GUILT-Trauma Center

[Jisnair]

G.U.I.L.T

A synthetic disease developed for bio terrorism. From Lords day, to the end of their rein, these infections too, try to survive in a world that detests their very existence.

Index:


Lords' Day
Second Day
Third Day
Fourth Day
Fifth Day
Sixth Day
Final Day

[Jisnair]

Lord’s Day

It never knew when ‘it’ was born, crossing from liquid to solid states in the form of a small tadpole. Wielding nothing more then a sixth sense of belonging in the body and an instinct to defend it territory from invaders—its home. The creature moved swiftly in its confinements, slow coming to celebrate its birth, one of many distinct to its nature led to seek and destroy. Other joined, wriggling their frail bodies much smaller than it through the designated organ creating lacerations with every straight swim. The tips of their bodies caught on the fragile skin above, hooking it like a fishing bait and leading it afar to tear and bleed nutrients.

For minutes they enjoyed their prison, unable to grasp the concept of another world aside from paradise, which they swam in with determination. Like sharks of kin they took no more than a second glance to one another, ignoring the difference of change and danced together. Rubbing bodies solidly against one another as they plunged in and out of the human tissue, feeding like carnivorous monsters at a feast fit for a lord. In a way ‘it’ could assume it was a lord, retaining memory of being the birth of a beginning.

No, it could not hear and see but instinct of mans creation told it so. As such it acted upon its reasoning’s, increasing its rampant slaughter of its host draining the life force little by little. The smaller versions looked to it as a leader, mimicking the bashings against the enclosed walls keeping it from other vital areas beyond the layers positioned as gates. Angry with this the tadpole dug furiously and hid in the blood, alone. Waiting for the next moment to attack.

Though it had no eyes it sensed the mini ‘its’ growing restless. They swam feverishly against the currents of red fluid, frantic in their sanctuary alarming it to stop and reverse its path to confront this ‘thing’ that dared to intrude. Soon the fluid ceased its rhythmic flows founded only by the constant movement of its brothers and sisters. It lay dormant with the organ moving once again without its consent. Possessing no eye it could not see the fine bits of what once remained drizzling down, nor hear the strangled cries as the babies writhed against mans power and evaporated. The holes previously made to bleed agony were finely stitched together to clot and recover.

It stirred anger in the virus causing it to lurch out of hiding and snap at attention. The gasp from man unlike it was deaf to it—all but the presence of a mightier ‘threat’ that deemed it necessary to destroy its home.

Coming out from the shallow skin a cross of lacerations were made, going unnoticed in its meaning as the ‘thing’ stitched and repaired the wounds faster then it could make them. It burrowed at the sudden p***k of something hot, learning but not able to register it as pain. Fleeing to the safety of its host’s internal organ it swam back and forth in a constantly altered pattern to avoid further hostilities.

Why?

If ‘it’ had the ability it may have questioned why its habitat, its existence was damned to never succeed. Where was ‘he’? The man…yes man who bore them. By being created man meant it was no less than a baby and here, living proof, that what man created it destroyed. It fueled the rage of its father continued its efforts, redoubling them. The small manmade creature cried unknowingly, finding voice as something sharp dug it out of the fluids and forced it to run blindly on the surface. In defense it made a deep cut and sought shelter mindlessly.

Another wave of undistinguishable sensations forced it back under. Several times did the process repeat itself, the vicious stabs and sudden unbearable temperatures forcing the creature to remain in the eyes of man. Limply it slowed ever so slowly and curled in on itself giving into what man desire. ‘It’ knew others like it would flourish, that the one whom bore it would never be stopped and with final piercing sound it evaporated at the fine touches of a man weapon.

Kyriaki the first of the lord born to end man from purifying sickness, died.

[Jisnair]

Second Day

Why did man wish to destroy what it created? It savagely beat at death doors, angry and protesting their futility to contradict the plagues of ‘disease’ which existed long before speech and individuality struck the planet. One however, embraced this notion as a blessing and cradled it to his body. Known as thy father on the second day he created another strange life form. By now though, he had a name.

Guilt. A contradiction in itself born into halves of different elements never whole unless struck together in a whirling tide. They would spin and disagree like siblings over the smallest things of what preferred to them at the time of the clash. They spat, fought, ripped, and tore at their other selves without mercy angry at the neglect of understanding between them. Wherever they founded as their sanctuary they kept apart and bounced happily, always happy but something always lay amiss—

Two colors and two different personalities. One calm and understanding created light colored tumors which spawned like flowers out in the open fields whereas its twin chose to leave black oozing masses of destruction, often tearing the tender layers that kept everything afloat. It carried a nasty temper and disagreed with everything its twin said or did, a chemically unbalanced formula flaw in their creation of the one and only—

Father whom desired only the destruction of inferior beings that depended on such miracles as ‘medicine’ to live an eternal life. With his cells offered to humans as he programmed G.U.I.L.T to know were few and far between in their logical difference of what should and should not have been. With this in mind they ignored the way meant for them one seeking salvation in its birth and the other wailing in despair. Where one group of these flawed virus components, another followed like a herd and conflicted with the same color. Unable to win against a twin they refused to do battle with the same family of color-coded genes and opted to separate at first collision.

Thus tumors bore from the tissue beneath them as their floor and ceiling. They themselves posed as a tumor in constant motion but never found the halfling worthy to create a whole. Perhaps that is why the father disliked the human being so strongly, why he did what he did to survive long past the laws of time.

It wasn’t until the host of their eternal home became over populated with strange mounds they created did they bicker and fight frequenter. Accompanied by their close cousins of identical patterns did they warp the organ into a battlefield of death and decay. Blood leaked from every part it could, rupturing as a burst of hot liquid pooling in the craters they formed.

The original purpose to destroy man had been discarded by the father’s creation. Lost and confused the virus helplessly pitted itself against its twin and fought bitterly until…it came. A wash of green liquid directed it away from the blood pool and rivalry as a savior to one and a sin to the other. As this new entity rid the home of the multiple growing balls of black and yellow it invoked the anger of the red menace.

Gradually the blood pools were drained and evaporated in strides, already their home looked much healthier than before their battle began. Determined to keep it the same way the blue distinguished twin hobbled from wall to wall colliding on purpose with its sibling fighting to buy this ‘thing’ time to save them. Each time they swirled and became one that thing---human was he?

Drained them. Relentlessly. The sin never let up until the mysterious weapon forced them apart weaker and darker than before. It was as if the fluids of the GUILT had been sucked away leaving only a morsel left to survive and function on. Tirelessly the two collided one after another until they formed for the first time as a whole glowing an eerie red.

Was it a blessing or a sin? Now whole the rivalry became an object of the past, nothing short of a jealousy never understood by their father. ‘It’, the virus of two now one understood a little more of what went into their creation to destroy and eliminate humans. They were creatures thriving on destruction and chaos, penalizing the gods of disease with curative holy relics to heal and cheat the system. No matter how angry it became separation was not possible.

As the scalpel cut deep into their contaminating vessels they shriveled against one another in an unchangeable embrace fearful as the world changed from good, to bad, to nothing at all…

Thus the Second Day passed…and Deftera lingered no more.