Zacaseoftheunknown

He couldn't explain the things that he was forced to do. It was his fate. He had become a permanent servant to this creator, whom he did not personally know or come in contact with in any way. His task: to distribute an uncurable and uncontainable liquid that contained a virus unkown to even the most skilled and intelligent doctors. He knew that the ultimate goal was to destroy the base. He didn't want to do it, but there was no way he couldn't complete his task. He arrived via a small passenger ship that contained many people trying to enter the Charleston Naval Base. When he set foot on the terrain, he immidately scurried off toward the river. He had to find a location, far enough to keep him seculuded from the rest of the base, yet close enough that he can carry out the tasks given to him by the creator. He found this vacant yard beyond a set of railroad tracks. This was the perfect spot for him to rest. There were two small petite buildings that he decided to purchase. One was his living quarters. The other, a make shift labratory. After he settled in for the night, he decided that this plan needed some time to execute. The first thing he needed to do was visit the different buildings of this base to determine the best host position. However, he could only go out at night because he caught wind of a possible quarantine that would start almost immidately. This worried him, not knowing how people could know of this Event before it started. That night, he went to toward the center of the base, knowing that is where the most people would be. He walked past the church, the machine shop, and the schooling trailors. Those were all viable options, but something just didn't seem right about these places. He decided to go in for the rest of the evening, when he saw this beautiful mansion. This, he discovered, was where the Admiral Porchey Pickney and his family had lived. He left, knowing exactly where his task would take place. At his make shift labratory, he poured the liquid that would mascre the entire complex into a little vile. He placed and "X" on this bottle and stored it away. He sent a message to his creator over radiowaves that he got connected to using the big radio tower next to the infirmary. It was decided. He should go toward the house tomorrow night, and placing the liquid directly into the admiral's mouth directly. The creator commended him on his efforts, knowing the admiral will come in contact with the most people, causing the disease to spread rapidly. The next night, he was walking toward it, head hanging low, heading toward the house. He didn’t want to do it, but he he knew it was the only way. The grave keeper walked toward the admiral’s house, carrying a vile in his hand. “X” read the vile container, which contained some type of virus that not even the creator could explain. Something came over him. Was it guilt? Was it actually an emotion? He had to brush these feelings off. Climbing up the steps, he entered the marvelous house undeterred. He sauntered up the staircase inside the house and crept into the main bedroom. There he found two slumbering bodies. He started to feel that overwhelming weight again. He wished that he could tell what it was, but he must do this or the creator would be very upset with him. He cautiously opened both the admiral and the admiral’s wife’s mouth. He sprinkled some of the contents of vile “X” into both of their mouths. He then quickly turned, and scurried out of the house and ran toward the river. He returned back to his house, and rested. Over the next few days, many people had become sick, mostly those who came in contact with the admiral and his wife. Soon, the entire base was showing symptoms of an unknown illness. The infirmary began to fill up, and was eventually overbooked. People came in, glistening from exceeding fevers and grey from mal-nutrition and nausea.The doctors were losing patients every day because they didn't know what this disease was. The admiral and his family were the first to go, followed by at least ten other casualties everyday. They sent word to all income ships that they would be placed under quarintine. Once the day was done, the doctors sent the train with all the casualties of this unknown disease on its way. The man woke up to the sound of a train near his house. He peered through his window to see men dumping bodies into a pile. The two men quickly got back on the train when they were done and hurried to get away from the diseased many. The man felt that weight again, realizing that he was feeling guilty for what he had done. With his head hung low, he walked over to the pile. The admiral, and his family were the first to be identified. They were all clothed and most holding onto something. He decided to make thing right and give them a proper burial place. He spent his night digging holes to lay the bodies in, placing the carved stones over them like a grave. He marked each stone with a code in hopes that someday people will come and find where this is. The next morning, the man never woke up. The entire base was on lock down. No ships could either leave or come into its docks. This was unsafe. The quarentine did not work. This disease was attacking the base from all aspects. Through the water, the food, the air. No one knew how this was happening to them, but that it just was. The man was never seen again from anyone. Afer he died, he just diappeared.