sanction this outbreak - a virus conspires

20.01.45
O Earth, how many more of your children will fall before death's gape is sated with a glut of blood?
Despair and death are both thick in my mouth, driven as I am in the Virus' fantasies to be a consummate assassin, no more a messenger nor medic for my skills are far more suited to heralding oblivion. I pace, I scream, I rage within the restrains they have wrapped me in, and I get no closer to freedom.
Nor can I do anything to free my co-captives, these other poor souls who are no closer to waking from this nightmare than I. What can I do, dig my heels in, grab hold of a dying spirit, and decry the whiles of the Virus? Should I believe it would do me any good, I would rail against oblivion itself. To save myself, or even another, if only to so spit in the Virus' face. To think that someone could win...certainly there would be no other victory so sublime.

O Earth, how long until your surface is purged of the memories of these beasts, these destroyers who would slay each other until your very oceans were red?
Eradicate the humans. Expunge each cell. Capture and kill them one by one, delighting in the blood each death returns to the soil, the iron that someday we, in our immortality, may remold into steel, may fashion into new children of our own to let wander free and abuse this planet as they would. Laugh in glee as we tear these, the so-named children of God, from their rightful place as conquerors, throw them down in the dirt, make them taste what it is to be victims, as they have so often made us.
And over, and over, and over, until you are sick of the death or until the Virus has crept into every pulse, twined itself around every thought so that you exist only to give it corporeal form. How few, how rare are they who succumb to the first, to be murdered with those they have grown sick of murdering. How common the second, how often I see behind the eyes of my fellow-Mavericks the spiritless Virus gazing back at me, and laughing...laughing...


Contents of this document are © 2002 Kim Kondratieff.