Marie
Marie (Sock_Monkey) is sick and tired of hearing about the hurricane. She knows of your losses, you can stop telling her. She is sympathetic and very sad for you, but she doesn't want to hear it anymore.
Before you judge her, and think her a cold person for her desire to no longer hear your tales of woe, you must understand. She is one of the few who knows the truth. She can not share the truth with anyone, and the desire to reveal it all becomes stronger with each tale of a life destroyed. It is quite the predicament she is in. To reveal the truth would mean certain death, but to live with the burden is quite unpleasant. I ask that you lighten this burden and honor her wishes. Do not speak to Marie about the hurricane.
I shall perhaps make it easier for her as well, since I am in a position to tell what she can not. I have nothing to fear, I am already dead. She is only obligated to deny the truth of the following tale.
Perhaps you are already shaking your head, saying to yourself "I've heard all the conspiracy theories, they blew the levees, they wanted to get rid of the 9th ward, President Bush does not care about black people, it's all garbage. It was a damn strong storm and it tore the city up, no one was prepared to deal with it, end of story."
But it's not the end of the story, nor the beginning. There is a lesson to be learned from us, and what we caused, and how well our government can hide our sins- most unfortunately a part of that is silencing those like Marie, though she is still alive and is quite happy about that.
For years I have toiled 15 hours a day in my laboratory, if not longer. It was my life. Marie was a dear friend who would visit frequently, and her proximity to the events that unfolded has doomed her to a life of lies but has allowed her to continue her life in the best way she can. Were she a step further removed, it is likely she would have been silenced in the most permanent way.
She would stop by for lunch, and she was terribly curious as to what I was doing in my lab. I allowed her entrance on occasion, to satisfy this curiosity. It was on one such day towards the end of August that everything went so terribly wrong. I was removing a few tissue samples from the cooler to show her under the microscope, when I began choking on the gum I was chewing- a lesson to all scientists out there, you should always heed the basic rule of not eating in the lab.
I was distracted, and stepped back into a table, knocking it quite severely. Marie stepped forward to help me, and as she did, she knocked a tottering beaker from the table and it's contents fell on my leg. My assistant, Gregory, looked on in horror, but we each managed to play it off for Marie. The gum came loose with a mighty cough, and as we laughed at the mess, I immediately removed Marie from the lab. She did not at this point understand what was to come. In fact, there might still be a few bits that she doesn't fully understand, which is just as well. She knows enough.
With Marie gone, Gregory and I began to clean up the mess. By the time we had gotten all of the chemical off the floor, I was beginning to feel different. Gregory was feeling the effects a bit, but I didn't believe that his exposure was great enough to put him at risk. Had I been brave, I would have shot Gregory at that moment, followed by a round into my own head. But I was not brave, nor was he, and we must now face all the horror we caused, all of the lives we ruined, and this is indescribably terrible.
Is the curiosity killing you yet? What was the chemical, this chemical I left out so carelessly that was so terrible?
My research, which so many judge so harshly, was in cloning. As a side project, I had developed this chemical to rejuvenate cells that were dying. It was not a terribly complicated project, and it saved me a great deal of time because I did not have to recreate the cloned cells that failed, I simply added this chemical and they became functional enough that I could continue studying them. It was not a miracle creation, the cells always suffered from it, but it was good enough that I could continue to work with them for a short period of time. I did not create it to reanimate life, and I never would have intentionally used it for such, and I certainly never intended to test it on myself, while I was very much alive, and quite healthy.
But to admit the truth, it really was reanimation fluid. I really was a mad scientist for creating it. I knew this, to be perfectly honest, and if there ever was a time for honesty, this is it. Once, in the distant past, I had applied the chemical to a sample that had living and dead cells. And they all began functioning, though not very well, particularly the ones that were truely dead. But they did function. My ethics prohibited me from pursuing this any further, but I knew. I knew.
And thus, we had a chemical that causes the dead to live, and the dying to have prolonged life. And we had this chemical on my own skin, with little idea as to what will really happen because of it. I was delusional, I must say that again. I didn't think anything would come of it.
I did not become a, to use a fitting but silly term, a zombie. I was alive. Gregory was alive, and Marie was alive. But we became carriers. Marie was only affected for a few days, however, Gregory and myself are to this day. The difference I felt in myself after the accident was caused by the chemical integrating itself into every cell in my body. I did not feel ill, but my mind did register a change in my flesh. I ignored it. I'm a damn fool, and I ignored it, and I allowed Gregory to ignore it as well.
Had I been in a different city, it might have been years before I realized what my effect on others would be. But it wasn't another city, it was New Orleans. And between my lab and my home was a cemetery. In typical New Orleans fashion, those in this cemetery were not buried 6 feet under, their place of eternal rest is above ground, contained in cement and marble. I walked by this cemetery every day for years, and I did so on this day as well.
