Birds of Plague
The Introduction

The year was 2070 and the world was now longer the bright and hopeful world that people once knew. It was now dark and fearful, ruled by a powerful order like nothing anybody had seen coming.

The power wielded by the new order made people afraid, but it wasn't just overwhelming fear that controlled them but the sickness, if the sickness got to you, if it didn't kill you then you were to be cursed for the rest of your life.

That is if the Thunderbirds didn't get to you first.

"Earlier today Dr Mishwa announced his new limb replacement technique, according to reports these new cybernetics are more realistic and more effective when compared to leading brands currently found in clinics and hospitals. As everyone knows, in the last decade limb replacements have become more of a necessity to the public due to the growing pandemics and aggressive diseases that are sweeping across the world." Jesse Reese reported reading from the autocue to the side of the camera, unseen by the audience.

The young blonde, green eyed reporter had once been eager and enthusiastic about her appointment as anchor of the news team, but as time went by, she had seen the horrors of the world for herself, the following death of their lead reporter Lisa Lowe had changed her outlook into a far colder one that she hid from both her fellow news people and the audience.

"Dr Mishwa will be a special press confidence in Tokyo to inform the world of his new techniques at 3pm later today, our reporters will be there to report it to you live." Jesse continued to report the news as the television screen crackled with the odd flicker of static, it's sound and light filling the motel room.

Reaching past the empty pill bottles and beer bottles I managed to find the remote to turn the television off, leaning back I looked up at the aging ceiling coloured what I could only guess was white once upon a time, before sitting up and looked around.

The motel couldn't be more than fifteen years old but the world hadn't been kind to the line of people that had owned the place during its lifetime. I could see the numbers of repairs done to the walls, the ceiling and even to the sink in the corner of the room, it's pipes leaking into the walls causing mold to take over near the window.

I sighed deeply as I got up and retrieved a half drunk beer bottle, walking over to the small bathroom next to my bed, I kicked the takeout wrappers out of the way, the paper and plastic thrown on the floor evidence of my repast from the last few days. The bathroom light flickered into life as I pulled the cord, forcing me to blink away the stinging in my eyes from the sudden brightness, almost unwillingly I walked to the mirror.

Looking into the marked and dirty mirror I ignored the dark rings around my eyes, I moved the mirror to one side to reveal the medicine cabinet behind, grabbing the pill bottle that I had put there before shutting it and running a hand through my messy hair.

Opening the pill bottle, I looked at the tablets it contained and wondered why I continued to take them.

Why did I continue taking pills that were not only a terrible yellow in colour but tasted like artificial banana favouring that left a terrible taste afterwards.

The pills.

They had advertised them as one of the modern miracles of the world, after the plague that has spread across the world had been identified, the World Medical Organisation had quickly found a way to suppress its growth in those already infected or to help with the early symptoms until a cure or immunisation could be found. 'A way to stop this from killing me...' I thought before popping two of the tablets.

I quickly grabbed the sink, my knuckles turning white as I grabbed the porcelain, squeezing my my eyes shut as I forced myself to swallow the tablets. Even after five years of these tablets, it hadn't gotten easier to get them down.

Grabbing my beer bottle, I downed what remained before shuffling back to the bedroom, dropping down onto the bed I reached out to turn the light off, placing the pill bottle on the table by the bed before discarding the bottle onto the floor.

I covered my eyes and could see unwanted memories of days gone by, when I use to have a family that loved me, a life that had meaning and this plague was just a distant nightmare.

My eyes burnt as memories assaulted me, the feelings they dragged up far worse than the near-fatal illness that wracked by body, the pills finally took effect as I slipped down into a dreamless sleep, welcoming the darkness that would be my respite before the new nightmares that would await me the next day. I truly believe that the memories were the greater plague of the two.

This story, my story, isn't a happy one.

This is how I died, and how I helped save the world from hell itself.

This is the story of how I destroyed the Thunderbirds.