Issue 1 | Spring 2020
A letter from the Editors...
On New Year's Even 2019, as the world waited for midnight to carry us all into a new decade, many of us turned to our friends and families and said, "Welcome to the Roaring 20s." This phrase is borrowed from the last century, and refers to the economic and cultural renaissances of the 1920s: cars, telephones, radios, and electric appliances became widely available and forever changed the nature of everyday life in the West. Women earned the hard-won right to vote in most major democratic states thanks to the First Wave feminist movement. (Although we must acknowledge that in the United States, that right would not be extended to Women of Color for yet another 50 years. There is nothing to be gained by whitewashing history.) Prohibition led to the creation of underground speakeasyes where debauchery and artistry thrived. The first movies with sound were made. Workers unions began to strengthen across the United States. The Harlem Renaissance gave the world unparalleled art, literature, and music created by some of the most brilliant Black artists and thinkers of the twentieth centurty, and the first rumblings of the modern LGBTQ+ liberation movement could be felt across the globe. All in all, for better or for worse, the social, political, technological, and artistic shifts of the 1920s profoundly changed the modern world.
It was this same spirit of change the excitement that folks invoked on the eve of 2020. We are now halfway through the year, and it's safe to say that we've experienced enough change to fill an entire decade in the span of just six short months (as the saying goes, be careful what you wish for). In 2020, we are all going through collective trauma on a scale that humanity has never experienced before: the COVID-19 pandemic and subsequent social and economic upheaval, the long-overdue uprisings against racial injustice and police brutality across the globe in the wake of the tragic and senseless murder of George Floyd, plus the ever-mounting threat of climate change, among other dangers. In the face of so much pain and darkness and fear, it's easy for feelings of hopelessness and helplessness to sink in.
But here's the truth: change - negative or positive - is always messy, distruptive, and frightening. And while it's tempting to romanticize past eras, the everyday people who lived through the Roaring 20s of the twentieth century surely faced their share of collective trauma and grief as well. But they kept going. They kept creating art and working towards social change, even after the Crash of 1929 sent the world headlong into the Great Depression and, later, World War II.
We can do the same with where we are, now. And we have so many tools at our fingertips to create that new world we dreamed of on December 31st, 2019. This little zine is one of them. It may only be a small thing, but the small things add up.
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you to everyone who made Issue #1 of Crown & Pen possible. You've already helped us make this little dream a reality. Just imagine what big dreams we can weave for the world when we bring our stories together.
All our best,
Ashton & Nori
On New Year's Even 2019, as the world waited for midnight to carry us all into a new decade, many of us turned to our friends and families and said, "Welcome to the Roaring 20s." This phrase is borrowed from the last century, and refers to the economic and cultural renaissances of the 1920s: cars, telephones, radios, and electric appliances became widely available and forever changed the nature of everyday life in the West. Women earned the hard-won right to vote in most major democratic states thanks to the First Wave feminist movement. (Although we must acknowledge that in the United States, that right would not be extended to Women of Color for yet another 50 years. There is nothing to be gained by whitewashing history.) Prohibition led to the creation of underground speakeasyes where debauchery and artistry thrived. The first movies with sound were made. Workers unions began to strengthen across the United States. The Harlem Renaissance gave the world unparalleled art, literature, and music created by some of the most brilliant Black artists and thinkers of the twentieth centurty, and the first rumblings of the modern LGBTQ+ liberation movement could be felt across the globe. All in all, for better or for worse, the social, political, technological, and artistic shifts of the 1920s profoundly changed the modern world.
It was this same spirit of change the excitement that folks invoked on the eve of 2020. We are now halfway through the year, and it's safe to say that we've experienced enough change to fill an entire decade in the span of just six short months (as the saying goes, be careful what you wish for). In 2020, we are all going through collective trauma on a scale that humanity has never experienced before: the COVID-19 pandemic and subsequent social and economic upheaval, the long-overdue uprisings against racial injustice and police brutality across the globe in the wake of the tragic and senseless murder of George Floyd, plus the ever-mounting threat of climate change, among other dangers. In the face of so much pain and darkness and fear, it's easy for feelings of hopelessness and helplessness to sink in.
But here's the truth: change - negative or positive - is always messy, distruptive, and frightening. And while it's tempting to romanticize past eras, the everyday people who lived through the Roaring 20s of the twentieth century surely faced their share of collective trauma and grief as well. But they kept going. They kept creating art and working towards social change, even after the Crash of 1929 sent the world headlong into the Great Depression and, later, World War II.
We can do the same with where we are, now. And we have so many tools at our fingertips to create that new world we dreamed of on December 31st, 2019. This little zine is one of them. It may only be a small thing, but the small things add up.
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you to everyone who made Issue #1 of Crown & Pen possible. You've already helped us make this little dream a reality. Just imagine what big dreams we can weave for the world when we bring our stories together.
All our best,
Ashton & Nori
Untitled #19
by Zach Murphy
We chopped off each other’s hair during quarantine. And when we looked into the mirror, we felt like everything might be alright in the end.
Zach Murphy is a Hawaii-born writer with a background in cinema. His stories have appeared in Peculiars Magazine, Ellipsis Zine, Emerge Literary Journal, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Ghost City Review, Lotus-eater, WINK, Drunk Monkeys, and Fat Cat Magazine. He lives with his wonderful wife Kelly in St. Paul, Minnesota.
Drinking > Teaching
by Ashton-Taylor Ackerson
I’m grateful for my alcohol industry job,
a job that rarely calls for my English expertise,
because if this quarantine has taught me anything,
it’s that I myself could never teach.
How do teachers not slap their students into next summer?
I’ve gone mad dealing with just one,
hard headed and a hatred for writing,
she is blind to the possible passion.
Online school is lax enough,
forty hour weeks pressed into nine,
just write the reading connections in the chart!
But she whines and cries over anything assigned.
I realize I must sound like a grammar robot.
“Capitalize this, punctuate that,”
but my droning shortly dissipates, replaced by my yelling,
I see her stubborn resistance as a personal attack.
I sit at our dinner desk in distress,
with my child that detests writing words,
I cannot relate and can scarce imagine
teaching twenty-five more like her.
Finally she’s finished,
proofread, polished, and tweaked,
now I can carry on with my new normal,
until I have to teach again next week.
The one upside to pseudo-teaching?
it’s my professional duty to drink,
I traded this path for wine and beer,
and no regrets yet, so cheers (sans glass clink)!
a job that rarely calls for my English expertise,
because if this quarantine has taught me anything,
it’s that I myself could never teach.
How do teachers not slap their students into next summer?
I’ve gone mad dealing with just one,
hard headed and a hatred for writing,
she is blind to the possible passion.
Online school is lax enough,
forty hour weeks pressed into nine,
just write the reading connections in the chart!
But she whines and cries over anything assigned.
I realize I must sound like a grammar robot.
“Capitalize this, punctuate that,”
but my droning shortly dissipates, replaced by my yelling,
I see her stubborn resistance as a personal attack.
I sit at our dinner desk in distress,
with my child that detests writing words,
I cannot relate and can scarce imagine
teaching twenty-five more like her.
Finally she’s finished,
proofread, polished, and tweaked,
now I can carry on with my new normal,
until I have to teach again next week.
The one upside to pseudo-teaching?
it’s my professional duty to drink,
I traded this path for wine and beer,
and no regrets yet, so cheers (sans glass clink)!
Critical
by Ashton-Taylor Ackerson
All medical procedures halted,
unless Governor Abbott cries “critical.”
He says it’s to save supplies,
but it’s no surprise
that he’s also trying to save
what isn’t even alive.
You may not find abortions critical, Governor,
but for a January conception they are just that,
she already carries a critical deadline.
Late April is too late.
A fetus is not a late credit payment.
Once it’s too late, everything becomes critical,
no waivers or cancellations.