And that my friends, is the start of the story. As I walked by that cemetery, I caused the cells contained behind those walls to begin functioning. Marie had no doubt walked by that day as well, so they got a dose twice. And that was enough to begin the horror. As I walked by in the days that followed, I made it worse. I had banished the whole accident to the back of my mind, and was going about my business, all the while dooming so many.
With a storm in the gulf, that cemetery came to life. No one knew, we were all consumed by the storm. So many evacuated, so the timing of Katrina was a wonderful thing for the city, if it was not for the storm, I might have doomed the entire country to a plague of living dead.
I did not evacuate for the storm, and fittingly enough, I was the first to encounter those from the cemetery. I knew that I was to blame as soon as I saw them. They came out slowly, the ones most recently dead having the easiest time escaping from their crypts, the older ones taking much more time. Of course there were many whose cells we functioning but were not able to roam, but you could hear them moving in their coffins. It was terrifying. I am a scientist, I always have been, but when they came stumbling out the gates of the cemetery after the terrible storm, deep inside I feared that the apocalypse had arrived. I knew it was my fault, that there was not a God out to end the world, but I feared it was so.
I did not know what to do. I suspected that their cells would not function long, but I had no certainty. I was horrified, I wanted to escape. I took off on foot, and went to Gregory's home to review the situation with him. That was terrible in retrospect, as the two of us together was double the effect. We decided to search out the police and inform them. We wandered the city, trying to avoid cemeteries, but not doing a very good job at that. We found a policeman just outside of one, and I wish we had kept searching for another. But we spoke to him there, in front of the cemetery. And he thought we were mad, and he more important things to deal with. Our persistence got us each a new set of bracelets, and he sat us down on the curb and attempted to find someone else to deal with us. We sat there for hours, and eventually it became quite clear that we had not invented the situation we were describing.
Though the infrastructure of the city was crumbling, it came together a bit to deal with this situation. The feds responded quickly, but not quickly enough. It spread. Many of the cemeteries are close to each other, and it was quickly apparent that the walking dead had the same effect on each other that Gregory and myself had on them. It compounded itself. Not only were they awakening the cells of others, they were actually making each other stronger with exposure to each other. Their cells would die, only to be exposed again to the chemical and be reanimated once again. I realized that this could become an endless process. My fear was that it could not be stopped. We needed to get them all away from each other, away from myself and Gregory, where their cells could all revert to how they should be- dead.
At this point the feds showed up in force, and Gregory and I were shoved into a vehicle, driven out of the city, and taken to some compound where we were placed in what was a very secure, very contained series of rooms. It was not without luxury, and we had agreed that we needed to be contained in such a matter- that the feds had the facilities ready was admittedly a bit of a surprise, but not something to complain about. The driver of the car, a most unfortunate gentleman for having been assigned the task of getting us out of the city, was forced to join us.
We communicated with other scientists and both local and federal government officials through a telephone. We did our best to help advise them on the situation, but once they knew the basics, they took it out of our hands. I do not know how bad it really became in the city in the days after the hurricane in regards to the situation I created. I know that it was a terrible drain on an already taxed system, and that many people were left without help because help was busy dealing with my mess.
I believe they might have blown those levees. If they didn't, it was a happy accident. From my understanding, the massive amounts of water did a great deal in separating the dead from each other, and weakening the strength of the chemical and it's ability to sustain itself. They cleaned out the rest with explosives and fires. They simply destroyed the cells completely. The chemical remained, but they cleared the areas where they destroyed the dead.
And that is the truth, as Marie knows it. They brought her to the compound, though I was not allowed to see her, and tested her relentlessly. I too have been subject to endless tests, but I will not complain for myself. They found only the smallest traces of the chemical in her, and her body cleaned them out itself shortly. They allowed her to leave. Before she did, I was able to speak to her. They had me to outline the situation for her, I don't know why. I wish I had kept my mouth shut, then all she would suffer is a seemingly unreasonable intrusion from the federal government. I suppose they didn't think that would work, that she might fuss. But knowing the reason, she understands that she can not say a word. It's a terrible burden.
My own burden shall be lifted soon enough. I have caused thousands of people more pain than any one of them deserves. I have ruined the city. I should go down as notoriously as Hitler, but instead I will die anonymously, without having to answer for what I have done. And with the story told, that you might understand, and give me the blame I deserve, and Marie's own problems laid out that you should not hold it against her, I will bravely do what I should have done so many months ago. I'm still contained in the federal compound, with Gregory and the driver, but they did not object when I requested a pistol and 3 bullets. They brought it immediately. The gun is loaded and has been sitting beside me as I write this, waiting. Now it is time. If there is a God who allowed the dead to walk, may he send me to the hell I deserve.
