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First off, I just want you all to know that none of this was my fault, and none of you can fucking say otherwise. No, it wasn't my fault, it was those damn leeches. And then the nuns from that shit church just screwed things up even more. "Saving the ill in God's name" was what they kept saying. They ran a hospital in the village after this whole virus started up.

I doubt you even know what I'm talking about, so I'll tell you about it.

A guy was found dead in his shack by the woods. Not a lot of people knew him, but people started to feel scared after his death. The autopsy report said that he had some sort of illness. He didn't seek any medical attention, so they didn't issue him a death certificate. Then there was the fact that he was a hermit and no one spoke to him. He didn't have any friends or family, either. The only way they found his body was when the new paperboy in town thought he would actually come outside and went to his door.

"Sir?" he called when he got to the door. "W-would you like a Sunday paper? Hello?"

Then the poor kid opened the door to see if he was inside. I kind of feel sorry for him now. The picture's probably etched in his brain.

The body was sprawled out on the floor. He'd already begun decomposition, but something about how his corpse looked wasn't normal. He didn't have any eyes, just bloody sockets. Some parts of his skin seemed to be chewed away, as if he had been mauled by an animal. That was how his whole body looked, actually. It was like he was being eaten by something, just piece by piece.

So, of course, the poor kid ran away screaming. He kept screaming the same thing at all the adults around him.

"Oh, dear god! Someone get the police! For the love of god, he's dead!"

And after that, other people started dying. And you know what's funny? They all died from the exact same goddamn thing. So then the nuns from our only church decided that God was telling them to help these people that were still alive with this virus. So, they started a hospital.

This wasn't your ideal hospital. You know, one that actually helped people. I'd rather say that it was a hospice, in all honesty. It was just a broken-down, decaying building with no actual doors or windows. The beds were just creaky and uncomfortable boards with flat pillows and thin blankets. And it wasn't very sanitary, either. There were no IVs for the patients and you were literally breathing in sickness. That was why there weren't a lot of visitors. The place was more like a quarantine.

The nuns were basically the nurses there. They "took care" of the patients (which pretty much ended in each patient dying) and gave them medication that supposedly kept the virus under control.

I never wanted to go near that place. I didn't know the details of when the hospital first opened up.

I didn't realize that I would soon have to witness the awful things that happened in there.


I lived with my father and my little brother, Nathan. Our dad worked on the farms while Nathan and I went to school. I was usually the one to take care of Nathan since dad was busy. That was fine by me. I loved Nathan.

I turned 18 when things started to go wrong. My dad started acting odd and not like himself. He was sleeping more and not feeling well enough to do work. When I asked him to go to the hospital to get checked out, he refused. I thought it was because of the horrible conditions of that godforsaken place, but it turned out to be something else.

One day, he was too weak to even say anything. So, I carried him out of the house while he was asleep and took him to the hospital. I had to. I was desperate just to keep him alive. The nuns took him in and sent me away. Even if I was desperate, I knew I'd made a terrible mistake.

The next day, Nathan and I went to visit him. He was awake, still too weak to say anything, but managed to slightly curl his mouth into a smile when he saw us. I asked him how he was feeling, even though I knew he wasn't going to respond. But then he did something I didn't expect.

He spoke to me.

His voice was quiet and hoarse, and he only said three words: "I've found something."

He proceeded to bite hard into his hand. Alarmed, I stood up to go get one of the nuns, but he stopped me. I looked at where he drew blood on his hand and saw that the blood was quickly drying up. Where there should have been a mark from his teeth was only his blank, smooth skin, as if he hadn't bitten himself at all. Nathan and I only stared at him in disbelief, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Janet," my father took my hand and weakly gripped it. "I have become invincible."

And those were the last words I heard from him. I stood up and exited the hospital after that. Later, the nuns came to my house. They gave Nathan and I the news.

Our father was dead.

I can't even remember how I felt. He was dead. And just hours before, I was talking to him. Just hours before, he was breathing. Holding my hand. It didn't make any sense to me. What did he mean, he became invincible? What the hell was happening to him?

I didn't know the answers. I didn't want to know. All I was worried about was my brother. I didn't want him to catch this goddamn virus, and there was no way in hell I was taking him to that hospital.

I wanted to protect him.


I was too late. I was just too damn late.

I walked into Nathan's room and found him in bed, his skin dried up and withered, his eyes cloudy, and his voice raspy and cold. He glanced at me, then closed his eyes.

"I won't go to the hospital," he said.

I didn't know what to do. So, I made my choice. I was going to make a cure of my own.

As he slept that night, I took him from his bed and carried him to the basement. I laid him down on a table and shined a lamp over him so that I could see. Then I brought out my dad's old toolbox and took a knife from the kitchen. I took a deep breath, as I knew that what I was about to do would be the biggest mistake I ever made. Nathan slowly opened his eyes and looked at me.


My only choice was to ignore it. Hesitantly, I went on with my experiment.