Bodies born to die,
birthers possibly not far behind,
as this virus feeds on the weak.
Or they’ll survive,
to live a resented life,
how’s that for pro-life, Governor?
unless Governor Abbott cries “critical.”
He says it’s to save supplies,
but it’s no surprise
that he’s also trying to save
what isn’t even alive.
You may not find abortions critical, Governor,
but for a January conception they are just that,
she already carries a critical deadline.
Late April is too late.
A fetus is not a late credit payment.
Once it’s too late, everything becomes critical,
no waivers or cancellations.
Bodies born to die,
birthers possibly not far behind,
as this virus feeds on the weak.
Or they’ll survive,
to live a resented life,
how’s that for pro-life, Governor?
R.I.P Life As We Knew It
by Ashton-Taylor Ackerson
I’ve sacrificed so much for this virus,
my essential safety,
a week in Spain,
beers in Munich,
my child’s classroom learning,
and our entire wedding.
We may not be dead,
but I’m still mourning.
my essential safety,
a week in Spain,
beers in Munich,
my child’s classroom learning,
and our entire wedding.
We may not be dead,
but I’m still mourning.
Ashton-Taylor Ackerson is the co-founder and editor of Crown & Pen. She holds a BA in English from the University of Texas at Austin, and dabbles in both poetry and fiction. This is her first publication. She is currently working on her first poetry collection, which she hopes to publish after quarantine. When she’s not writing, Ashton-Taylor is always on the lookout for the best food, wine, and beer to be had in Austin. She and her fiancé, Jacob, look forward to their (now postponed) wedding next year.
Reflections of Humanity
Visual Artwork by Jacqueline Wu
The Silence of Winter
by Jacqueline Wu
A long time ago, my grandmother told me,
That there was nothing more important than love you can see
She told me
That in the beginning of the world,
As the autumn leaves curled,
the days grew shorter and the nights longer
She told me that the night animals prowled, grabbing many good men who were led astray
It’s not my fault, they would say
Yes, evil ruled now, Chaos on a throne
A throne of deception and lies
A promise to both sides, made too long ago to remember
The good now diminished to a last dying ember
No one could change their destinies
For the world was ending
As the moonbeams shone and the snow fell thick
My grandmother lay on her bed sick
She shone through, her rays lighting the way,
illuminating an imaginary path for anyone who listened
Her name was hope
Hope for change
Hope for the better
As we sit, we can still hear the last forgotten memories of the people of seasons ago
For even if they had fallen in the fight for good, their love lives on
You see, the good and the light had won
If you listen carefully, you can still hear the moans of the lost in the creak of the ice and the whoosh of the wind
The sigh of the plants settling in their roots, and the last cry of the mockingbird
As my shoes crunch in the snow, it falls, slowly covering the ground.
The winter wonderland bathes the world in a blanket of quietness
The chittering of birds stop, and you can no longer hear the squirrels.
The air, the river, the mountains
An empty silence remains, the calm before a storm
I hear the dying cries of my ancestors begging me
A strong blizzard churns inside me, threatening to pull me apart
A battle between good and evil, a battle between jealousy and love
The night sky twinkles with many stars, their light leading the way
Peace settles inside me, and I suddenly hear the twinkle of bells, the music of the world.
The song of the night jay joins in a strange harmony, the song of old
The ice crystals sparkle, and the bitter gale moans in agony
This is the song of goodness
This is the song of winter, a time of choice and remembrance
I am one with nature, and I feel my soul being carried away with the wind.
The merry sounds of Christmas fills my ears, my mind, and my heart
My worries drain away and I am a new person
My grandmother was right
Winter always turns into spring
That there was nothing more important than love you can see
She told me
That in the beginning of the world,
As the autumn leaves curled,
the days grew shorter and the nights longer
She told me that the night animals prowled, grabbing many good men who were led astray
It’s not my fault, they would say
Yes, evil ruled now, Chaos on a throne
A throne of deception and lies
A promise to both sides, made too long ago to remember
The good now diminished to a last dying ember
No one could change their destinies
For the world was ending
As the moonbeams shone and the snow fell thick
My grandmother lay on her bed sick
She shone through, her rays lighting the way,
illuminating an imaginary path for anyone who listened
Her name was hope
Hope for change
Hope for the better
As we sit, we can still hear the last forgotten memories of the people of seasons ago
For even if they had fallen in the fight for good, their love lives on
You see, the good and the light had won
If you listen carefully, you can still hear the moans of the lost in the creak of the ice and the whoosh of the wind
The sigh of the plants settling in their roots, and the last cry of the mockingbird
As my shoes crunch in the snow, it falls, slowly covering the ground.
The winter wonderland bathes the world in a blanket of quietness
The chittering of birds stop, and you can no longer hear the squirrels.
The air, the river, the mountains
An empty silence remains, the calm before a storm
I hear the dying cries of my ancestors begging me
A strong blizzard churns inside me, threatening to pull me apart
A battle between good and evil, a battle between jealousy and love
The night sky twinkles with many stars, their light leading the way
Peace settles inside me, and I suddenly hear the twinkle of bells, the music of the world.
The song of the night jay joins in a strange harmony, the song of old
The ice crystals sparkle, and the bitter gale moans in agony
This is the song of goodness
This is the song of winter, a time of choice and remembrance
I am one with nature, and I feel my soul being carried away with the wind.
The merry sounds of Christmas fills my ears, my mind, and my heart
My worries drain away and I am a new person
My grandmother was right
Winter always turns into spring
Jacqueline Wu (16) is a writer from Long Island, New York. She is a writer and editor for her acclaimed school magazine, Cinnabar. She has also won several writing competitions and awards, such as the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. She is forthcoming in Teenmind, ReadThis, and other magazines. Jacqueline enjoys painting, drawing, writing, and playing the viola, and she hopes to continue to inspire and empower through her words.
A Prayer to Pandemic Ancestors
by Nori Rose Hubert
When I was eighteen years old – a new high school graduate preparing to head off into the world on my own for the first time, who had just managed to break away from an incredibly abusive relationship – I had an HIV scare. I was born in 1992, so I’m old enough to remember when there were still images on the news of people dying from AIDS, and as I sat in the exam room at Planned Parenthood watching the nurse draw dark red blood from my arm, I felt paralyzed by the fear that I, too, might join their ranks.
I thank my gods every day that my test came back negative. There are many who are not so lucky as me. But although my experience was traumatic, the truth is that I grew up in a world where HIV diagnosis is no longer a death sentence: in the year 2020, the same year that COVID-19 has destroyed life as we know it, HIV infection is more manageable than diabetes. That is nothing short of a miracle, and when I think about how very far things have come since the first patients were admitted to San Francisco general hospital ICU with a mysterious “gay cancer” in the summer of 1981, I am overcome with love and gratitude for the AIDS activists of the 80s and 90s whose rage and grief and fear and hope made such a miracle possible. Who made it possible for terrified eighteen year old me to at least know that had I tested positive, my life would have been irrevocably altered, but not over.
At the same time, my heart aches for the ones for whom that miracle came too late, and for those who still don’t have access to prevention and treatment thanks to systemic oppression, stigma, and shame.
What does any of this have to do with COVID-19? Well, a lot, actually. Maybe it’s just me, but I see many parallels between the COVID-19 crisis and the early days of AIDS.
Like coronavirus, HIV was a novel virus that seemed to come out of nowhere, blindsiding the entire world. It’s also interesting to note that both viruses are zoonotic: HIV originated with non-human primates, whereas coronavirus seems to have originated in bats.
In the early days of AIDS, the public was assured that only “high risk” groups were in danger, which later turned out to be false. In both cases, these “high risk” groups were made up of people who the dominant culture considers disposable: in the 80s and 90s, it was Queer men, trans folks, poor people, sex workers, and people who use drugs. In 2020, it’s disabled folks, incarcerated folks, poor people (yet again), and the elderly.
