The following is a series of journal entries recovered from the ruins of Miami. They are dated at around a year before the Great Outbreak and were written by an individual infected with the White Death. This unsuspecting victim provides us with one of the best firsthand accounts of someone infected, showing his mental state as the disease progresses and takes control of the host.
Nothing is known about this individual besides their initials, AJ, written on the back of the journal's cover.
PHASE 0: Pre Infection/Initial Exposure
January 12th, 2068
Haven't left my apartment in weeks. This place doesn't feel like home. It hasn't for years. But I stay here, rotting. I don't have any reason to set foot outside. When I look outside the window, I don't see a world worth going into: the sky is dyed gray, and when it rains, which is almost every day, the water strips the paint off any surface it lands on. I haven't seen a flower for at least a decade. Sometimes when I'm very tired the plastic palms trick me for a moment into thinking they're real, but then I see them sticking out of the concrete and the illusion breaks.
But out there is still better than in this shit hole. Today I took a good look around the place and realized how awful it is. Everything is dim because most of the light bulbs are either shorted out or getting there. Junk that I'm too lazy to clean up litters every surface. I've created a sculpture in my sink that I'll term the leaning tower of dishes. My bathroom smells like something died inside it.
I haven't eaten for three days. Today I opened my fridge looking for food, only to find the one loaf of bread I had left covered in mold1. Probably I'll have to go buy something else to eat soon.
I stared at a screen for at least twelve hours today. I still have a movie running in the background. According to my "wellness" app my total screen time last week was seventy two hours. After all that I don't know how my brain hasn't turned to mush. I don't know how I'm still able to write. Maybe I'm not writing anything coherent right now and it just looks okay to me because I've lost my mind. I've heard that can happen with schizophrenia. I certainly feel like I'm going insane.
It's odd to think that I might be the last person on earth with an actual physical journal. I don't like typing things. Does that make me unique? I don't know.
Did nothing else today. You know what? "Today" became "yesterday" about eight minutes ago. I could date this part of the entry January 13. I should be going to sleep. Maybe I will or maybe I'll keep playing video games until the birds sing. Figuratively of course. There are no birds that sing.
January 13, 2068
I am writing this in bed, which is where I've been all day. I only stood up once to use the bathroom. My mattress is ruined. All the stuffing is spilling out of these holes that look like the work of some wild animal. I couldn't tell you how it's gotten so bad. And I lost my blanket itself so I only have the cover to use. Don't how that happened either. I see it as a reflection of my living space as a whole. It's not comfortable but I stay there because I have no reason to do anything else.
And the bathroom. My God the bathroom. It smells so awful. Not in the way you would expect it to, like piss, either. It smells like something rolled up and died in there. There's no way I could've messed it up that bad. It gets worse and worse by the day- when I went in there it was so bad I could not breathe. And it's spread out of the bathroom into the living room. When I'm in there, it smells like it's coming out of the ceiling vent. I'm at the point of trying to open it to see if there's anything in there.
Otherwise, nothing to report. Today marks the fortieth day I've spent indoors. I'm starving. Gonna have to go out and get food soon.
January 14th, 2068
Got sick of the damn smell. Found a screw driver. Went to the bathroom and I couldn't breathe at all in there. Had to put a clothespin on my nose to have a singular chance of making it out alive. Unscrewed the vent and what do you know, a dead rat falls out and hits me on the head. Lost my head and started screaming.
The rat looked like it was wrapped by a spider. It was mummified in this whitish yellow fungus. It had these little mushrooms growing out of its back. It was disgusting. And then I looked up into the vent. That same mushroom fungus stuff was everywhere on the inside in these enormous clumps. Once I saw a documentary about this freak spider that made these little holes full of silk and the inside of the vent looked exactly like a tunnel into one of those burrows. It was all flaking off and raining down on me like snow and I realized I was breathing it in and I got the hell out of there. Came back with a face mask, and the rat- maybe it was a mouse or something I don't know- was moving, squirming. Picked it up with some pincers from the kitchen and trashed the damn thing. Then I went outside for the first time in months to chuck the bag in the dumpster. Spent the next hour scraping everything out of the vent and did the same with all that.
I think the smell is gone now, especially since I sprayed the place down with air freshener.
But I have a cough now, and I think it's because I was breathing all that stuff in.
I'm not cut out for this.