Before you judge her, and think her a cold person for her desire to no longer hear your tales of woe, you must understand. She is one of the few who knows the truth. She can not share the truth with anyone, and the desire to reveal it all becomes stronger with each tale of a life destroyed. It is quite the predicament she is in. To reveal the truth would mean certain death, but to live with the burden is quite unpleasant. I ask that you lighten this burden and honor her wishes. Do not speak to Marie about the hurricane.
I shall perhaps make it easier for her as well, since I am in a position to tell what she can not. I have nothing to fear, I am already dead. She is only obligated to deny the truth of the following tale.
Perhaps you are already shaking your head, saying to yourself "I've heard all the conspiracy theories, they blew the levees, they wanted to get rid of the 9th ward, President Bush does not care about black people, it's all garbage. It was a damn strong storm and it tore the city up, no one was prepared to deal with it, end of story."
But it's not the end of the story, nor the beginning. There is a lesson to be learned from us, and what we caused, and how well our government can hide our sins- most unfortunately a part of that is silencing those like Marie, though she is still alive and is quite happy about that.
For years I have toiled 15 hours a day in my laboratory, if not longer. It was my life. Marie was a dear friend who would visit frequently, and her proximity to the events that unfolded has doomed her to a life of lies but has allowed her to continue her life in the best way she can. Were she a step further removed, it is likely she would have been silenced in the most permanent way.
She would stop by for lunch, and she was terribly curious as to what I was doing in my lab. I allowed her entrance on occasion, to satisfy this curiosity. It was on one such day towards the end of August that everything went so terribly wrong. I was removing a few tissue samples from the cooler to show her under the microscope, when I began choking on the gum I was chewing- a lesson to all scientists out there, you should always heed the basic rule of not eating in the lab.
I was distracted, and stepped back into a table, knocking it quite severely. Marie stepped forward to help me, and as she did, she knocked a tottering beaker from the table and it's contents fell on my leg. My assistant, Gregory, looked on in horror, but we each managed to play it off for Marie. The gum came loose with a mighty cough, and as we laughed at the mess, I immediately removed Marie from the lab. She did not at this point understand what was to come. In fact, there might still be a few bits that she doesn't fully understand, which is just as well. She knows enough.
With Marie gone, Gregory and I began to clean up the mess. By the time we had gotten all of the chemical off the floor, I was beginning to feel different. Gregory was feeling the effects a bit, but I didn't believe that his exposure was great enough to put him at risk. Had I been brave, I would have shot Gregory at that moment, followed by a round into my own head. But I was not brave, nor was he, and we must now face all the horror we caused, all of the lives we ruined, and this is indescribably terrible.
Is the curiosity killing you yet? What was the chemical, this chemical I left out so carelessly that was so terrible?
My research, which so many judge so harshly, was in cloning. As a side project, I had developed this chemical to rejuvenate cells that were dying. It was not a terribly complicated project, and it saved me a great deal of time because I did not have to recreate the cloned cells that failed, I simply added this chemical and they became functional enough that I could continue studying them. It was not a miracle creation, the cells always suffered from it, but it was good enough that I could continue to work with them for a short period of time. I did not create it to reanimate life, and I never would have intentionally used it for such, and I certainly never intended to test it on myself, while I was very much alive, and quite healthy.
But to admit the truth, it really was reanimation fluid. I really was a mad scientist for creating it. I knew this, to be perfectly honest, and if there ever was a time for honesty, this is it. Once, in the distant past, I had applied the chemical to a sample that had living and dead cells. And they all began functioning, though not very well, particularly the ones that were truely dead. But they did function. My ethics prohibited me from pursuing this any further, but I knew. I knew.
And thus, we had a chemical that causes the dead to live, and the dying to have prolonged life. And we had this chemical on my own skin, with little idea as to what will really happen because of it. I was delusional, I must say that again. I didn't think anything would come of it.
I did not become a, to use a fitting but silly term, a zombie. I was alive. Gregory was alive, and Marie was alive. But we became carriers. Marie was only affected for a few days, however, Gregory and myself are to this day. The difference I felt in myself after the accident was caused by the chemical integrating itself into every cell in my body. I did not feel ill, but my mind did register a change in my flesh. I ignored it. I'm a damn fool, and I ignored it, and I allowed Gregory to ignore it as well.
Had I been in a different city, it might have been years before I realized what my effect on others would be. But it wasn't another city, it was New Orleans. And between my lab and my home was a cemetery. In typical New Orleans fashion, those in this cemetery were not buried 6 feet under, their place of eternal rest is above ground, contained in cement and marble. I walked by this cemetery every day for years, and I did so on this day as well.