People of color and especially Black people were hit much harder than white folks during the AIDS crisis, and to this day, many Black folks living with HIV are unable to access treatment and care thanks to systemic racism. This heartbreaking pattern is continuing to play out as Black and brown people continue to become ill and die from COVID-19 at a much higher rate than white people.
If you’ve been on social media lately, you’ve probably had the misfortune of coming across ludicrous conspiracy theories surrounding coronavirus, mainly from right-wing folks who refuse to believe the virus is real, or that it’s not as dangerous as the science is suggesting. You may be surprised to learn that AIDS deniers also exist to this very day, who continue to peddle anti-science propaganda that leaves people at risk for HIV infection. Both AIDS and COVID-19 fueled rampant xenophobia as well: Haitians were scapegoated for bringing AIDS to the United States (a claim with dubious scientific backing) and Queer folks were accused of purposefully infecting “good” victims (i.e., straight, cisgender, white) by tricking straight people into sex or hiding infected needles in public spaces. Today, Asians and Asian Americans are being demonized and attacked for the spread of coronavirus in a similar fashion.
While AIDS didn’t bring the entire economy to a screeching halt or require mass quarantine measures, life did come to a screeching halt for the Queer community: bars and nightclubs (which in some areas were the only places for Queer people to gather and meet one another) shuttered across the country. People were outed and lost their jobs and homes over fear of the virus. Many sick folks were completely ostracized by their families and left to die alone. And in both cases, the US government failed to act until it was too late, and thousands of lives had been needlessly lost.
The similarities are striking. That’s why it’s critical that we look to the wisdom of the AIDS activists of the last 39 years for hope and guidance as we face off with coronavirus. We may not be able to congregate together for mass demonstrations or “die-ins,” but in some ways, we’re even more fortunate that we have so much digital technology available for organizing and supporting one another.
I work with ancestors as part of my spiritual practice, and that includes more than just my genetic ancestors. It also includes Queer ancestors and witchy ancestors, and feminist foremothers. And at this moment in time, we need to call on the wisdom of pandemic ancestors.
Pandemics are scary, but they are also catalysts for radical change. Human history has been shaped, for good and bad, by the tiny little microbes that share this planet with us. AIDS pushed Queer liberation into the national conversation for the first time. The Black Death was the spark that led to class restructuring in medieval Europe. The Spanish flu changed the course of the 20th century.
Now, coronavirus is here to teach us new lessons about community, solidarity, and living in harmony with the Earth. We need to listen. And we must call upon the ancestors to help us through. May we become good ancestors for the ones who come after us.
I thank my gods every day that my test came back negative. There are many who are not so lucky as me. But although my experience was traumatic, the truth is that I grew up in a world where HIV diagnosis is no longer a death sentence: in the year 2020, the same year that COVID-19 has destroyed life as we know it, HIV infection is more manageable than diabetes. That is nothing short of a miracle, and when I think about how very far things have come since the first patients were admitted to San Francisco general hospital ICU with a mysterious “gay cancer” in the summer of 1981, I am overcome with love and gratitude for the AIDS activists of the 80s and 90s whose rage and grief and fear and hope made such a miracle possible. Who made it possible for terrified eighteen year old me to at least know that had I tested positive, my life would have been irrevocably altered, but not over.
At the same time, my heart aches for the ones for whom that miracle came too late, and for those who still don’t have access to prevention and treatment thanks to systemic oppression, stigma, and shame.
What does any of this have to do with COVID-19? Well, a lot, actually. Maybe it’s just me, but I see many parallels between the COVID-19 crisis and the early days of AIDS.
Like coronavirus, HIV was a novel virus that seemed to come out of nowhere, blindsiding the entire world. It’s also interesting to note that both viruses are zoonotic: HIV originated with non-human primates, whereas coronavirus seems to have originated in bats.
In the early days of AIDS, the public was assured that only “high risk” groups were in danger, which later turned out to be false. In both cases, these “high risk” groups were made up of people who the dominant culture considers disposable: in the 80s and 90s, it was Queer men, trans folks, poor people, sex workers, and people who use drugs. In 2020, it’s disabled folks, incarcerated folks, poor people (yet again), and the elderly.
People of color and especially Black people were hit much harder than white folks during the AIDS crisis, and to this day, many Black folks living with HIV are unable to access treatment and care thanks to systemic racism. This heartbreaking pattern is continuing to play out as Black and brown people continue to become ill and die from COVID-19 at a much higher rate than white people.
If you’ve been on social media lately, you’ve probably had the misfortune of coming across ludicrous conspiracy theories surrounding coronavirus, mainly from right-wing folks who refuse to believe the virus is real, or that it’s not as dangerous as the science is suggesting. You may be surprised to learn that AIDS deniers also exist to this very day, who continue to peddle anti-science propaganda that leaves people at risk for HIV infection. Both AIDS and COVID-19 fueled rampant xenophobia as well: Haitians were scapegoated for bringing AIDS to the United States (a claim with dubious scientific backing) and Queer folks were accused of purposefully infecting “good” victims (i.e., straight, cisgender, white) by tricking straight people into sex or hiding infected needles in public spaces. Today, Asians and Asian Americans are being demonized and attacked for the spread of coronavirus in a similar fashion.
While AIDS didn’t bring the entire economy to a screeching halt or require mass quarantine measures, life did come to a screeching halt for the Queer community: bars and nightclubs (which in some areas were the only places for Queer people to gather and meet one another) shuttered across the country. People were outed and lost their jobs and homes over fear of the virus. Many sick folks were completely ostracized by their families and left to die alone. And in both cases, the US government failed to act until it was too late, and thousands of lives had been needlessly lost.
The similarities are striking. That’s why it’s critical that we look to the wisdom of the AIDS activists of the last 39 years for hope and guidance as we face off with coronavirus. We may not be able to congregate together for mass demonstrations or “die-ins,” but in some ways, we’re even more fortunate that we have so much digital technology available for organizing and supporting one another.
I work with ancestors as part of my spiritual practice, and that includes more than just my genetic ancestors. It also includes Queer ancestors and witchy ancestors, and feminist foremothers. And at this moment in time, we need to call on the wisdom of pandemic ancestors.
Pandemics are scary, but they are also catalysts for radical change. Human history has been shaped, for good and bad, by the tiny little microbes that share this planet with us. AIDS pushed Queer liberation into the national conversation for the first time. The Black Death was the spark that led to class restructuring in medieval Europe. The Spanish flu changed the course of the 20th century.
Now, coronavirus is here to teach us new lessons about community, solidarity, and living in harmony with the Earth. We need to listen. And we must call upon the ancestors to help us through. May we become good ancestors for the ones who come after us.
Nori Rose Hubert is the co-founder of Crown & Pen and author of the forthcoming novel The Dreaming Hour. Her short stories, poetry, and essays have appeared in The Rio Review, Feminine Inquiry, Musings of a #LonelyFeminist, Hothouse, and online in Gingerbread House Literary Magazine, Corvid Queen, The Elephant Ladder, and Mookychick. Her spoken word has been incorporated into an impromtu dance informance, and her poem “Sluts” was featured at the 2015 Art As Activism showcase hosted by the Gender & Sexuality Center at the University of Texas at Austin. She holds an AA in Creative Writing from Austin Community College and a BA in English from UT Austin, and works as a freelance healthcare writer. When she’s not writing, you can usually find her getting lost in bookshops, swimming in natural bodies of water, baking with flowers, stitching subversive cross stitch patterns, hexing the patriarchy, and being bossed around by her feline familiars. She believes in magic, the radical power of art, and in you.
The Great Prophecy
by Fadil Anwar
Deep in a forge sequestered from all
life,
By the hands of those who defined the terms of this
age,
There will be spawned a creation invisible to
sight,
and it will embark on an expedition of
carnage.