STAGE 1: Inception
The virus has entered the host (in this case by air) and is taking root. By the end of this stage, it will have spread to the brain and begun the work of overriding the host as master of their own body. Minor physical symptoms akin to that of the common cold will become evident.
January 16th, 2068
I think at this point it's safe to say that I'm sick. I got all the symptoms of the flu or some bad cold. I mean, my nose is dripping all over the page while I'm trying to write this.
I think it might have been the rat.
In fact, I'm almost sure it was the rat. I haven't been outside for so long, there's nothing else that could've gotten me sick. And I can feel it most in my chest when I try to breathe. It feels like I can't get enough air because something is squeezing my lungs. I think it might be because of those spores I was breathing in. But this place is a cesspool anyway. Any of the garbage could've gotten me sick. Maybe it's because of the outside air. Is what I like to think. I just hope whatever this is doesn't kill me.
You know what might kill me first? Hunger. Today I ordered some Asian stuff. It cost me thirty bucks and it was nowhere near enough food to make up for three days of an empty stomach. The monthly2 is coming up in two days. After that I'll have enough money to buy groceries.
The only way I can keep from losing it at this point is to not think about the rat. Or mouse, or whatever. Every time it does cross my mind I want to throw up. I didn't touch it, but that brief contact when it hit me on the head- it felt moist. Slimy. And I breathed some of that stuff from the vent in. Even if I'm not sick because of it, that stuff got into my body at some point. It’s a sickening thought.
God, even as I'm writing this I'm feeling worse. I've got a headache now. That's probably because it's two in the morning.
You know, I realized I haven't heard an actual human voice in weeks. The last time I even heard my own voice was in the bathroom when I started swearing because of the rat. That's depressing. But what can I do? There's no one who I want to talk to, no one who wants to talk to me. And that's my life.
Maybe whatever I've caught should kill me.
January 18th, 2068
I don't think I'll be able to write very much today, but I'll try. My head hurts. Pretty sure I have a fever. It's boiling my thoughts and I can barely get anything down on the page.
I got my deposit today, eight hundred dollars appearing in my bank account, courtesy of the UBI2 system. I would have gone out to buy food but I don't think I'm in any shape to do that. There was this one time this morning when I coughed so hard I threw up. Sometimes my lungs are so full of crap that I can't breathe at all.
Maybe I should go see a doctor or something. But I can't even walk, and I don't trust those robo-docs anyway. I keep hearing stories about how seven out of every ten diagnoses are incorrect, or something like that. You'd think after all this time those things would have gotten better, but it seems like they're just getting worse. They keep poisoning the air and the water, saying it's for the robots, but the robots don't seem to be doing any better.
One more thing before I try to fall asleep: When I was born, we were still trying to get back to the moon. This morning, after I threw up, I saw a news report saying that the martian and europan colonies are threatening to stop sending resources down if we don't start paying them better. It doesn't seem right to me that we have robot doctors and people living on mars, and I'm sitting here in this apartment with a bad cough. I've got to have more potential in this world. There's got to be something more I can be doing.
If I survive this, I think I will try to change something for the better.
January 19th
Read the last sentence in yesterday's entry. Might not happen. My head hurts. My back burns. Could not stand up. Could barely pick up the journal. It's hard to write. Try to look close, everything blurs and melts. I can't think straight. I can't think at all. This journal is covered in mucus and spit from me coughing on it. It's not looking great.
STAGE 2: Manipulation
As the virus grows in the host's brain, it will begin to manipulate the brain's signals to make the host more sociable and thus infect others. The virus can now also alter the host's very perception of reality by tampering with their brain, which includes deluding them into believing that the disease is in remission. By now, treatment is almost impossible, as removing the fungal growths may harm the host. The virus cannot be stopped.
January 21st
Seems like forever since my last entry. I'm feeling much better now. Not healthy, everything still hurts and I'm wheezing a little bit, but not as much as I was before. I guess this was one of those bugs that get really bad for a little while and then goes away. I still don't know what to make of that rat. But I think I'm okay now.
I went down to the market3 for groceries today. On the way, I saw my next-door neighbor. Hold on a second, let me remember her name. Charlotte. Yeah. Anyway, when I saw her, I waved, for some reason. And she looked at me strange for a second, but then she waved back.
I doubt she remembers my name. But it's nice that someone at least acknowledged my existence. Especially that someone.