And that my friends, is the start of the story. As I walked by that cemetery, I caused the cells contained behind those walls to begin functioning. Marie had no doubt walked by that day as well, so they got a dose twice. And that was enough to begin the horror. As I walked by in the days that followed, I made it worse. I had banished the whole accident to the back of my mind, and was going about my business, all the while dooming so many.
With a storm in the gulf, that cemetery came to life. No one knew, we were all consumed by the storm. So many evacuated, so the timing of Katrina was a wonderful thing for the city, if it was not for the storm, I might have doomed the entire country to a plague of living dead.
I did not evacuate for the storm, and fittingly enough, I was the first to encounter those from the cemetery. I knew that I was to blame as soon as I saw them. They came out slowly, the ones most recently dead having the easiest time escaping from their crypts, the older ones taking much more time. Of course there were many whose cells we functioning but were not able to roam, but you could hear them moving in their coffins. It was terrifying. I am a scientist, I always have been, but when they came stumbling out the gates of the cemetery after the terrible storm, deep inside I feared that the apocalypse had arrived. I knew it was my fault, that there was not a God out to end the world, but I feared it was so.
I did not know what to do. I suspected that their cells would not function long, but I had no certainty. I was horrified, I wanted to escape. I took off on foot, and went to Gregory's home to review the situation with him. That was terrible in retrospect, as the two of us together was double the effect. We decided to search out the police and inform them. We wandered the city, trying to avoid cemeteries, but not doing a very good job at that. We found a policeman just outside of one, and I wish we had kept searching for another. But we spoke to him there, in front of the cemetery. And he thought we were mad, and he more important things to deal with. Our persistence got us each a new set of bracelets, and he sat us down on the curb and attempted to find someone else to deal with us. We sat there for hours, and eventually it became quite clear that we had not invented the situation we were describing.
Though the infrastructure of the city was crumbling, it came together a bit to deal with this situation. The feds responded quickly, but not quickly enough. It spread. Many of the cemeteries are close to each other, and it was quickly apparent that the walking dead had the same effect on each other that Gregory and myself had on them. It compounded itself. Not only were they awakening the cells of others, they were actually making each other stronger with exposure to each other. Their cells would die, only to be exposed again to the chemical and be reanimated once again. I realized that this could become an endless process. My fear was that it could not be stopped. We needed to get them all away from each other, away from myself and Gregory, where their cells could all revert to how they should be- dead.
At this point the feds showed up in force, and Gregory and I were shoved into a vehicle, driven out of the city, and taken to some compound where we were placed in what was a very secure, very contained series of rooms. It was not without luxury, and we had agreed that we needed to be contained in such a matter- that the feds had the facilities ready was admittedly a bit of a surprise, but not something to complain about. The driver of the car, a most unfortunate gentleman for having been assigned the task of getting us out of the city, was forced to join us.
We communicated with other scientists and both local and federal government officials through a telephone. We did our best to help advise them on the situation, but once they knew the basics, they took it out of our hands. I do not know how bad it really became in the city in the days after the hurricane in regards to the situation I created. I know that it was a terrible drain on an already taxed system, and that many people were left without help because help was busy dealing with my mess.
I believe they might have blown those levees. If they didn't, it was a happy accident. From my understanding, the massive amounts of water did a great deal in separating the dead from each other, and weakening the strength of the chemical and it's ability to sustain itself. They cleaned out the rest with explosives and fires. They simply destroyed the cells completely. The chemical remained, but they cleared the areas where they destroyed the dead.
And that is the truth, as Marie knows it. They brought her to the compound, though I was not allowed to see her, and tested her relentlessly. I too have been subject to endless tests, but I will not complain for myself. They found only the smallest traces of the chemical in her, and her body cleaned them out itself shortly. They allowed her to leave. Before she did, I was able to speak to her. They had me to outline the situation for her, I don't know why. I wish I had kept my mouth shut, then all she would suffer is a seemingly unreasonable intrusion from the federal government. I suppose they didn't think that would work, that she might fuss. But knowing the reason, she understands that she can not say a word. It's a terrible burden.
My own burden shall be lifted soon enough. I have caused thousands of people more pain than any one of them deserves. I have ruined the city. I should go down as notoriously as Hitler, but instead I will die anonymously, without having to answer for what I have done. And with the story told, that you might understand, and give me the blame I deserve, and Marie's own problems laid out that you should not hold it against her, I will bravely do what I should have done so many months ago. I'm still contained in the federal compound, with Gregory and the driver, but they did not object when I requested a pistol and 3 bullets. They brought it immediately. The gun is loaded and has been sitting beside me as I write this, waiting. Now it is time. If there is a God who allowed the dead to walk, may he send me to the hell I deserve.