But ever oblivious to the corollary of its self-inflicted
wounds,
mundane-kind shall continue to live in a cocoon of
ignorance,
until bodies beyond count begin being
inhumed,
after hosting uninvited guests.
When chaos imposes herself unto the world
overnight,
the pair of eyes that couldn’t discern the wrong from the
right,
will now only see the world with paranoia.
And as the wardens imprison themselves into
exile,
civilization will be coerced into a ceasefire.
THE WORLD WILL SEE AN ENDLESS SLEEP,
THE SOULS OF MANY, NATURE’S SALVATION SHALL REAP.
AND AS MANKIND EXERTS TO KEEP ITS BREATH,
THE INVISIBLE FOE WILL BEAR ARMS WITH THE DOORS OF DEATH.
life,
By the hands of those who defined the terms of this
age,
There will be spawned a creation invisible to
sight,
and it will embark on an expedition of
carnage.
But ever oblivious to the corollary of its self-inflicted
wounds,
mundane-kind shall continue to live in a cocoon of
ignorance,
until bodies beyond count begin being
inhumed,
after hosting uninvited guests.
When chaos imposes herself unto the world
overnight,
the pair of eyes that couldn’t discern the wrong from the
right,
will now only see the world with paranoia.
And as the wardens imprison themselves into
exile,
civilization will be coerced into a ceasefire.
THE WORLD WILL SEE AN ENDLESS SLEEP,
THE SOULS OF MANY, NATURE’S SALVATION SHALL REAP.
AND AS MANKIND EXERTS TO KEEP ITS BREATH,
THE INVISIBLE FOE WILL BEAR ARMS WITH THE DOORS OF DEATH.
The Necessary Evil
by Fadil Anwar
The coronavirus is a necessary evil. Sure, it has taken the lives of countless in more ways than one, but it was only a matter of time until the jury of nature ruled against our favor and we paid for our crimes.
Today the world is comatose. Human activity is minimum. Our species roamed the earth for thousands of years as the apex predators, we consumed, destroyed and stole from our neighbors and fellow occupants of this planet. We justified our actions as necessary requirements for fulfilling the greed of our civilization. Never did we think of the day our actions would be put in front of the court and our species put on trial. Today. Now we reside in seclusion and isolation fearing for our lives and our loved ones. We construct fortresses and hide from an enemy invisible to sight. The COVID-19 virus. But in this environment, made dark, ambiguous and obscure by a threatening contagious disease, one thing is as plain as day. And that is, when the air is clean and the COVID–19 has blown with the wind, there will be the need for a post-mortem into an outbreak, which for several months had domineered the agenda of the world and dictated the life of more than seven billion people. For time to come we may be caught up in breaking down the remains of a pandemic seemingly engineered with biological precision. Indeed much more would be analyzed and written about how banks ran out of money and airplanes rested their wings. How convenience stores herded people wildly gathering supplies which ran out of stock. Maybe in time, many scholarly papers, reports, articles, documentaries and perhaps Hollywood styled movies would seek to portray and depict COVID–19 which apparently emanated from a bat, as the essential pause that was required in our rat-race world.
And perhaps from the eyes of some, the virus would be portrayed for the death and destruction that it left behind. But who would dare to peer into a wider lens from which a deadly pandemic could be construed as a much-needed reawakening of a world? Fact is, any theory that the COVID–19 was a “necessary evil,” may be construed as a thought laden with bacteria which should be sanitized with alacrity. But consider, for example, that the virus has engaged us in a civil and cooperative world willing to abide by laws, restrictions, and limitations brought about by necessity. Consider too, a quarantine that may have re-energized family life and values and which may have rejuvenated personal, private and family relationships, ironically through social distancing. And consider a virus that has generated political action by forcing global leaders to take decisions to safeguard the welfare of the young, the elderly and underprivileged.
Consider that this isolation has let nature heal from the wounds inflicted upon it by civilization. In China, where the first cases of coronavirus were detected, a massive decline in pollution and greenhouse gases have now been recorded. This is just one of many cases. Who knows if the virus that is obstructing our tracheal system is just here to show what mother nature feels when we try to suffocate her. Maybe it’s an essential intervention in reawakening a culture of compassion, kindness, and unity of purpose. Or maybe it came not just to sanitize the way that we live today, but to bring sanity to the way that we plan for tomorrow.
Today the world is comatose. Human activity is minimum. Our species roamed the earth for thousands of years as the apex predators, we consumed, destroyed and stole from our neighbors and fellow occupants of this planet. We justified our actions as necessary requirements for fulfilling the greed of our civilization. Never did we think of the day our actions would be put in front of the court and our species put on trial. Today. Now we reside in seclusion and isolation fearing for our lives and our loved ones. We construct fortresses and hide from an enemy invisible to sight. The COVID-19 virus. But in this environment, made dark, ambiguous and obscure by a threatening contagious disease, one thing is as plain as day. And that is, when the air is clean and the COVID–19 has blown with the wind, there will be the need for a post-mortem into an outbreak, which for several months had domineered the agenda of the world and dictated the life of more than seven billion people. For time to come we may be caught up in breaking down the remains of a pandemic seemingly engineered with biological precision. Indeed much more would be analyzed and written about how banks ran out of money and airplanes rested their wings. How convenience stores herded people wildly gathering supplies which ran out of stock. Maybe in time, many scholarly papers, reports, articles, documentaries and perhaps Hollywood styled movies would seek to portray and depict COVID–19 which apparently emanated from a bat, as the essential pause that was required in our rat-race world.
And perhaps from the eyes of some, the virus would be portrayed for the death and destruction that it left behind. But who would dare to peer into a wider lens from which a deadly pandemic could be construed as a much-needed reawakening of a world? Fact is, any theory that the COVID–19 was a “necessary evil,” may be construed as a thought laden with bacteria which should be sanitized with alacrity. But consider, for example, that the virus has engaged us in a civil and cooperative world willing to abide by laws, restrictions, and limitations brought about by necessity. Consider too, a quarantine that may have re-energized family life and values and which may have rejuvenated personal, private and family relationships, ironically through social distancing. And consider a virus that has generated political action by forcing global leaders to take decisions to safeguard the welfare of the young, the elderly and underprivileged.
Consider that this isolation has let nature heal from the wounds inflicted upon it by civilization. In China, where the first cases of coronavirus were detected, a massive decline in pollution and greenhouse gases have now been recorded. This is just one of many cases. Who knows if the virus that is obstructing our tracheal system is just here to show what mother nature feels when we try to suffocate her. Maybe it’s an essential intervention in reawakening a culture of compassion, kindness, and unity of purpose. Or maybe it came not just to sanitize the way that we live today, but to bring sanity to the way that we plan for tomorrow.