Other than that, nothing happened.
Except I've been thinking- I had a lot of time for that while I was sick- and I realized that my life is worthless. I mean, I've kinda known that, but this time it hit me like it never has before. And it wasn't a terrible realization. It didn't crush me. Instead, I think it freed me. I have nothing, and therefore nothing to lose. The world might be ending soon from the looks of the reports I keep seeing about the outer colonies. They're threatening war if they don't get proper pay. So I might die. And when I saw Charlotte today I thought, wouldn't it be nice to have someone to spend the end of the world with?
It couldn't hurt. I have nothing to lose.
I think I should go to sleep before I start thinking crazy things.
February 1st
You won't believe this, I mean really, you won't.
Today was a great day. That's the first time I've written that in, well, years. Even if tomorrow is awful, I'll be able to look back to today and smile. Why was it so good? Well, let's start with the smaller things first.
I cleaned up my apartment, or at least my living room area. I threw all the trash away and even used my vacuum on the floors for the first time in months. Hard to say why I did it, but I think it had to do with another huge bit of good news.
One other thing is that I've started working out. Nothing crazy. Just all the things I can do right here without any equipment, so pushups, squats, etcetera. I know there's a gym here that I've never been to before, and maybe I'll start going there soon.
I guess I've just decided that I don't want to be miserable any more. My life kinda sucks right now, but it doesn't have to be that way. This is good, what I'm doing. Taking steps down the right road. Tomorrow I think I'll clean the kitchen. Or my bedroom. Order a new mattress and some bedding.
Don't think I've forgotten about the biggest piece of news, I'm just still trying to process it. Now that I think about it I'm probably overreacting, and it's not that big of a deal. But I'll tell you about it anyway.
So this morning I was looking for cake recipes online, because I was craving cake and I didn't want to go buy one since I hate grocery cakes. They're fake, and yes, I know most groceries are synthetic, but the cakes actually taste fake. Anyway, I didn't have half of the stuff I needed to make it, so I went to buy it. When I was there, I ran into Charlotte. We were both getting eggs, I think it was. At first I didn't say anything to her, we just kind of each got our stuff. But when we got done we both went to the checkout at the same time. These repair bots were fixing up the checkout right then, so I ended up waiting with her for them to open it. And for some reason I decided to say hello. She smiled and she was nice, and we started a little conversation while we were waiting. I don't remember everything we talked about. The weather, how it kinda sucked that the eggs were fake, and how the grocery store seemed emptier than usual were some of the topics. And she remembers my name, by the way.
I don't know if it's any one thing from our conversation that I see as such a huge win, other than the conversation itself. She seemed happy while we were talking. Maybe I could say that I felt some kind of connection, but more likely that's just dumb. I know how easy it is to misunderstand these kinds of things.
I don't think she's married or anything. That means she probably doesn't want to get married.
Valentine's day is coming up. Maybe I could give her a valentine or something. Do people even do that? I don't know. I don't know anything, except that I'm getting ahead of myself. Once I whip myself into better shape I should feel better about talking to her.
I guess I look pretty good already. I'm a little pale and I look tired, but so is everyone else. Charlotte looks a little pale and tired. I'm going to sleep.
February 3rd, 2068
I've been on a roll. I finished cleaning up, almost. The only room I have left to clean is the bathroom. I don't know if I've done a great job cleaning, but it definitely looks better than before. I also ordered new bedding. Can't wait for that to come.
I also went down to the gym today for the first time in my life. There was only one other guy there, so I didn't feel too stupid. For the most part I kept it simple. I just did some pull ups, which I can't do at home because I don't have a bar. While I was there, the other guy asked me if I could spot him while he was lifting weights. I had no idea what I was doing, but I agreed anyway. I just kinda stood there while he did his thing. Afterwards I introduced myself. His name is Sean, and he lives one floor down. He's a little short, but he's built like a bear. He was very friendly. I didn't know that there were any friendly people left on this planet.
