Detective

It was cold.
It was winter.
It was four in the morning.
There was a dead man's putrid rotting corpse in the back of an alleyway.
He had been there for at least a week.
Cats and rats and stray dogs had feasted on his eyes.
His face.
Beyond recognition.
The ID tag around his neck was registered to the Particle Enhancement Center for Life.
He was a slave; but that meant he was worth something.
They called it in over the netscape.
No known number.
No match.
Non existent.
A slave that belonged to no one.
That was where all the trouble started.
That was the beginning of the end.

His name was Winston.
Ironic.
Maybe.
He was no hero; they do not exist in this town.
Rather, they do not exist in this world.
Not anymore.
Apparently his name was Winston.
That may also be a lie; a fabrication.
A creation.
This corpse was just one more in a pile of dead that was New Salem.
A molten spew afeared in hell itself.
This was just another drop in an ocean.
Just another dead man, in a dead world, holding on to a dead city.
It made sense that he didnt see it then.
It made total sense now.
But back then.
Back then it was a haze.
He got sloppy.
But were getting ahead.
Back in New Salem, things werent at the boiling point yet.

This city was about be rocked from its foundations.
This city would cry out in pain.
This city would know fear and death and hatred and in its growth of understanding, come to accept the world for just what it is.
This city would turn from the sun and be shunned by the world.
This city would die.
This is New Salem.

Mr. Shades

I took the poison into my veins, drunk deep the savory wine of life.
And looking into the veiled fountain.
I saw my reflection was old and fading.
I saw the poison was taking over.
Down in the streets, it was written on every face.
This was a junk town.
And it was full of walking corpses.
High on the supernatural and feeding off the wan torchlight of a neon sign that reads "Cyborg Head."
High on the death and the life that flowed into his eyes and arms like a lovers embrace.
It was the poison.
Sucking the natural life from the streets like a stampeding virus.
They began to disappear.
The old worn and withered faces.
They began to cry and moan and cough in the night air.
One day they would be poxed.
Red marks all over their arms, face, hands, their whole bodies rotting right in front of us.
Junk town.
I still, I.
I still took the poison into my veins.
It was the opening of locked doors.
The embrace of god.
The happiness you always craved but could never quite reach.
The poison is a liar.
It swept the streets and killed the weak and intoxicated and sick and deficient of mind.
It killed them outright.
No joke.
Their bodies changed.
They lost their hair.
Their skin began to rot, then melt, from their bones.
Within hours they were dead.
From one measly flower.
One little thing.
The poison affected children and elderly most of all.
They died in massive numbers.
Too much to even think about.
Too depressing to speak on.
The poison killed most savagely.
But it also could bestow life.
Which was the most horrible thing of all.

Dr. Takagi

It began as fungus.
Temporal.
Usually akin to forests and swamp lands.
Low level danger.
It grew on trees that were dying, or at least thats what we thought.
At first.
Then it began to mutate.
Which was also normal, to a degree.
And we classified it as a sort of weed.
It grew over other plants and ate them slowly as it gestated its seedlings.
Then it mutated again.
Which was not normal.
Or not as normal.
It began to grow rapidly, with speed unrivaled.
We began testing, but it was too late.
14 researchers, myself included, took samples into the Toshinogori Biological Laboratory in Tokyo.
We tested the fungus on plants at first.
But then moved on to animals.
Rats and mice.
We found the fungus affected them as well.
Though in a different way.
About 10-15% of the animals died within hours of exposure.
Another 5-10% showed no affect at all.
The other 75-80% showed a total change in personality.
They became euphoric and lazy.
They stopped eating and drinking.
Many died.
When they did, a new mutation took hold.
The fungi would grow from WITHIN the host's body.
The corpse acted as an incubator for seedlings.
And when they were born, they burst from the stomach of the dead with violent abandon.
In this controlled environment, they could be contained.
But I knew even then, that it was to be our ultimate doom.
We all wondered what the affects on humans would be.
We didn't have to wait long to find out.
March 25th.
The day when it fell apart.
The first human to come down with infection by the plant.
Adam Allerton.
A socialite.
A billionaire.
Heir to the throne of his father's weapon's firm, Allerton Arms.
"someone who need be saved."
He was working in the Congolese Waste when he came down with it.
Rumor was Allerton wanted to weaponize the plant; before this tragic accident.
Rumor was he got a face full of seedlings and began to turn bright green in hours.
He lived for only another 15 days, by the count of Allerton.
Rumor was he didnt even make it that long.
Adam Allerton's death brought the plant to the forefront.
There was a full on media circus.
Then more cases.
And more.
What started out as an obscure disease, was becoming an epidemic.
Then it was becoming pandemic.
The world began to die.
There was nothing that could be done.
We failed to stop it.
And now we too shall die.