The outbreak and withered lotus
Chapter one: Is death worse?
Oh lotus you are clean of vices and untouched by impurity.
You always rise from the murky waters merrily
You are free from the good ol yin of tyranny
Oh you suffer from the wicked side of impunity
...When the world falls apart, You are alone in your misery
You come falling down in the sarcastic warmth of irony
Yet you rise back up and that is your only difference from me...
I saw myself in this dream once. My subconscious mind molded a world of agony and made me go through it. I saw myself in a group of people. We were all bands of people trying to survive. So we had to kill. I had a gun. I had to keep people from killing each other. I had to kill...
Our hope went down as people were consumed one by one...food was running out...those who went crazy under the pressure were no better than the ones consumed.
But we are all nice people, right? The average mailman who smiles at you everyday.
That old kind-hearted baker from across the street.
Your old buddy from campus who you've met after a long time.
The neighbor that seemed like a jerk at first but turned out to be quite the drinking buddy.
The person you shared a few jokes with on the bus ride back home.
Heck, even the now-mature bully from elementary school. And let's not forget your best friend who just happens to be a girl!
Overall we are all pretty decent folk; with loving hearts and friendly faces. But what happens when when the world has been turned upside down. When these faces shed away and we show our true selves. When are forced to choose. When our true moralities are tested and your survival is based on your choices. Would you still show compassion and give what you have so little of? Would you still save people even though you are putting your group in danger because of it? We'll see...
The weak die off fast and first. Some of them adapt and survive. But it's how you adapt that defines your true self. There are those who choose the beastly way, donning the quote 'survival of the fittest' shield themselves from their conscience. Then they 'survive'.
Enter the world where your compassion attracts betrayal. Betrayal provokes Anger and depression. Anger will lead to stupidity and stupidity... Well it ultimately means death.
The name's Ron stoppable. I'm a dumb loser who just happened to survive the epidemic up until this point, through dumb luck or whatever you wanna call it. But I survived.
I always used to see the bottle half-full. I had hope in humanity and what the world had to offer. I was a wreck but at least I could look at myself in the mirror. And yet most of all I had hope in her... I had hope...
Nowadays... I don't know anymore... It feels like a back and forth rhythm that leads to nowhere. I go around from this town to that town; just hoping to find some civilization; some tiny shred of indication that tells me I can survive this. Or at the very least some dried or canned food at the bottom of a trash can. And what do I end up with?
Disappointment... That's the only thing around you these days; it just keeps eating away on your sanity. Now tell me. How can someone cope with that? Well that's easy; you don't; you just go insane.
Here are a few things I've learned out there, among those THINGS:
*They don't stop looking for you.
*They don't stop coming.
*They don't care.
*They hunt you in your dreams.
*They are everywhere.
*They may even be inside you. They will take you before you know it. You won't know until it's too late. However you might just get lucky and lose consciousnesses before you find out.
*You don't trust the humans.
*The humans are worse than them.
Did I say humans in a way that makes me sound... not human? Well, I can't be far off. After all, I just murdered an entire family of farmers. And they weren't even consumed. That should tell you of the intensity of the situation, right?
No. It shouldn't so it doesn't. You won't understand. Not until I've told you my story. Not until you felt my pain.
Oh, did I say this is just a dream I saw? I hope it is. Just some figment of my crazy imagination; just a bit long and overly realistic. Because otherwise I'm going to have a hard time sending you the outcome of my story. For I will be dead by then...
So where do I begin? Let's see...
Well I could start off by telling you I used to around world, following her to save the people from their miseries about five days a week. Depending on her mood or the humans in need. It hardly makes any difference nowadays; what with the world turned upside down.
But anyway, it all started during one of these missions...