I picked up the knife and started to cut open his arm. Then I picked up the pliers from the toolbox and cut the vein. As I thought, the bleeding stopped immediately and the incision I made closed. Then I used the pliers to cut off the fingers and toes. The fingers grew back in two minute intervals, the toes in four. Next, I used the knife to make an incision on the stomach and chest. Then I used a screwdriver to puncture the kidney. Nathan let out a pained scream, but I had to continue. I had to find the cure.

After so many methods, I had given up. Originally, I had thought that pain would cause the virus to weaken. I was dead wrong. I only had one thing left to resort to.

"It's just no use," I said angrily.

"W-what are you going to do?!" Nathan asked.

I picked up the drill and held it close to his head.

"The only way to stop to cut off all blood flow to the brain," I said hesitantly.

"If you're still alive after this...then nothing can kill a victim of this virus other than the virus itself."

Nathan only shook his head and cried, desperate to get me to stop. I wanted to stop. I wanted there to be something else, another cure that I could resort to. But there was nothing left. I started to drill into his head, hoping that the sound of the drill would drown out his screams. The drill hit the skull and kept going, digging deeper into the softness of the brain. I felt the blood coat my hands and seep into my clothes. And before I knew it, he was dead.

I found a cure. You can deny it all you want, but this was a cure.

My new goal was to find an answer. I wanted to know what the hell caused all of this. So, I went to the hospital, that horrid place I'd sworn to never return to. I walked down the hall and saw a nun pass me by. She had an evil glare I could have sworn was directed at me. I dismissed it and continued down the hall. At the end of the hall, I saw an elevator. The elevator looked old and rusted. The door was like a wall of barbed wire. When I stepped inside, the shaft shook up and down for a moment, then came to a halt. I looked over at the elevator buttons. There were only three: 1, B1, and B2. Out of curiosity, I pressed the B2 button.

The elevator moved fast, as if it were steeply dropping down. When it got to the second basement level, it halted abruptly, causing me to jerk forward. The rusty door creaked open to reveal a pitch black, large room. I stepped outside of the elevator and wandered. Suddenly, something began to wreak of a horrible stench. I followed the stench and it led me to something so disturbing that I began to vomit all over the floor.

In front of me was a pile of decaying corpses, their bodies ripped apart, maggots in their empty sockets, and flies buzzing around them. What really caught my attention, though, were various black slug-like creatures that were crawling on the bodies. They were clearly sucking the skin off of the bodies to reveal patches of meat and muscle and consuming it.

And seeing these creatures made me realize something.

I ran towards the elevator, desperate to escape that horrible sight and its awful stench. When I returned to the first floor, I left the hospital and ran home.


All I could do was think about just how much I hated those fucking nuns. It was their fault. They were the reason my father and brother died, and now the whole village is dying, too. All I could think about was getting revenge on them. At that point, I just wanted them dead.

I took a sledgehammer from the basement and returned to the hospital. I was targeting the nun running the hospital, Sister Mia, and found her in her office at the end of the hall.

The moment she saw the sledgehammer in my hand, she immediately panicked. She just sat on her knees, begging me not to hurt her.

How can I not laugh.

"Who was responsible for the epidemic?" I asked in a deep growl. "Tell me."

"I-it was me!" she said with tears rolling down her face. "It was me and the other nuns of the church!"

"Where did those things come from? Why are they killing people?!"

"I-I don't know...!"

"You do know!" I shouted. "Tell me what you did!"

"Okay!" she cried. "We found a nest of the leeches on one of the farms!"


"Yes! We didn't want word of an unknown creature getting around the village, so we hid it!"

"How long?"


"How long have you people been hiding this?!"

She suddenly fell silent. "It's been three years since we discovered it."

Enraged, I lifted up the sledgehammer. "You people," I growled. "This is your fault! It's all your fault!"

I wasn't going to let this chance get away. I swung the hammer into her head, watching as the blood and brains splattered on the walls like paint. For some reason, it seemed somewhat beautiful to me. Pleasuring. I stared at my work for a moment, then exited the room before any of the other nuns could notice.

I had a bright idea. There were still other nuns to get rid of. So, since most of the village was already suffering from the epidemic, there was no reason to save it anymore. I wanted those damn nuns to suffer.

So, I let it go loose.

I allowed the virus to spread. I let go of all of those ugly fucking leeches and let them mutate. Slowly, they reproduced and spread widely around the village. In less time than I expected, the whole village had caught this virus. I was the only one without it. A rumor went around the village about Sister Mia's murder. Some called the mysterious killer a savior, as they had opposed the nuns of the church. They called the "savior" Angel Trumpet.

I started to roam the village in a gas mask, armed with the same sledgehammer. I was ready to do my job. I was playing the role of Angel Trumpet, the anonymous savior.

The godforsaken village was in fucking luck. I had a cure and I was just about ready to let them see it.

But could I actually slaughter my own village?

Yes, of course I could.

I take pride in my work.

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