The Story

Every story needs a beginning. . .

 The Story

It started out as all things do, small. At first there was a warning, stay inside if you feel any kind of flu-like symptoms, stay away from people who appear sick. Then one by one people began showing symptoms that previous patients hand’t had before. Reports of burning rash and continuous delirium spread quickly around the globe, and with it came the panic. Friends were turned into enemies as the disease gradually began taking innocent peoples lives. A state of worldwide emergency was initiated just days before the disease claimed the presidential families souls. Chaos ensued. Panicked civilians resorted to crime in order to stay alive. Those who weren’t taken by the disease eventually fell into the hands of the robbers who had banded together. The streets were crowded with the bodies of those who couldn’t fight the disease.

Those who had survived the initial outbreak of the disease had been deemed immune to the mutations that followed, regardless of the fact that no one was willing to test their immunity.

The larger cities were of course the first to fall to ruin. Fires burned the once glorious buildings relentlessly, rodents and wild animals roamed the streets and picked off anyone foolish enough to venture unarmed. Those who fled before the panic took the globe sought refuge in the more deserted, forested areas of the world and were not heard from again.

Ever so slowly the fall of technology began. All activities considered job related had long since been abandoned and the now quiet power plants stood as nothing more than haunting shells of the promise they once provided. Soon after the fall of the lights came the shortage of fuel, things like cars and heat source became the of urban legend to the few denizens of the planet that struggled onward. The cities proved to be useless, with their blankets of bodies and the fear of the disease driving people even farther away from the homes they once lived in. Humans most primitive instincts began to replace those of luxury that once lead the planet. The few clans that remained retreated into solitude, to places where they believed they might be safe at last. 

Barely a year after the outbreak 75% of Earths population now littered its barren streets. If one were to take a now and then approach at the world they might come to the conclusion that at least 50 years had passed. That the world should be rebuilding itself after such a horrible tragedy. If only they could see the nightmare that was lurking just around the corner. 

In the cities that the world had left behind a new threat was stirring once again. 

In the cities that once stood above all else, the dead were beginning to walk once more. 

*Update*

Hello all! 

I am terribly sorry that I have not been posting as regularly as I promised I would. Personal problems and such have gotten in the way and I haven't had as much free time as I would like to have had. I apologize and I plan to get back on schedule starting soon! 

On a side note, I have begun writing something like a novel and may be spending a lot of time on that piece, would anybody be interested in chapters being posted here if I ever get around to typing them up? 

As always, feedback is appreciated and once again I am sorry for such a long break! 

Thanks!
~Misa.

Speak

Speak 

Her whole life the girl had been told to always tell the truth, to always speak her mind, and to always stand up for herself. Never once had she been scolded for speaking by anyone in her village. Sure there were a few people who cast dark looks her way when she’d pitch in during adult discussions, but none bothered to speak against her ideas. She was a smart girl. Always paid attention in classes, questioned what needed to be question, and, made such lovely conversations with her teachers regarding the subjects that she had been considered as somewhat of a genius compared to her other peers. Her faith in her morals was an impenetrable steel wall, once she decided right from wrong there was no one who could change her mind on the matter. The elders of her village always told her father that her quick tongue and sharp mind would eventually get her into trouble as she grew up, to which her father replied with sharp words of anger along the lines of, ‘You can’t raise her, I am her father.’ 

Needless to say, the girls tongue did get her into trouble. It was a boringly dull evening when the King’s sentries had arrived with the announcement of the tax increase. Maybe because it was so uncomfortably warm that her mind wasn’t in the right place, or maybe she was just irritable because of the fact that her work in the mines didn’t go as well as she hoped, but for some reason the girl of only 16 spoke out against the aged, esteemed man. Her tongue was sharp and her words were like fire. For a moment after she had finished her rant the man did not react, then, with a swift tap of his  cane she was whisked into his carriage and taken down from her mountain home and to the kingdom below where she would soon see questioning from the most hardened man himself. 

The man had no charges to press against the girl, none beside the fact that she stole his pride from him which certainly wasn’t punishable by imprisonment, so the man made something up. His long and drawn out story of her anger turning to violence at the sound of his decree soon spread all over the land, far and wide, turning the young girl into an example of what happens when you stamp on the law. The man, as sly as a rat, twisted his already ridiculous lies into a more demented plot, a plot of rebellion against the King himself. The words reached the King, the punishment was dealt, and now the man sits beside the King on his own high throne, the title of ‘Hero’ planted in front of his name as he sits on a throne of lies. 

Interrogation had been horrible to say the least. The girl lay in her cell, arms and ankles shackled in cold iron that had so much weight that she couldn’t escape even if she tried her hardest. The King’s dungeon keeper told her of the charges against her, of her apparently devious plot to assassinate the King and rule the kingdom herself like some kind of glorious conquerer. Of course none of this made sense to the girl, especially since she had no intention of even setting foot in front of the King in the first place. No matter how many times she begged and pleaded, bribed and yelled, the guards would not believe her words of truth, so she resorted to not speaking at all. She ignored the guards demands for her to speak countless times, always clenching her fists and looking straight ahead as they prodded her for answers, people she may be working with, people who knew of her brilliant plans. 

The guard comes in and forces her into an upright position, holding her face in his hands in quite a rough manner, so that she is forced to look into his grimy eyes. He orders her to speak, to say any word, any at all. Every fiber in the girls being is telling her to say whats on her mind, to try once more to explain what really happened to the men, but she cannot. For in the back of her mind she can still hear her elders predicting how her words would be her downfall, only now she is realizing her mistakes far too late. 

No matter what they may say to her, the girl will not speak.