CORONA

Day 9

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Disclaimer: This is a work of FICTION. All of this was written from the figment of my one brain cell (I literally typed this in one go and went along with it). I'm not okay with being sued or being chased by our LOVELY government. Turn the screen to dark. Okay, bye!
🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️🏃🏾‍♀️

Day 9

We print out the documents we've been reading for the past half hour, thankful that out of all the things going right in this nightmare of a building, it's a damn printer.

On my way out, I look behind the door and notice the fuse box open with half of the wires sticking out. Out of curiosity, I walk closer to take a look.

"That finally explains all the lights that are out," Jared mutters behind me.

The wires have been cut haphazardly, some of them dangling out of the box and some of the pieces on the floor. Whoever killed the scientists must've yanked them out to scare people, or to give himself some cover to hide. Maybe both. Whatever it was, the thought that a single strain of rapidly mutating virus, could make someone do this is horrifying.

We sprint quickly down the stairs and into the common area. It feels emptier, presumably because it's now the seven of us.

I drop the papers I had gathered into one staple on the coffee table. I remove the so-called mask, deeming it useless since the smell had already worked its invasion into my nose and has made itself at home.

"Okay," Jared says, dropping heavily on the sofa. "Now that we're out of that death-infested office, you mind telling us what you read?"

"So basically," Brandon starts as Jared takes the paper from his hand. I take a seat besides Jared and peer over his shoulder, while the rest sits down on the other sofa and chairs in a loose circle to listen to what Brandon has to say. "There's this thing called Project Corona. It was first designed by the government in 1988 as a means of decreasing the population, back when it was at five billion, but the project was put on hold after President Elias Streisser's death. Further down the line in 1993, it was rebooted again, but there were several complications in terms of development and the president at the time became too skeptical about the whole thing and demanded an end to the project. They didn't. Instead, the people in charge of Project Corona decided that it should be kept a secret from future presidents and should only be revived in a state of emergency. In 2016, President Joseph H. Madison discovered it and ordered it to be shut down completely. Except many people in the government didn't agree and pretended to kick it off the map, only to bring it back two years later when his second term was over.

"Fast forward to 2018 when the government saw that President Holt Dower's views aligned with what the project's mission was and decided to let him in on it. Apparently, the world didn't need to reach eight billion people and corona virus would take care of that." Brandon points to a space on the paper that Jared is examining before continuing. "The population reduction was estimated to be about forty million in four years, but they didn't expect it to die down a year earlier, totaling the casualties to a little under twenty million in three years. They also didn't expect the virus to mutate to the point that it was harder to spread. Thus, SADE Labs was created to figure out how to get rid of that 'problem'."

Elijah stands up, his face harshly pale. "You're saying... we're actually here to help these sick bastards figure out how to kill off more people?"

Brandon nods grimly.

"What the fuck!" He kicks at his chair, sending it clattering to the ground and making several people jump back in surprise.

"Not only that," I add softly, standing up and showing the papers I've printed out to the remaining volunteers. "The virus that was injected into Tiana, Gwen, and Daniel was an experimented version of the virus, not the original form. It wasn't a small strand either, it was the whole nine. Everyone was being monitored and those who were beginning to show 'deteriorative states' were immediately killed to prevent it from spreading. The goal was to create a form in which it could remain dormant and undetected for years until it decided to show itself. But the virus kept changing elements, changing symptoms, making it unpredictable and far more dangerous. They were planning to kill all of us because they knew it wouldn't work, and then some guy named Matthew Bianchi, who had reached 'deteriorative state,' somehow escaped and started this entire murder rampage. He must've been the dead guy on the floor."