Young Writers Society

Alexa Kari

                                                                            ASD-13

There was a man, he was still and emotionless, but harmless, with a bitter sweetness that weakened me to fall madly in love with him. Before I met him he was the type of man that just wanted his privacy, he had been living deep in a cabin in some tiny town in Alaska for about 10 years. He was a talented writer, simply on meeting Alaskans, and becoming in depth with their culture. He had a few published works he was quite proud of and his is name was Dean McCain. He was thin and had obvious proof of no sun exposure given his pale complexion, but with his bright blue eyes he seemed like something from beyond this world. His logic and views were breathtaking, I could sit and listen to him for hours and hear him ramble on and on about his fantastic discoveries and the knowledge he’s acquired through his research. Until a tragedy struck; it wasn't his fault for what happened to the world, it was mine and it was traveling with no notice, no signs, and no worries until it swallowed us all. Dean McCain died because of me. I'm going to tell the whole truth because I might be the last person alive.

My name is Dr. Fiah Desmoir and I created the bacteria that I called X1 that possibly wiped out all of humanity. I made X1 just experimental. Dean was the love of my life and he had an unknown genetic disease that made the body dissolve, starting with skin to other organs to bones; the only other case I could find was of his father who died from this back during his salad days. Even if it was investigated, the file had been sealed “Confidential” so I called it disease ASD-13. In my heart I knew he was going to die no matter what I did. I met Dean about 3 months ago when I just arrived in Alaska and he’s the first one I met when I popped into the local bar to sit and have a drink. Plopping down on a bar stood next to Dean, who at the time was a uniquely handsome stranger, we started to engage in small talk and I noticed he wasn’t overly friendly but he likes to drink as do I. We start chatting some more and have the same interests in the culture of Alaska and our different views. His blue eyes, as like pure stained glass, and black hair drew me in on the first night in town. He kindly seemed interested to show me around and as weeks passed we fell incredibly, fearlessly in love, everything so perfect until Dean began to become ill.

Dean eventually starts shredding, it was slow at first but was growing rapid. Starting as small blisters of puss, then he would just shred like a snake or like a sunburn all over. Each layer of skin shredding until nothing would remain left of him. He never talked through everything, he became speechless and if he tried to talk, it was confusing. I couldn't watch him vanish in this tortuous state, so with no clues, no proof of infection, just the genetic disorder nobody in the world has heard of. Doctor's in Alaska, as well as I, couldn't explain. All over the news were reports of a shedding man, health was the culprit but out in the press of it something possibly tragic. Not long till scientists and the news would be at his door to treat him as a science experiment. So even with the possibility of it being contagious, I took my chance and stayed with Dean in the beautiful remote cabin that I found hidden in the mountain tops where nobody would think to look and I nursed him. I'm a scientist of sort, I've written articles of different drug exposures and experiments. I'm a chemistry graduate, so what the hell, I'm going to bust my ass, not sleep, not eat, until I come up with something to cure my Dean. I do multiple tests from A to Z, nothing makes sense and I can’t get through to anyone willing to take the risk on a possible contagious disease that could be deadly and harmful to test while keeping it a secret, leaving resources short.

I had some friends back in New York who were helpful to send some supplies. I was in love and losing it with every breath he took and layer of skin that started peeling away. He became bloody and his whole body was wrapped up, I couldn’t watch him in this state of torture so I eventually said hell to it all and made the X1 bacteria and one antidote. I only made one because supplies were short and I never truly believed Dean would survive even with my hope and prayers. So I injected him with the bacteria X1 and myself with the cure. It worked, I was in shock, within months his skin was healing, he could speak and he be perfect emotionless Dean again. It was a miracle I thought, but as the year progressed it became hell. Everything I created I kept secret, I wasn't looking for money or praise, but for Dean. I took all my research and all my findings and buried them deep in the ground to be forgotten and rest in peace. Eventually Dean went to work as the town’s furniture maker because after his previous year of near death. He lost his love of writing and research so he works hard with wood and different machinery. Dean got his man hands with callus’s and sweats like the hard worker he has become, just glad to be alive. He also works night time grill cook for Teddy's burger Stop, he’s been bar friends with the owner for years and wanted to help him out some. But my perfect X1 to cure Dean turned into the plague that killed all humanity besides me and possibly someone else out there. His sweat, his blood, his DNA contained this bacteria and the disease he already had, everyone and everything he touched became infected, no signs of sickness, nothing for a year.

After Dean’s death, people started dropping like flies. Every human’s skin started dissolving rapidly, no time, no energy or health to develop a cure. I vanished once I heard all the deaths to a secluded small shed with dust and a slab of dirty tarp for my sleep. I was in hiding, I was in denial. As people fought for answers they found the ASD-13 findings and my research on Dean’s disease and my X1 formula. I never signed it with my name so it still remains a mystery to souls, I guess, to whom ended them all.

Its January 1st, Happy News Years of 2066. I speak aloud to any survivors: “I am sorry to all of you, all of humanity, all to science and disease, and to Dean. I loved you.” My confession ends with a copy of the formula with a genetic tweak to eliminate my own cure. In my mind I deserve the pain and suffering everyone went through. I have my syringe filled with my new bacteria called X1-Death. I sink the needle into my vein. It hits my blood stream and now 2 years since humanity was wiped clean and a year since I injected myself, I write my confession. My skin is deteriorating quickly and breathing is getting harder by the second. This pain and this suffering is my punishment. I agree to this torture to myself for destroying everyone.

My fingers hurt and I'm withering away. My apologies to the cause of the end.