Occisor

Prologue

2103. A Post-Apocalyptic world. Famine and Disease rage across the world. You thought that people could not get any more malicious. You thought wrong. Law? There is no such thing.

It's called Occisor. Latin for Murder and Killer. That's what killed your mom, dad, brother or sister. Killed your aunt, uncle, cousin and grandparents. Your best friend, that boy you liked, and that druggie that everyone knows. Almost your entire school, all the workers at the factory, the kindergarten down the street. All gone. All dead. Occisor does not discriminate. It doesn't matter if you're young, old, what your race is or your gender. It just kills. That's all it does. Kills.

We are the survivors. Somehow we made it through. It's not fair. We know. Why should we live and watch everyone we love die? We have asked this question to ourselves hundreds of times before. The weak ones usually die. They break under the strain of seeing to many deaths. It doesn't bother me anymore. I've seen to many tragedies to get emotional.

Its starts like any other cold; runny nose, sore throat, cough. Then by the fifth day you feel awful. Pain radiates throughout your entire body. You cough up blood so much you need a bucket. By the seventh day, if you're not dead from blood loss, your body starts to shut down. Hallucinations from oxygen deprivation in your brain are common. People say they saw heaven. Or hell. By the ninth day you are dead. It's that simple; nobody makes it to day 10. Never.

So now you know what happened. If you ever read this, I wanted someone to know what really happened. What it felt like to experience the awful disease. I guess I want people to know just how tragic it is. I hope that somebody finds this after I die. I'm not afraid of death. But maybe you will find this and enjoy it. Maybe my writing will be famous and in textbooks like The Diary of Anne Frank.

So this is my life. My story. My tragedy.

And this is how I survived.