The World of Death
Written as a Creative Writing project.
June 16, 2026
Every day the body count gets higher and higher. I have been forced to stay within my fortress, my wife and I. My wife, Myra, I administered to her three injections of entirely experimental "CF-X." I did this in hopes of curing her terminal illness of the heart. This illness is caused by a fatal combination of genetics and lifetime of bad habits. I shall observe her until further notice.
June 18, 2026
There have been some strange but significant symptoms. Over the last 48 hours, Myra has developed red blotches on her cheeks, very dry skin, and a high fever. This could just be her body's response to the serum, but it is still too soon to tell. It is becoming a rather tedious task to keep her under my 24-hour surveillance; I fear I must rest. I will return to Myra in a couple of hours to note any possible changes in her condition.
Same day, later
I left her for just a couple hours, only two hours. Her skin is beginning to become shriveled and grey, her eyes are yellow, and she's been vomiting blood. By God, I have never seen a transformation so rapid. I fear I will not be able to observe her case much longer. I will not put my work before my spouse. I shall spend these remaining moments with my wife.
June 19, 2026
Myra has passed. Early this morning. From the medication I've administered or her heart, I shall not know. May she rest easy. I will take a break from my studies to mourn.
Same day, later
I entered my laboratory late tonight, where I had left Myra for the time being, to make a very unsettling discovery. She was gone. I was in a frenzy, calling out to any intruders, only to hear a sweetly familiar voice: "Christos." I couldn't believe my eyes nor my ears. What I saw was horrific, gut-wrenching. Yellow bloodshot eyes, black-grey skin so dry it was peeling right off the bone. The once angelic blonde hair was now grey, brittle, and falling out. My beautiful wife appeared to be a corpse, already wasted away. I couldn't believe it, all of her vitals had shown no sign of life. I kept my distance as she crawled closer from behind the table. I saw her skeleton hand reach out to me as she whispered, in a raspy voice, my name, pretending to be her. I terminated her—it. I ended it with a gun, which I keep for emergencies. By God, why couldn't I have just stayed, even if only a little longer? I can not allow my emotions to get the best of me. The work must go on. I shall study this thing further. May CF-X never reach the hands of the public and see the light of day.
End of journal.
This story is written in a journal entry format. It is a fictional story that I wrote for my 11th grade Creative Writing class. Our assignment was to write a story about either a dystopian or utopian future. I chose to create a dystopian, post-apocalyptic future. This was a set of journal entries I wrote to show how the world came to be the way it is. I have been thinking about making a series based on this, so please 'like' and/or share this if you are interested in seeing that happen.
Dr. Christos Frost is a chemist/biologist. Lately, illness has been taking it's toll on the population, including his wife, Myra, who is suffering from heart disease. He does not wish to lose his wife and invents a highly experimental serum, 'CF-X'. After a fatal accident in the lab and losing his wife, Dr. Frost's serum is released out into the public. People rush to find the cure for their ailments, but the serum has a horrific, dramatic effect.