A Collection of Stories

Hard Times

Dear Mother and Father,
Hard times have come upon me. I'm not sure what to do. Really, what is anybody supposed to do when a pandemic has hit? It's everywhere. People are spewing up chunks of blood like it's vomit, so there's constantly a coppery smell surrounding me. I'm lucky, I guess, since it appears I'm immune. But my luck should last. I've found a lot of corpses just lining the side of the road, and the ones that really scare me are the ones that are fresh. You can tell they're fresh because you can still smell the occasional gas burp from the corpse. You know, when their bellies get all swollen and if something pushes on them, nasty-smelling gas comes out from it? Those.
There's also children. It seems children are especially vulnerable to this strange disease, because they're drowning in their own little pools of blood. And the infants! It looks like the majority of them died because their parents died and there was nobody left to care for them.
But, the fact is that they're already dead, and I can't do anything about it. It's one of the hard truths of life nowadays, that you can only care for yourself if you want to survive. Actually, I'm sort of deviating from my own philosophy. I found a couple on the side of the road, shivering and hungry, with nothing but the clothes on their backs and a few pieces of paper. (I'm using these papers now.) It looked like they didn't have the disease, though, so I approached them. They begged me for food, clinging onto each other like they would drown if they didn't. And who was I to say no? I told them to get up and start walking while they ate. Grabbing on hungrily to the small pieces of bread and slightly moldy cheese I gave them, they stumbled forward, and asked where I was going.
I told them I was going to a lab. They asked me, "Like a doctor's lab?". And technically, that was true, so I said yes. Nodding, apparently satisfied, they continued to slowly make their way forward, their feet catching on the hard stones of broken asphalt. I smiled and continued on, shouldering my heavy burden.
Two days later, and after a sparse few words exchanged between us, we had decided to approach the white, industrial building. It looked untouched, and there were only a few splatters of blood on the outside. I tugged on the door, and after I used a bit of force, I heard a crack, and the doors flew open. Scraps of rotten wood hitting my face, and I had to spit a few out.
I looked around inside, then waved the couple in. Right as they were about to enter, I stopped them and asked for their names. They told me their names were Maria and Landon. Then, as they entered the building, I felt so very happy for them. Why wouldn't I? Here were two perfect people to help me purge the world until I am the only one left. All those who are fools shall die with my beautiful disease cultivating inside of them. I will be the only one left. Me, and a few subjects. A few of them will need to be alive so I can continue experimenting.
I write now from the safety of being behind a glass wall. Maria is still pounding on the glass, but Landon has given up. This is interesting, because it's obvious he's never been chivalrous his entire life, and it makes me wonder why Maria stuck with him. Perhaps I'll ask her that later today.
Is my family proud of me? They should be, I saved the next generation from a horrible fate of being surrounded by fools. I know you can't communicate with Sister, but maybe you could send good vibes from wherever you are now, or something like that?
Oh, Landon is up. He looks angry. What is he trying to do? Pounding on the glass isn't going to do anything, si

NO

A pair of disappointed eyes look up from the blood-stained letter. "Landon."
There's the sound of a nervous gulp. "Yes, Doctor?"
"What have I told you about your enhancements?"
"Not to use them around other people, Doctor." A sheepish gaze was leveled upon the floor.
"Right. And what did you just do?"
A figure shoots up, the chair clattering onto the floor behind him. He slams a hand down on the desk. "But Doctor! She was going to kill us and everybody else! You see the letter! She was insane!" He ends his rant as a flustered mess, his cheeks red from anger and his hair disheveled.
"Landon." A tension so thick you could cut it rebounds inside the room. "Sit. Down."
"B-but Doctor!"
"Sit."
Landon reluctantly sits down. Even with his enhancements, he doesn't want to make the Doctor mad.
"She saw you, didn't she?"
Landon says nothing.
"She saw you, didn't she?"
"...Yes." He hesitantly responds.
"Well, she'll have to go." The 'Doctor' stands up and is about to leave when Landon shoots up again, reaching out a desperate hand.
"Please, Doctor, no! I'll make sure she won't tell anyone." A tear traces his way down his cheek. "Please." It's a broken sound, one filled with the memories of blood and corpses and so much more.
"No. That's final, Landon. Don't make me get rid of you, too."
"Yes, Doctor." Landon sits back down, head falling forward and droplets of tears staining his pants in an erratic pattern. "Maria, I'm so, so sorry. Nobody can do anything against a doctor. Especially not him, the Doctor."