Wait For "It"

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Approaching Oblivion

Vis-à-vis

It has become increasingly difficult operating this equipment single handed.



My thoughts have become sporadic and charred by my misfortunes. The small pittance earned from the sale has all but run out completely, pretty much making this whole thing pointless. Sorry for you, Thad, while your mother wiped the hard drive clean, she did not obliterate the cache. The information is retrievable. But, I fear, my deterioration may hinder any chances of me finding the cure. Why have you done this? Why? Were you bored? Did you want attention? What do you think you could have personally gained? I'm curious what you are seriously expecting/hoping for.

As for those of us who worked on the project, we felt we were doing mankind a favor. Our operation was covert from the beginning. We had no idea something as misguided as a falling chunk of space debris would not only take out one of our satellites, but also accelerate one of the many experiments which had not been properly safeguarded. We just didn't know.

The crew has scattered. Some ran away; frightened by what had happened. Many remained, trying to tighten security in the event some unforeseeable occurrence happens in the future. As for the "here and now," clean-up teams have formed to eradicate the errors I have made, both here in NYC and in London. Along with my co-workers (good luck, assholes), that bitch, Sakura, has left me here to die, running off on some idiotic tangent to find Thad. I still don't know who that little shit is, or why he's so hell bent on whatever "mission" he feels he needs to conquer!

I can only wait and see. If he's infected, as he claims to be, ... And, I see by some of the comments posted here, the infection may be spreading despite any efforts by the YMR solutionists. Living flesh is not concrete.

Eventually, concrete erodes and crumbles.

Overnight

My name is Carol Foster.

I am a member of the overnight nursing staff at St. Vincent's Hospital.

Mr. M was one of my many patients.
He left the hospital prematurely after his latest surgery
(taking his arm with him).
This laptop was one of the items I had retrieved from his apartment,
along with a brief journal, both of which he has left behind.

After failing several attempts at cracking the password,
I brought my 14 year old son down to the hospital to try his skills with the thing.
It turns out the password was "PASSWORD."
Mr. M is a fan of movie monsters as his icon was that of Godzilla.
There's also a "Guest"
(whom my son has not yet been able to crack this password),
with an icon resembling some form of tribal tattoo:
a symbol resembling a snake with a sword or dagger trust into it.

There's not much information on the laptop,
just a few odd videos, and some notes.
After checking his eMail contacts, (which there are only three) I found this blog,
which is highly outrageous and inappropriate to my mind.
The remaining contacts are to his management
and someone who I would assume to be his daughter.
I have sent the message of his disappearance,
but there has been no return contact.

As for Mr. M ... The tests have been coming back,
and it turns out his infection was not due to the bite from his neighbor!
In fact, "Richard" has stumbled in also showing signs of the same infection.
Mr. M's viral status must have been contracted while in Europe or, worst case,
before he initially left New York.

An agent from the CDC (Center for Disease Control) has locked down Mr. M's apartment building, and is currently assembling the roster list of both flights Mr. M has taken.

I will also try to decipher Mr. M's chicken scratch from his journal
and post any information I do find here.