For two years the virus ravaged the earth, killing millions of people who contracted it. Contracted through the exchange of saliva and blood, the odds of survival were almost none. Now, thinking back, I believe the people who died were the lucky ones. They no longer had to live in this world, filled with death and destruction. Or so we thought.
The virus, named Perdition, killed you relatively fast. It would ravage the body with intense aches, high fever, and flu-like symptoms, for three days. Death was next. Some of the stronger ones could last a day or two longer, but it was almost inevitable once the symptoms set in. The worst part, there was a month docking period where the virus lived in you and there was no way to tell. No way to know. By the time the first person began to show symptoms, it had already spread like wildfire throughout the world.
The ones that did survive, well they endured a hell like no other. They all fell into deep comas, and as they walked the thin veil between darkness and the awoken world, vivid nightmares haunted them. For a year, they slept with tortured dreams, and when they woke, they were different. Most of them twisted versions of themselves. Angry, hateful, evil. Their minds were broken by the year of harrowing nightmares. Only a few recovered with their mind still intact. But even they were changed. I know, because I was one of them.
Things became worse. There was a great awakening in the ones that survived Perdition. Our bodies changed. We adapted… Or evolved, maybe. I remember the first video recorded person to awaken from the coma, a woman, let out a mighty scream, shattering glass and eardrums within a mile-wide radius. The second shot out of the window and flew off into the sky the moment his eyes opened.
We manifested powers, and when our powers awoke, so did the dead. Everyone that died from the virus was reanimated. Zombies became a real thing, no longer fictional creatures from Hollywood’s imagination. For years, those of us who recovered from the virus and remained whole, have fought against the zombies and our twisted counterparts who controlled the hordes. We protect the remaining cities of the world. Only a few remained in America, and we fight constantly to keep them intact and the people inside safe and healthy. It is a war we are losing.
At this moment, we are once again under attack. If survive, I’ll tell you more. My name is Moní Petton, but they call me Omnipotent.
I was hesitant to upload this story. So many lives have been lost due to Covid, but I felt that as a creator that wants to transport people from their troubles, it may be a way to lessen the impact this virus has had on us all. The story may continue based on the feedback I receive from it. Please, leave a comment and let me know what you all think.