wasn’t found was in me and my sister. That was, until they used a bunch of experimental cures on us to find out. My poor, poor baby sister caught the worst of the side effects: her heart exploded. I didn’t even get to mourn or say goodbye.
-end of entry
==Entry 5 - Date: May 20, 2013==
I was going to quit writing, until I started hearing things whispering in my ear. As soon as this started, I knew, I knew my days were numbered. But until then, I’ll just enjoy the company of my family and the shadow people outside the glass.
I don’t remember what day it is. I don’t remember where I am. Sleep is impossible. If I go to sleep, I’ll get caught by the white shadow people who I think are the doctors. If I sleep, I’ll have to start over again, I’ll have to reassess everything I already know.
I played with my sister, Kylie, today. She found some new toys to play with outside the cell.
I see it all the way it is now. The people are trying to kill us. Infect us with their awful virus. No cure. No cure, no cure, no cure, no cure. It said it won't let go. It likes my blood, and it likes living there. It said it was so lonely, I let it in when I was weak, and it brought my family back to me. That was nice, wasn’t it? Humans are evil. I see them for what they are now; nothing is good in this world. It's all just an illusion. Malevolence is my only friend; can’t trust anyone. So hungry.
==Entry ? - Date: ?/?/?==
I don’t remember anything. I’ve been reading what I’m saying, and I’m kind of scared. Mom, Kylie, and my brother Kade are dead. They’re not real anymore, yet I see them walking around constantly. I’ve been under close observation, and I’m extremely paranoid. When the doctors come in to ask their questions, I don’t speak. I don’t trust them. They don’t want a cure; they want a result. This was no attempt at keeping us safe.
They just needed to thin out the crowd. They wanted me because of what used to be my optimal health and longevity. Kylie was too young, mom was too old, Kade just got caught in the crossfire, but I was perfect. A fucking guinea pig. I’ve also taken to scrawling random things on the wall, like random sayings - things I’ve been hearing. It speaks to me. I have no idea whats going on. I think I’ll try to sleep.
-end
==Alone. Date:?/?/?==
I wake up and find that they’re all gone. No one is here. There are corpses littering the following hallways, but no one is alive. I can hear growling and scraping in the vents. I’m minus a couple of teeth and fingers. I saw myself walking across the hall. I waved at myself and then he (I) pulled a switch of sorts. I heard a loud whisper:
"Run."
That’s all I remember. I looked in the mirror and found scars on my face, as if I were cut by a wild cat. I hear them in the walls. They crawl and roar. They scratch and leave marks on the walls. I find myself looking around, and all I see is blood and claw marks everywhere.
This couldn’t be my doing. But It faded like it never happened. My writing doesn’t make sense anymore. I’m just typing off the top of my head now. I’m going to go find an office for a computer to put my writings on, so I can email my story to someone. Maybe someone will care. I’ll probably have to gather what's left of my mind, and put some sort of justification or explanation at the beginning of this little memoir.
==??? - ???==
Found an office and a computer. Staring at the screensaver is surprisingly comforting. The auditory hallucinations are getting louder, more erratic and rapid, and I think there are more voices speaking at once than before. I can’t tell what’s real. I keep playing with my sister and hanging out with my family, but they seem so real. I can hear them and touch them, but I can’t tell. I keep seeing other things, as well. I can touch them, too, but when I do, I always end up in some sort of distorted, screwed up reality.
I’ve been mutilating myself. I’m insane, but I’m still here. I don’t feel pain. I bit off my left thumb. I like fingers. I’ve been hoarding them in the corner of the cubicle. I also like eyes, I hang them on the ceiling. Oh, and I wrote that disclaimer at the beginning, like you said I should.
There’s some person who writes me back when I type on the computer. He says his name is Clayton. I’ve read his writing. It’s sad what happened. I see a reflection of myself walking around. We talk sometimes, and other times, he looks at me with a beastly face and shrieks. Then the world contorts itself. I’m really sleepy. I think it’s been a couple of weeks since I went to bed. Oh look, it’s one of the cats he mentioned earlier.
…
I don’t have an arm anymore and I’ve been taking medicines lately. I’m hungry, but I don’t want to make the other office workers angry.
Category:Diary/Journal
Category:Mental Illness
Category:Science