Fadil Anwar is an aspiring product designer and a passionate writer. He writes for magazines and is a co-founder of the 4inks blog. Fadil is also an ardent football fan. If you don’t find him playing football down the street with his mates, you’ll find him engaging himself in some form of debating. He resides with his family in Sharjah, UAE.
the bookseller
by Maggie Wang
the bookseller stays awake long into the night,
legs numb from crouching over a pile of
old books left at the back door of the shop.
the books came with a note: “my mother
passed away last week. she asked if others
might read her books after she was gone.”
he turns the paper over in his hands, tracing
the words for the hundredth time even though
he cannot read them in the dark. he feels
the jagged edges of the volumes, lined up
one against the other, some with pages
fallen out and placed back in again like
butterflies trapped between the leaves
of a hymnal. some have small poems written
on them like initials carved into an aging tree.
others are yellowed at the edges like an
autumn sunset. the bookseller closes his eyes
and pictures these volumes on the shelves
in the store, just haphazard enough to invite
the curious gaze, but not enough to perplex
the patron who always reads an author’s works
in order. yet, the shelves are already full,
as if all the treasure plundered from the
depths of faraway forests now lives only
in the pages of unsold books. the bookseller
lifts the note on his fingertips as if he fears it
might catch fire and crumples it before it
has a chance. his hand, gnarled like the
bark of a tree threatened by too many
generations of axemen, closes tight around this
last reminder of death, as if, by cutting it off
from the light, he can empty the shelves
and fill them up again with this pile of books
and the pages that have somehow fallen out
from remaining too long unread.
legs numb from crouching over a pile of
old books left at the back door of the shop.
the books came with a note: “my mother
passed away last week. she asked if others
might read her books after she was gone.”
he turns the paper over in his hands, tracing
the words for the hundredth time even though
he cannot read them in the dark. he feels
the jagged edges of the volumes, lined up
one against the other, some with pages
fallen out and placed back in again like
butterflies trapped between the leaves
of a hymnal. some have small poems written
on them like initials carved into an aging tree.
others are yellowed at the edges like an
autumn sunset. the bookseller closes his eyes
and pictures these volumes on the shelves
in the store, just haphazard enough to invite
the curious gaze, but not enough to perplex
the patron who always reads an author’s works
in order. yet, the shelves are already full,
as if all the treasure plundered from the
depths of faraway forests now lives only
in the pages of unsold books. the bookseller
lifts the note on his fingertips as if he fears it
might catch fire and crumples it before it
has a chance. his hand, gnarled like the
bark of a tree threatened by too many
generations of axemen, closes tight around this
last reminder of death, as if, by cutting it off
from the light, he can empty the shelves
and fill them up again with this pile of books
and the pages that have somehow fallen out
from remaining too long unread.
Maggie Wang is an undergraduate at the University of Oxford. Her writing has appeared in Canvas, the Alexandria Quarterly, and Ruminate, among others, and is forthcoming in K’in and Shards. She has also won awards from the Poetry Society and the Folger Shakespeare Library. When not writing, she enjoys playing the piano and exploring nature.
Sentient
by Tera Moellendorf
The following is a transcription from the video diaries recorded by Dr. Celest Koenig and Corporal Richard Marshall after the August 15 pathogen outbreak. These recordings were found at an abandoned lab outside of Detroit, MI. No editing has been made. Dr. Koenig is speaking to her sister Alice “Lacie” Koenig (resides in the Dakota compound).
Any additional information will be noted.
Entry #1 (Date Unknown)
(0:00) Dr. Koenig: Hey Lacie. (huffs) I wish I could be looking into your sweet face. I wish I could be there and not in God knows where. But I’m not (looks away from camera) and I need to get this out, so here we go. I want you to know first that everything I’m about to tell you is true and to the best of my knowledge is accurate up to this point.
The reason I didn’t make it home for your birthday is because I was given a position on the team working on Project Sentient at a military research facility. Fort Morris is outside of Detroit. We were tasked with finding a cure and/or vaccine to fight the COVID-19 virus. We were also asked to develop a performance enhancing component to it. I guess the government branch that handed down the order thought this would be a perfect time to bake their own agenda into our crisis handling. Either way, I’m sorry I missed it. Maybe if I had declined, I would be there now.
But I need to keep you on point. As a part of Project Sentient, my main job was assistant microbiologist and specialist to our medical lead Dr. Melody Mendez (deceased). Her co-lead, Dr. Rhoads or Road Doc as we called him (Dr. Douglas Rhoads: deceased) worked with his two interns on the project as well. (pauses, looks away) Rylie and Trevor were their names. (Rylie McCaslin: deceased, Trevor Donald: deceased) The only other person there at the time of the outbreak was Rick (Corporal Richard Marshal). You remember him, (smiles at the camera) right? He was that cute guard I told you and Mama about. The one who always pretended I wasn’t funny even when he was clearly trying not to laugh. (laughs, then stills) Rick was delivering something at the time; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been in the room. (3:30)
(4:02) I’m not sure when you’re seeing this, but here are the facts. On August 15, unfortunately on your birthday, there was a pathogenic outbreak in the research lab. Rick and I were the only survivors from the lab that we know of. The pathogen was an experimental version of Sentient that we had deemed hazardous and labeled for disposal. I don’t know how it got out. All I remember was one of the others carrying a tray behind me then hearing the quarantine sirens going off. (sighs) We had no word for a while and had no idea what was happening until Sergeant Leon (Sergeant Fletcher Leon: deceased) finally came down in a hazmat suit. He told us that the pathogen was contained to our lab, but we weren’t cleared to leave. According to protocol, we couldn’t contact anyone on the outside for security reasons. Honestly, I think he was just trying to cover his own ass but, what do I know? He said that there was another team of scientists working on a counteractant and that he would be back with news soon. We knew better.
Throughout our research, we built in “safety nets” that would be in place if an event like this ever occurred. The nets acted as buffers to keep the strain contained; it wasn’t supposed to grow outside of them. This strain did. It mutated too fast to be safe. We knew that, even with a second team working, the surest way to stay alive would be for us to work on it as well.
We were beginning our sixth hour of quarantine when we started showing various symptoms. (picks up a pad of paper) Trevor was feeling nauseous, lightheaded at times, and was running a climbing fever of 101.2. He said his immune system was not very strong; that could be the reason why he was the first to show. We ran blood work and noted that his white blood cell count was higher than usual and also climbing. Fast. Soon after Rylie and Dr. Mendez showed similar signs of sickness, and Trevor began vomiting. By the seventh hour, we all had a fever.
(pauses, sighs) The drug was never supposed to be this. This… this was as if our bodies were turning on themselves. After the eighth hour, finally, Dr. Mendez found a way to slow down the pathogen’s progression. She made six doses and administered the first one to herself as a test subject. She seemed fine, so we gave the next ones to Trevor and Rylie. That’s when the delirium hit.
Trevor began screaming that he was on fire and started banging his head against the glass wall, separating us from the rest of the lab. Rick tried to hold him down… (7:02) Trevor grabbed Rick’s gun and begged us to make the burning stop. Rick and Dr. Rhoads made a grab for Trevor. The gun went off, and Dr. Rhoads collapsed. Rick was able to hold Trevor down long enough to get the gun away, then Trevor kept bashing his head against the floor until he stopped moving too. There was blood everywhere. After that I think we knew we were on our own.
(8:40) At the twelve-hour mark, I started to feel nausea. Dr. Mendez said she was experiencing the same lightheadedness as Rylie, and Rick said that his head was hurting. Rick moved the bodies into bags and tried to clean the blood up so the pathogen wouldn’t spread once we were released. Dr. Mendez had us take a modified version of the remaining serum and began building off that. Leon came back at the fourteenth-hour mark, and he had a set of antidotes he wanted us to take. Rick and I volunteered as the guinea pigs. After about twenty minutes, we felt no better but also no worse, so we figured that they were safe for Rylie and Dr. Mendez. After running more blood work, Dr. Mendez thought she was on the verge of a final counteractant. She had enough material to create two doses. She told us that if it worked, she would make more for both of us.
I think that’s honestly what saved us. At sixteen hours, Dr. Mendez and Rylie’s temperatures spiked. We hooked them up to a fluid drip… Rylie was gone within an hour. Dr. Mendez tried to talk me through her work she had already done, but in the end, she was too sick.
(10:38, wipes eyes) Rick moved the bodies into two more bags while I tried to finish. I don’t remember exactly what I did, just adding and subtracting stuff like I was playing with my old toy chem set. I told him this was probably going to be our last chance. I was so tired. He was too, (winks at the camera and sniffs) but he was trying to be strong for me. When neither of us could stand, he held me near the other bags. I remember listening to his heart before I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I don’t remember falling asleep though, only waking and feeling like I was in a sauna. I thought I was being kicked in the foot by one of the body bags, I guess it had been Rick shaking me. He told me we needed to move and that the lab doors were unlocked. That’s how we got here. Just so much running. Rick had been an army ranger before coming to us, so we were able to stay away from most of the densely populated areas.