Speaking of the planet, well, I'm not very optimistic. It rained today, and the drops left black streaks on my window. All the news was about how mines all over Mercury are on strike. In fact, the whole government over there officially decided to cut us off. The colony supervisor, the guy Earth sent over there to keep them in check, gave a big speech. He said a bunch of stuff, and some of it kind of struck me. He said that the colony doesn't owe us anything. They're independent, they don't need us. Earth is dying, he said, but the colonies are just starting. It isn't right that they should keep giving us life support when it costs them so much and it doesn't seem to be helping us either. I think I agree. I just hope it doesn't turn into a war. Who am I kidding? Of course it's gonna be a war. We've damn near used up everything we've got, everything we need is up there, and we aren't about to let that go without a fight. But I can't do anything about that, so why should I worry?
My life is actually pretty good right now, or at least it's getting better. Except for a few things.
I think I have an allergy to something inside my apartment. There's this rash that's growing up all over me. It popped up all over my back first, and now I've noticed it spreading to my arms and legs. Normally I wouldn't pay very much attention to something like that, but sometimes it gets so bad that I scratch myself to the point of blood. My back is covered in these tiny scratches. Sometimes it gets hard to sleep because it feels like there are ants crawling all over me. It gets worse at night. And I can still feel that sickness lingering. Not bad or anything, just aftershocks. It's just all the original symptoms I was dealing with, but a lot less severe. Nothing to worry about.
Besides, I've never felt better. For the first time in a long time, I'm actually excited to wake up tomorrow.
February 10th, 2068
You know, a lot happened today, even though I can only think about one thing. I'll try to give everything equal attention.
The mattress I ordered finally came today, and even though the cover I ordered doesn't fit, I'll still be sleeping much better. You know, I almost felt bad taking the old mattress out to throw it away. Except it was disgusting. When I was throwing it out, I thought I noticed some mold growing on the bottom. I didn't look too close, but if there was some kind of mold, it would explain the rash. Which, I might add, hasn't gotten any better. But I can't dwell on that, though. Today was a good day.
Today I was talking to Sean and we happened to end up on the topic of movies. He thinks of himself as a film buff, which is weird, because you don't usually get a person who's a combination of gym bro and film buff. Anyway, he was trying to recommend all these different indie films to me that he thought I hadn't watched. It was kind of funny to see him get surprised when I knew all of them. I even had some recommendations for him. He asked me how I'd watched so many movies. I wanted to tell him that watching movies was all I had done almost every day while holed up in my apartment. I didn't say that, though.
I almost forgot what having friends is like. Sean's a great guy. I wonder if there's some kind of club here I can join. Sometimes I get ads for this indoor volleyball thing, but the issue is I can't play volleyball. If I don't find anything, that's okay. I still have Sean. And Charlotte.
I looked at some of my past entries and I realized that I have been thinking about her way too long. It's embarrassing how many things I wrote down about her. I guess it kind of worked out though, because, you're never gonna believe this, I got her number today. I've been running into her a lot lately since I've been going out more. We've had a few more small-talk conversations, but today I saw her eating at this restaurant I passed by. We talked for a bit, and then, well, it just kinda happened. I told her I thought she was pretty and I asked for her number so we could plan a date.
I don't know what's come over me. I just feel so great. About everything. I say hello to random strangers now, I even met my other neighbor, this little old lady named Mary. I saw her on the stairwell and I just talked to her. I found out she used to be a journalist before the robots did everything, and she even interviewed the colony supervisor of Mercury once, just before he was about to be sent over there. That's cool. Also she lost track of her kids and grand kids three years ago and has no idea about where they could be. That's kind of depressing.
Again, I don't know what's going on. I just have this urge to talk to real people, whereas before I would've ignored everyone. It's a little strange.
Damn. I was scratching my arm while writing this, and I just noticed that my fingernails are covered in blood. This rash sucks. I just hope it goes away before my date.
Speaking of which, I gotta go. Charlotte is texting me.
STAGE 3: Accelerated Decay
Much less subtle than stage two. The mold has enveloped the host's brain. It is free to manipulate their reality any way it likes, from memory loss to hallucinations. Some perceive the virus speaking to them in the form of an internal voice, which sometimes results in religious fervor. Under the mold's influence, they will become even more socially active, ignoring or hiding physical symptoms until they become too serious and force them to withdraw . These include swollen lymph nodes as a result of the mold spreading to the blood stream and serious coughing and sneezing as it takes over the respiratory system. Rashes become more prominent and irritating.
However, the host will not notice any of these issues because the virus blinds them to their own deterioration.
