The End

January 7, 3003

The world is a fucking disgusting, sickening place.

It’s been two years since they dropped the bomb. No one knows who created it. There was nothing to prepare for what happened that day.

The year is 3002, modern warfare is advanced beyond recognition. The things they can do to people is inhumane.

It started in New York first. Mass suicides flooded the papers, mothers killing their own children. Hundreds of people jumping off buildings each day, or jumping in front of cars. Anything they could do to depart their tragic world. We thought they were myths, no one believed it was true until you saw it first hand. Whatever sinister thing they put into the bomb was out of this world, technology we didn’t even know had existed. It had the ability to change people’s natural human wiring. Change who they were entirely. Whatever gas was admitted from the bomb made people into the suppressed darkness they try so hard to conceal from the world. There was no joy. Just emptiness and total darkness and dismay. What this bomb did was end the world by making people not feel. Imagine, an almost total wipeout of our nation due to the fact that people just killed themselves. What a great way to win a war. A few of us have survived, I don’t know why we are the few lucky chosen ones who somehow kept our mind straight. The affected who haven’t yet offed themselves just walk around in misery like zombies, unaware of what they’ve become, just stuck in a loop of agony. We still don’t know why the bomb dropped, the government is corrupt and has always been for as far back as I can remember. Keeping the war away from the media, away from the people. To keep us dumb and unaware of the events of the outside world. That’s all we know.

January 9, 3003

I’ve always been a good man. Lived a somewhat righteous life. Why was I chosen to stay in this hell?

January 13, 3003

I have a secret I've kept until now. I have this locket that contains the very secret formula to end the effects of this chemical warfare. Or that’s what Steven told me. I used to work as a writer, I wrote articles for our local news. A couple months after the bomb dropped and the effects weren’t in total motion, a delirious man had run into my office and asked me to print on the front page that the cure has been found, that we all have been saved. Security had taken him out before he could say much more. I’ve never seen him again. After they dragged him out I looked down on my desk and saw that the insane man had left a locket and a note. With the busy workload I had for the day, I didn’t read the note till I got home. The handwriting was sloppy but it read, “I am Dr. Steven Lock, I don’t have much time to live, because I know this disease will inevitably kill me. The contents of this locket contain the one thing that will bring hope to the future of the world. I trust that you will do what’s right. Never give up. This is the only way.”

What was inside the locket was two things. A picture of me, and the coordinates to a location in Oregon.

Why the fuck would there be a picture of me inside this gold heart chain locket? Looking for more answers, I flipped the note over and saw more of the same sloppy handwriting, “You are the answer. On June 25, you went to a blood drive. When we ran the tests to find your blood type we found that your blood is unlike anyones in the world. Type X is what we called it. No match to anything. We couldn’t explain this medical mystery. This is what makes you immune. Your blood is the cure for this ungodly disease. You are the key. In these coordinates you will find a secret base. In this base you will find a select few like you, immune. But you are different from them, they don’t possess your blood. Go to these coordinates, and together you can change the world. You are our only hope.”

How can all this pressure be put on one man? But I feel this is my duty to the human race.

January 14, 3003

I think someone has been in my apartment. My things are looked through and thrown around. Maybe I should leave to Oregan a day earlier.

I was visited by one of the infected, this man appeared out my window screaming that I should not be here, and that I did not belong. An abomination.

He threatened that he would be back, and I would pay for living “the wrong way”. I think I may leave later tonight. I have never been approached by the infected until today, I didn’t know they could talk. Could this creature know that I was different? I’m scared for the journey ahead. What if I don’t make it?

Then the world ceases to exist like it once did before. If I don’t make this trip there is nothing.

Fuck I hear a knocking at the door. I’m not going to see what’s waiting for me on the other side. I’m just going to turn the lights off and be as silent as I can be.

It’s been three hours and I still hear that dreadful banging at the door. Every knock feels like a blow in my worryful stomach. I was supposed to leave hours ago.

I went up to get a glass of water, and saw that my window was open and the banging had stopped. I am now hiding in the bathroom with my door locked.

I fear I won’t make it much longer, I know something is in the house with me, and has intentions to kill me.

All my life I wanted to do great things. To go down in history, praised for something I did, but that’s not how life fucking works.

If there is a future, and someone might find this, I’m sorry.