Since finding this place, we’ve been consuming mostly water and light B.R.A.T items that we can find. Most of the symptoms have gone away except the headaches and fever. This lab’s generator is still in working order. I’ve run blood work and concluded that we still have an infection of some kind. Beyond that we are not getting any worse. Rick feels like we’re being hunted, but at this point, no one has come after us.
So that’s why I’m doing this video diary. For you. I want you to know what happened and if the worst comes, I can help you even if I’m not there. I love you Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (15:59)
Entry #2 (Date Unknown)
(0:00) DK: Alright Lacie, this is day four of research. I have run new blood work. Rick is fever free, but hungrier than normal. He’s lost weight since coming here. I honestly think that it’s because he’s been sick, but he’s adamant that he has never been this hungry. (looks around) We explored the lab. It must have been abandoned in the last few months. There’s still some basic equipment and supplies I can use. This must have been a very lucrative lab that was shut down quickly because there were still live cultures in freezers. I don’t want t think about what happened to the people who used to work here, but we’re here now.
The vending machines we’ve found still have in-date products, so that’s good news if we plan to stay for a while. Since this is an underground lab, we plan to stay here as long as possible; however, I highly doubt we will last long on M&Ms and Coke. Not much has happened other than that. (rubs eyebrow) I think Rick’s planning a trip tomorrow –
Corp. Marshall: Tonight!
DK: You said you were going to wait?
CM: Can’t. (comes into view) We need supplies now. (carries a backpack and leaves the view of the camera)
DK: Are you sure you can’t wait until – (sound of a gun being loaded)
CM: Nope, sorry. We are running low on everything and I need some air. Be back.
DK: Rick, wait… Rick!
– End of Entry (2:30)
Entry #3 (Date Unknown – Same Day)
(0:00) DK: So Rick left two hours ago to get more supplies. He took his gun and told
me to stay here. Honestly Alice, what the hell? I don’t know what to do with him. (sighs) I did some work and cataloged a few changes in my own blood which seems to be following the same track as Rick’s, only slower, (takes off glasses) though honestly who does he think he is? It’s not like I asked him to come with me or stop here and I’m working my ass off as well. He doesn’t need to act like such a –
CM: (in the distance) Celest! DK: (turns around) Rick?! CM: Celest! Where are you?! DK: Rick, what happened? CM: Get up here now!
– End of Entry (1:42)
Entry #4 (Date after the Fall of Detroit, September 17)
(0:00 DK sits in her chair. She does not speak until 2:46.)
DK: I… (sighs) I don’t… (DK stares at a point off-camera and begins crying. She makes no noise and stares into the camera. She sighs, gets up and leaves.)
– End of Entry (3:06)
Entry #5 (Est. September 21)
(0:00) DK: It’s been four days since my last entry and (sighs) about twelve hours since I started working again. It’s been hard processing what happened. Rick tried to go out again, but I keep telling him it’s not worth it. (laughs) I hope you’re okay baby girl. I hope you’re nowhere near this.
(0:59) I don’t even know how to describe what I saw. This is almost surreal. (shakes her head)
– Entry Paused (1:12)
– Entry Resumed
(DK and CM sit in view of the camera. They hold each other’s hands.)
CM: But what do I say?
DK: Anything. Think about it as if you’re just talking to my sister across the table.
CM: Okay, by now the epidemic has surely spread further than Detroit. While we are safe and presumably healthy, (nods to DK, who nods back) the majority of this town is in chaos. During my trips out of the lab, I encountered hostile looters and heavily armed civilians. It’s as if war broke out while we’ve been down here. I guess in a way it has. Celest thinks that the virus became airborne after we escaped Fort Morris. It seems that now it’s infected countless people. It could’ve been our fault that this happened. But we can’t be certain.
DK: (DK looks at CM 2:06) Yesterday we just sat by one of the windows and watched. The reason I haven’t made a video is because we saw what they did to a man. During my last entry, Rick was attacked. When I got to him, I thought the man was just trying to take his gun.
CM: A man yelled for it. He was frantic. I tried to fight him off, but he kept on reaching for it. Then they came. The guy said to run. We were being surrounded, so I climbed up a fire escape and turned to help him. It happened so fast. I don’t know how to describe the sight. (huffs) It was like a massive pit of bodies turning in on itself at a concert, with no music. Only… screams and… sounds of the body… (DK puts her arm around CM and he wipes his eyes)
DK: I hesitate to use the term zombie. It feels too much like a TV show or a stupid novel. However, I think we can safely identify those who are infected as cannibalistic in nature and without an understanding of what they are doing. As of now, I will begin researching our progress and those we come across. Our plan is not to leave this lab unless necessary. If we come across other survivors… (sighs) I don’t know, beyond surviving, I just don’t know.
CM: I plan to go back out today. I was only able to get a few things last time. We still need basic stuff. I will also look for survivors.
DK: And I need to get a few samples as well.
CM: You’re not going.
DK: Yes, I am.
CM: No, it’s too dangerous.
DK: I don’t remember asking.
CM: Celest, I don’t know how bad it is. I can’t lose you too.
DK: I’m sorry that you feel that way, but I need samples to test and –
CM: I don’t care what you say you need, I can get it, and you’re staying. (DK reaches for the camera) That’s fin-
– End of Entry (6:21)
Entry #6 (September 22)
Entry #6 (September 22)
(0:00) DK: Okay, so a few changes have developed since the last entry. I chose to stop filming because I felt it was unnecessary to capture our discussion…
CM: (behind her, in the background) It was an argument Celest. Call it what it was.
DK: We came to an agreement that I would be going with him to get the samples I needed. We were on our way back when I thought we encountered a fellow survivor. However –
CM: However, (coming into full view) thanks to her curiosity, we’re both done for. DK: We don’t know that for sure.
CM: Really? Go on, show what happened to you after you insisted on going up when I said it was too dangerous.
DK: (Exhales and lifts the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a bandage on her bicep. She removes the dressing to reveal a red bite mark.) Happy? CM: Happy? You think I’m happy!
DK: There is no need to shout.
CM: Really? I think there is.
DK: Okay I get it, I was stupid for wanting to go. At least I have something to work on. CM: Yeah, now we’re both going to die as a result. (leaves and a door slams)
DK: (she sighs and is silent until 2:01) He and I were both bitten, Lacie. I will not apologize for collecting the samples I needed, but I know he’s right. This isn’t good. I got several DNA samples from the infected as well as a few new clothing articles and some basic first aid supplies. I will keep a close eye on our progression. I will also begin adding digital documents of my research that corresponds with each video. Should you find these, maybe there will be some good done with them. Until next time Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (3:27)
Entry #7 (September 24)
(0:00) DK: It has been about forty-eight hours since our venture out and attack. Um, I am currently running a 102.2 fever, have an elevated heart rate, flu-like symptoms, and am beginning to feel a ravenous hunger. So far my bite mark is inflamed and tender to the touch. White blood cell count is high and climbing. I will update this entry in two hours or if symptoms progress. See you soon.
– Entry Paused (1:30)
– Entry Resumed
DK: (very lethargic) So we are more tired, and our wounds are worse. Rick has gone upstairs. He told me he doesn’t want me to watch him die. I told him that I didn’t want to become one of those things outside. I’m so sorry baby girl. I didn’t expect this to happen. I don’t know if you could plan for something like this. I didn’t think it would end this way. (her hand falls to the desk, and she is silent until 2:20) I don’t know what’s going to happen. (she sniffs and wipes at her eyes) Before Rick left, we argued. Then I found his gun next to my microscope. It still has a bullet in it. My last promise to you is that I will make sure to say goodbye before… (She shakes her head and is silent. She then sighs and reaches for the camera.)