February 6th, 2068
I went out with Charlotte today. I was a little nervous, considering that this was my first time in years going out on a date. But it went great. We went to this coffee shop. We talked for about an hour. I learned a lot. She moved here from Colorado with her family when she was in high school, and stayed. Her parents live in our building, on the second to last floor. Her favorite movie is 500 Days of Summer, which is good because that’s pretty much the only romcom I’ve ever watched. I'm not very into those movies. It probably isn't the best idea to tell her about my indie stuff. She's religious, which is something she made very clear to me about halfway through our conversation. There's a church here apparently, that she and her parents go to. I can respect that, having standards and morals to live up to. When she asked where I stood on the issue, I told her I was looking for something to fulfill my life, which is true, and that I was thinking about joining church before, which is not true.
Well, I guess I was wanting to join some kind of community.
Overall, I think our date went pretty well. There was one moment when she asked me if I had any hobbies, and since I don't I panicked and told her I play video games. I could tell that wasn't the right thing to say, because she gave me a weird look. Before she left she told me she wouldn't mind doing it again, so I guess that means I didn't mess anything else up. I hope she didn't notice all the blood underneath my fingernails from scratching apart my skin.
It's getting worse, all over me it's getting worse. I took a bath a while back, and I washed off so much dry blood from my back that had collected there from just me scratching it. I look like I've been chewed by rats since I've been scratching so much. I can hardly sleep at night.
Looking at the rash itself makes me sick too. My skin looks like pictures of Death Valley- it's all cracked, and it's got the color of raw meat. I can't tell if that's from the blood or the rash itself. I don't know what to do. If this doesn't get better over the next week, I'll go to the doctor.
I guess now I have to go to church, since I told Charlotte that. In fact, I think I'll sign up for their soup kitchen or whatever volunteer stuff churches do nowadays. I've been living for myself for long enough, it's time I give back to others.
Anyway, I should be going to sleep. Or at least I'll try to. I don't know if this itch will let me.
February 11th, 2068
I went to church for the first time since moving away from my parents this morning. It was... well, I regret not doing it sooner.
It's called Miami Covenant Chapel. It's on the first floor, tucked away in a little room out of the way of everything else. I don't think you could fit more than thirty people in there. There's a small stage or whatever it's called and then four rows of seats. A closet sized room in the very back serves as pastor John Rice's office.
I came when they had already started, because I couldn't find the church. There were no signs pointing to it or anything. Goes to show how our broken world treats religion.
There were about fifteen people there today. Outside of Charlotte I recognized my neighbor Mary. Charlotte was sitting next to her parents, who must've had her late because they look like her grandparents. I sat next to Mary, because I didn't know what Charlotte's parents thought of me.
Today's sermon was about how God speaks to us. Pastor Rice spoke about the story of how Samuel heard God's audible voice. He mentioned a lot of things from the Old and New testaments, examples of how God interacted with people. He spoke so well I could almost feel God's presence. When he finished, I realized just how much I had been wasting my life. I'd tried to pursue life on my own means, and ended up empty. I've been miserable for so long, not realizing that God created me for a beautiful purpose. That hit me hard. I started crying as the service ended, and Pastor Rice went to comfort me.
Through sobs, I told him all that I had realized and asked him if I could be forgiven. He assured me that I could be. After I regained composure, I asked how I could commit myself to the Lord. One thing led to another, and I gave my life to Christ right then and there. My baptism is in two weeks from now.
Before I left I told pastor Rice I felt called to service. It turns out, there is a soup kitchen at a homeless shelter downtown that runs every week. I signed up right away. They thanked me, saying that they didn't have nearly enough people. I was happy to help.
Out of all the improvements I've made to myself lately, this was the most important. There is still terror on the news, but today is a day for celebration. I am now a child of God.
February 15th, 2068
I haven't seen Sean at the gym for almost a week now. He almost never misses a day. I texted him, and he told me he's sick in bed with a cold. Happens to the best of us. I hope I didn't get him sick back when my symptoms were still lingering around. They're gone for good now, and the rash seems to be going away. It itches less, anyway, so I get decent sleep now.
I'm sorry I didn't update anything yesterday, it was my first day working at the soup kitchen and I got home very late. The work of God demands a lot from a man, but it is good work. I can tell I am doing much good for the lowly, the lost, the ones we are called to love because God loves them also. I think back to the days when I was trapped in this hole of an apartment, suffering in a hell of my own creation, unable to imagine a better world when the means to salvation was a few floors down. It's funny the way things work- I spoke to Charlotte thinking that she would be the cure for my loneliness, but in a truly Godly fashion she pointed me in the direction of what would fulfill my soul. She is a good woman. I am lucky she was sent my way.
I worried at first that my conversion was false, that I was only pretending so that Charlotte would approve me, but things have happened that have left no question about my salvation.
All my symptoms went into sharp remission as soon as I returned home from the service. God has healed me.
I have not asked about Sean's religion. I must find out if he is saved the next time I see him.
Since getting a bible from pastor Rice, I've taken to reading scripture before bed. Today's reading was from Matthew, 28:18-20 to be specific- the Great Commission. An excerpt: "Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you." I feel a very strong call to carry out these words of Christ. I believe that I have been very gifted in the realm of ministry. I will do my very best to follow.
God is good. Amen.
February 22nd, 2068
Today I have been blessed, truly blessed. I was preparing my breakfast when all of a sudden I felt an amazing Presence flood myself and the room. I was so overcome with it that I dropped a plate I was holding. As it shattered, I heard a voice speaking, as clear as day. "My child," it said, "You have been chosen. As I sent the Twelve out to baptize the world, I now send you- go and minister, go and bring my Word to every man, woman, and child. Let them know what I Am- the ruler and good creator of this world who shines his healing light on every one of His children. You are my child- go with this sign so that you may know I Am the Lord."
I felt light at my back and spun around. There was an immense glow outside my window, like the star of Bethlehem had positioned itself right in front of my eyes. I fell to my knees and cried, exclaiming, "Lord, Lord!" I bowed and worshiped for as long as the holy Light lingered.
I do not know why I was selected for such an amazing thing as direct theophany. I feel a sharp and terrible pain in my forehead, a small price for witnessing such majesty. It is so violent that I am scarcely able to write. As Paul was blinded for three days after his encounter, I am meant to rest for some time after this event.
Praise God! To Him be all the Glory forever and ever! He is the merciful One, the One of perfect grace who will rule for all eternity! To Him be the Glory! Amen!
March 8th, 2068
Today was a day of service. It was planned that the church would organize a food bank for the less fortunate in our community. Nearly every member of the congregation was supposed to assist, but when I came to the church the only one there was pastor Rice. When I asked where everyone else was, he told me that everyone was too sick to come. What's more, he himself was feeling unwell. The ministry had to be cancelled. I went home in a somewhat dejected mood, but the Voice of the Lord assured me that it was no setback. He told me that this was all according to His Divine plan. He told me something that I don't know how to feel about: If someone near me contracts a sickness, this is His way of telling me that I have reached them. The sickness is symbolic of their old self dying away
This seems strange to me, as, if God is all-loving, how could he curse His children with disease? But I suppose His reasoning is above mine. Something similar happened to me in the past.
Other than this, the only thing of note is that Charlotte has not been responding to my messages lately. Ever since I told her of my theophany, she has been acting strange. Perhaps, if that is enough to push her away from me, it is best for us to be apart. As much as it pains me to admit it, my work for the Lord should be above her or anyone else. If she breaks it off, I wish her the best.
Tonight's scripture: Romans 1:16- For I am not ashamed of the gospel. All glory be to God. Amen.
STAGE 4: Seizure
The mold has completely consumed the host. At this point, it will force them to completely withdraw from society, allowing the disease to progress unnoticed as the host locks themselves away and experiences a horrific metamorphosis. The mold has no more need for the host, and it will take full control, directly puppeting their body instead of manipulating them. The host becomes a prisoner in their own flesh, unable to control their own thoughts or movements.
March 12th, 2068
Today was not a very good day. I saw Charlotte again for the first time in about a week, saw her at the bank while I was collecting my UBI. She looked awful. She said she was sick, and also that she didn't feel like our relationship was working. A polite way of breaking up with me. She didn't say why, but I know why- the theophany.
After that lovely interaction, I got my money and went straight home, even though I was also planning to run some other errands. The Voice told me it was the best thing to do. I still thought it would be best to do at least one task before coming home, but when I tried- I can't explain it. I started on my way to the grocery store, and ended up going here. The Voice assured me. It's assuring me even now.