– End of Entry (3:01)
Entry #8 (September 26)
(0:00) DK: (voice is stronger) A new development has occurred since my last entry. I didn’t expect to wake up this morning, but I did. I feel less tired, but I’m still very hungry and have a low fever. I ran new blood work and my white blood cell count, while still high, is lower than it was. The redness around my bite mark is also going down. I’m continuing to run tests on the samples collected and I’m comparing them to my own. I will update this entry in a few hours when I have new data and will continue with more entries in the next few days.
Also, I’ve yet to see Rick. He hasn’t been back since (looks at watch) about thirty-six hours ago… I went upstairs a while ago and didn’t see him. The sun was going down, so I decided to come back here. It seems to have quieted down up there considerably. I don’t want to think about what that means but… (sighs) I don’t know what’s happened to him.
– Entry Paused (1:50)
– Entry Resumed
DK: Okay, it’s been two hours since my last update, and the tests have yielded a few results. While the initial infection is gone from my blood, there seem to be remnants that have grown into something different. Dr. Mendez had dabbled with adding an adaptability agent to the original design but without her notes, I’m shooting in the dark. (sighs) At least I’m shooting though, right? I hope to use this information to… (a crash happens off-camera, DK screams and turns around) Jesus, Rick, (sigh) you nearly gave me a heart attack… Rick, what’s wrong? Richard? (CM is visible in the corner of the frame. DK’s back is to the camera. He walks slowly to her. He reaches a hand toward her.) Richard?! (DK sounds like she is crying, she shrinks away as CM lunges for her. He catches her and appears to go for her face. Her screams are muffled, then stop completely. CM is kissing DK. He lifts her, and she falls against the desk. The camera shakes.)
CM: Turn off the camera.
– End of Entry (2:27)
Entry #9 (September 28)
(0:00) DK: I don’t know where to begin. (snorts) I thought about going back and editing the last few minutes of my last entry. I really did… well, it’s something a little sister should never see. (laughs) You don’t plan these things, I guess. They just… kind of… happen. I guess you can tell Mama and Dad when you see this that I’m being taken care of. And I’m being
serious with that. (DK sits and rocks in her chair. She doesn’t speak until 1:07.) In the past two days there has been progress. Besides some minor headaches and insatiable hunger (laughter off camera) and that’s for food, I want to clarify that point.
CM: Yeah, I’m sure you do. (leans in camera’s view, kisses her head, and walks out of the shot)
DK: I’m officially working with the hypothesis that we will continue to grow immune to the virus the longer we have steady contact with it. It’s honestly no different than any other reaction to a virus. I’ll be starting from that point and building up. Until next time.
– End of Entry (2:37)
Entry #10 (September 29)
(0:00) DK: Okay, since yesterday, Rick has gone out for more food and supplies. I have asked him to increase our protein and red meat intake if possible. I have noticed that the days I eat more meat products than processed or grain-based foods, I tend to feel less hungry for longer periods of time. I don’t like what that suggests, but that’s what’s happening. From the stories Rick has told of the mobs of infected, I can surprisingly understand the need for meat.
We’re trying to build from what we remember of the initial accident; I really wish I had the Sentient notes. Without a firm understanding of what was used in that lab, I don’t have as much of a starting point as I thought. Though based on our symptoms, I am categorizing us as cognitively aware, alive versions of those outside. Our skin and vital organs show no signs of decay. Because there hasn’t been a lot else happening, I’m going to limit my entries to once a week unless otherwise necessary to conserve power. The lab’s generator has been stuttering the past few days and we don’t know how long it will last. (sighs) I’m hoping in the foreseeable future, we’ll have some kind of breakthrough. I honestly feel out of my element, which is weird because this was precisely what I did before. I’ll check back in a week. Hopefully, I’ll have positive results to share. Love you Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (1:40)
– Uploaded SentientResearchEntry10.docx
Entry #11 (October 9)
(0:00) DK: (DK sits in CM’s lap, CM holds DK) It’s been ten days since my last check-in. I know, bad Celest. But nothing has happened as far as symptoms and research go until now. (laughs) I know, I’m sorry. I’m trying not to laugh. A few days ago, Rick started saying that his hair was falling out. I started noticing it the next day, and well now… (DK takes CM’s hat off, he is bald) It really isn’t that bad.
CM: I beg to differ. My hair is gone.
DK: Relax you diva. I know it’s not what we expected, but really who are you trying to impress. I don’t care how you look.
CM: (sighs) Whatever. (CM pinches DK’s leg. She jumps. They both chuckle.)
DK: Immediate test results say we’re doing fine. However, yesterday we did experience a new set of… changes, I guess. Rick is saying that he’s experiencing an increase in stamina and strength. (CM starts to laugh) Shhh… I’m also experiencing long periods of awake hours, and sleep is becoming very rare for me now. (CM snorts and DK slaps his arm) There may be more variables at play. I know that things are changing. I feel different. Without remembering the cocktails we were injected with, I’m basically building from theories.
I think I may have a new idea of a possible antidote however; my concerns now are that with every change we undergo, the rules seem to change. Our bodies don’t react the way I think they will, and things are progressing in ways I have no way of predicting. It feels like I’m playing chess blindfolded. (leans against CM)
CM: We’re going up today, at least. I think we need some sun. You’re starting to look like a ghost.
DK: Nice, thanks. You’re going bald and now I’m a ghost. We’re starting to sound like the “Odd Couple.” (CM laughs and kisses DK. He gets up out of the chair while DK leans into the camera shot.) Alright Casanova… We are off. I promise to check in in a few days. See you then, Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (3:54)
Entry #12 (Est. October 11)
(0:00) CM: Okay um… I don’t normally do these. I ah, I’m not giving an update on research or anything but… With what’s happening, I wanted to make sure I said some things in case the unthinkable happens.
Um, so I was eighteen when I joined the military. Like my dad. We came from a military family. Nothing extraordinary or noteworthy. Just quiet Americans serving our people. My mom was the rock in our house. When Dad was deployed, she held down the fort with a reckoning rivaled only by God. (laughs) She was so happy when I got injured and sent home. I hated that at first. I wish I could tell her that I understand now. You helped me understand why Celest.
I did not think something like this could happen in my lifetime. I don’t think you did either, but it’s happening. Our world has changed beyond what we’re used to. I can only imagine what’s happening on the outside and to the people who can’t fight this. We’re in here safe but… out there it’s war.
Celest, I want you to know something in case this ends badly. You’re asleep right now. One of your rare moments of peace. I wish I could make those last longer. I wish I could shoulder this for you. But I can’t. You alone can figure out what happened to us. I’m just your guinea pig and go-for. And I’ll gladly stay that way as long as I live.
You snuck up on me, you know. I wasn’t planning for you. Then you appeared with Mendez and Rhoads. You were talking in the lab about something mundane, I don’t remember why I was there, I just saw you. I know I already told you this, but I didn’t tell you the most important part. I love you Celest. I know it’s fast, but sometimes the hardest tragedies bring out the best truths. I wanted you to have a recording of me saying it. In case I never get the chance. You deserve more, but this is the best I have to offer.
I pledge my life to you, for however long that is.
– End of Entry (4:02)
Entry #13 (October 12)
(0:00) DK: Remember when I said I needed sun, Lacie? Turns out I did. It also turns out that my skin has lost all pigmentation. I am the literal definition of white-washed now. Oh and, (takes off hood) yeah, it happened to me too. I’ve lost most of the hair on my body. I know Rick has as well. We can’t tan. We were outside all day, and nothing changed. No tan, no burning, nothing. I’m getting more concerned now, especially with a new serum I want us to try. I’m including the document with this video that documents any research ingredients and just about anything else I can think of. With these changes happening faster than I thought, I don’t know what to expect with this next test. I’ll make sure to record it later.