When I talked to Charlotte, I didn't feel anything. Even when she made it clear we were finished. I want to cry, I want to feel bad, but I can't. After I got home, I stood in place and stared at a wall until it was time to go to sleep. I didn't want to do anything else.
The Voice is telling me that it's all according to His plan. He says my purpose is almost fulfilled and I am about to become what he always meant me to be.
I want to go outside. I can't. The Voice says not to. It's not time yet.
I won't read scripture tonight, because I am very tired and my head hurts.
March 13th, 2068
It's hard to write. My hands are shaking. Today I stayed inside, like I used to before.
The rash is back like it never left. It appeared overnight, everywhere. On my back, arms, legs. It looks worse, but it doesn't itch. Maybe that's because all the feeling in that area is dead. My skin is white, it's flaking off. I haven't noticed before but my clothes are covered in it, my skin. My whole home is covered in it, it looks like a snowstorm came through.
My head hurts. I spent the whole day on the couch in front of the TV, except I didn't want to turn it on.
When I saw the rash I thought I might go see a doctor. But I don't want to. This is all part of the plan. I'm becoming something beautiful.
March 14th
Today I gave myself a papercut on this journal. The blood was blackish red edd-
Sorry. Sometimes my hand moves by itself now. Like my legs. I tried to walk around the living room today. I fell a couple of times, but I managed it after an hour or two. The whole time I didn't move my legsssss. They moved themselves.
I am at peace. The Voice always whispers, and it soothes me. I am a vessel for the will of God. I will accept my fate with grace and joy.
march 15th
I woke up in the bathroom today, standing up. My legs must have moved themselves. i was staring at the mirror. I have a white patch on my face, like makeup, like the rash. I remembered something like deja vu in there, and it made me laugh. I can't remember it now.
im becoming always better. This is not my body. This is My body.
march 16th
My God. It was this thing all this time. None of it was me, none. I can hear it chattering in my skull. It is not my skull any more. It showed me something today while I was dreaming:
I was standing on the pulpit of the church, except it was much bigger. The congregation was there, and also a lot of faces I recognized as the homeless who had come to our soup kitchen. Sean and Charlotte were in the front row. They were holding hands. Everyone had white spots all over their faces, and these silky cobwebs covered the ceiling and everything. The people were praying, in unison, to me. Except I knew it wasnt me. I turned around and saw a huge rat covered in mold, twitching and writhing. It was saying- "Thanks be to you, righteous one. You have brought salvation to your species. I bless you. I thank you, for you have been a good and faithful servant. Do not fear. You and I will sooon be one. Through you and all such servants I will make my kingdom upon this earth."
Now it is telling me that everything will be okay. It will not stop talking. I cannot fall asleep. I don'tthink the Voice is God. I don't think God had anything to do with this. I cannot fall asleep
march17
I killed them. I killed everyone. Everyone is going to die like I am. I tried to warn them. I tried to text Charlotte. She never responded. I am dead I am dead. "Cursed be the day I was born!" I need to run. somewhere.
march18
Help me..
iam.
minemine.
We are one.
This shell is mine.
&&&
Six months after the final dated entry, the first interplanetary war broke out. A few colonies sided with Earth, the rest formed an alliance and declared war. The chaos that ensued provided the perfect cover for the White Death to spread unnoticed, unchecked, until half of all humanity not killed in the war was infected. The remainder found themselves fighting an enemy more horrific than anything seen in the history of mankind, a monstrosity that cannot be seen, one that may lie unnoticed in your closest friends and family.
But even when extinction seemed inevitable, we rose up and defeated it. We failed to destroy it, but it is contained in small infected populations trapped on Earth. Even so, we must stay vigilant. The purpose of this document is not to disturb you, but to educate you. Keep a close eye on those around you. If you believe someone to be infected, do your civil duty and immediately turn them in to your nearest government office, even if that someone is yourself. The future of humanity depends on it. The White Death is no mere disease, it is a cunning entity, capable of strategy and intelligence. It will stop at nothing to spread.
1This is likely referring to common mold and not the White Death.
2Much of pre-war labor was delegated to machines, thus leaving most of the human race without work. The government on Earth solved the issue of money by sending a small, monthly amount of money to its citizens to keep them afloat.
3The owner of this journal most definitely lived in what was known as a “one-building city” or OBC, a mega structure that contained both residential areas and other facilities one would find in an actual city so they could be accessed without leaving the building.