– Entry Paused (1:02)
– Entry Resumed
DK: (CM sits in a chair with a strap around his left arm. He is attached to a heart rate monitor.) Rick, are you sure? I can take the first one.
CM: And where would that leave us if you die?
DK: I wouldn’t die.
CM: Then neither will I, Cece. I’ll be fine.
DK: Fine. (louder) I finalized the serum about an hour ago. The theory is that this will counteract the food cravings in the brain and attempt to kill the lingering virus cells in our blood. We’re starting slow. If this works, we’ll tackle the next symptom. Alright. (grabs a syringe) Ready?
CM: Yep.
DK: Okay, injecting now. (DK injects CM in the arm) Now we wait. You feeling okay? CM: Just dandy.
DK: I will film my own injection in one hour if all goes well. But if it doesn’t… Then I don’t know, I’ll have to do something.
CM: Like hit me in the head with a baseball bat, or microscope?
DK: (places hand on hips) Ha, funny guy. You’re lucky I like you.
– Entry Paused (3:11)
– Entry Resumed
DK: Okay, it’s been about an hour. I’ve already got myself hooked up to the machine. CM: I can still do it for you.
DK: No I got it, you need to be monitoring yourself.
CM: Alright junkie.
DK: (laughs) Injecting now. (DK injects her right forearm) Okay, that’s done. (louder) Uh, we will be monitoring our progress and will check in in the morning, which is about three or four hours away. That should be plenty of time to see any immediate changes or problems. Until then.
– End of Entry (4:25)
– Uploaded NewSentientSerum.docx
Entry #14 (October 13)
(0:00) DK: It has been about six hours now since the first dose of the new serum was administered. The only noticeable differences are that our food cravings have gone down. I’m still hungry, but not ravenous. The only other instance is Rick was saying his throat was feeling scratchy and that he couldn’t talk without coughing. We’ll be looking at that in the coming days. Knowing our track record, I should be showing the same symptoms in the next few days. Though maybe not, we’ll see.
– End of Entry (0:45)
Entry #15 (October 17)
(0:00) DK: (quietly) So it’s been a few days, and this is as loud as I can get. We took a turn a few hours after my last entry, and we’ve been working around the clock. I tried to give Rick a counteractant since he was further along than me, but I couldn’t even break his skin with the needle. He hasn’t spoken aloud in two days. I checked his lungs and esophagus, but they’re completely clear. I can only assume that his voice box is damaged. It’s not that he doesn’t want to speak because he’s in pain, it’s that he can’t. I tried to make a pill form, but that didn’t work either.
(1:41) I think this is my last video. I can barely get above a whisper now. It’s pointless to do videos if you can’t speak. I’m scared, Lacie. Not worried, not concerned. Scared. We have changed beyond what I would think a human is. We are not normal.
Rick went out yesterday and was attacked. I watched as he was brought to the ground. I thought I was watching him die. Then he got up and fought his way through the mass of bodies.
He came out completely unscathed; no scratches, no bites. (huffs) I don’t know what we are anymore. Our hunger is back. The only type of sustenance we can hold down is meat. Without it we begin to rapidly deteriorate. We get headaches, fever, and onsets of delirium. I think it fuels our bodies in a way normal people don’t experience. From now on, I will be uploading documents only. Hopefully, when you see this… if you see this, you can keep this from happening to others. We have no hope of coming back now. The only hope we have is that we have managed to keep our own sentience. Without it, we’d be just like them. (sighs) I love you Lacie, I love you Mama, I love you Dad, (turns to a silent white figure, who places a hand on her face) and I love you Richard Marshall. (turns back to the camera) This is Dr. Celest Koenig signing off for the last time. I pray that those after us are more successful. Goodbye.
– End of Entry (4:24)
– Uploaded Sentient2.0.docx
– Uploaded FinalThoughts.docx
Any additional information will be noted.
Entry #1 (Date Unknown)
(0:00) Dr. Koenig: Hey Lacie. (huffs) I wish I could be looking into your sweet face. I wish I could be there and not in God knows where. But I’m not (looks away from camera) and I need to get this out, so here we go. I want you to know first that everything I’m about to tell you is true and to the best of my knowledge is accurate up to this point.
The reason I didn’t make it home for your birthday is because I was given a position on the team working on Project Sentient at a military research facility. Fort Morris is outside of Detroit. We were tasked with finding a cure and/or vaccine to fight the COVID-19 virus. We were also asked to develop a performance enhancing component to it. I guess the government branch that handed down the order thought this would be a perfect time to bake their own agenda into our crisis handling. Either way, I’m sorry I missed it. Maybe if I had declined, I would be there now.
But I need to keep you on point. As a part of Project Sentient, my main job was assistant microbiologist and specialist to our medical lead Dr. Melody Mendez (deceased). Her co-lead, Dr. Rhoads or Road Doc as we called him (Dr. Douglas Rhoads: deceased) worked with his two interns on the project as well. (pauses, looks away) Rylie and Trevor were their names. (Rylie McCaslin: deceased, Trevor Donald: deceased) The only other person there at the time of the outbreak was Rick (Corporal Richard Marshal). You remember him, (smiles at the camera) right? He was that cute guard I told you and Mama about. The one who always pretended I wasn’t funny even when he was clearly trying not to laugh. (laughs, then stills) Rick was delivering something at the time; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been in the room. (3:30)
(4:02) I’m not sure when you’re seeing this, but here are the facts. On August 15, unfortunately on your birthday, there was a pathogenic outbreak in the research lab. Rick and I were the only survivors from the lab that we know of. The pathogen was an experimental version of Sentient that we had deemed hazardous and labeled for disposal. I don’t know how it got out. All I remember was one of the others carrying a tray behind me then hearing the quarantine sirens going off. (sighs) We had no word for a while and had no idea what was happening until Sergeant Leon (Sergeant Fletcher Leon: deceased) finally came down in a hazmat suit. He told us that the pathogen was contained to our lab, but we weren’t cleared to leave. According to protocol, we couldn’t contact anyone on the outside for security reasons. Honestly, I think he was just trying to cover his own ass but, what do I know? He said that there was another team of scientists working on a counteractant and that he would be back with news soon. We knew better.
Throughout our research, we built in “safety nets” that would be in place if an event like this ever occurred. The nets acted as buffers to keep the strain contained; it wasn’t supposed to grow outside of them. This strain did. It mutated too fast to be safe. We knew that, even with a second team working, the surest way to stay alive would be for us to work on it as well.
We were beginning our sixth hour of quarantine when we started showing various symptoms. (picks up a pad of paper) Trevor was feeling nauseous, lightheaded at times, and was running a climbing fever of 101.2. He said his immune system was not very strong; that could be the reason why he was the first to show. We ran blood work and noted that his white blood cell count was higher than usual and also climbing. Fast. Soon after Rylie and Dr. Mendez showed similar signs of sickness, and Trevor began vomiting. By the seventh hour, we all had a fever.
(pauses, sighs) The drug was never supposed to be this. This… this was as if our bodies were turning on themselves. After the eighth hour, finally, Dr. Mendez found a way to slow down the pathogen’s progression. She made six doses and administered the first one to herself as a test subject. She seemed fine, so we gave the next ones to Trevor and Rylie. That’s when the delirium hit.
Trevor began screaming that he was on fire and started banging his head against the glass wall, separating us from the rest of the lab. Rick tried to hold him down… (7:02) Trevor grabbed Rick’s gun and begged us to make the burning stop. Rick and Dr. Rhoads made a grab for Trevor. The gun went off, and Dr. Rhoads collapsed. Rick was able to hold Trevor down long enough to get the gun away, then Trevor kept bashing his head against the floor until he stopped moving too. There was blood everywhere. After that I think we knew we were on our own.
(8:40) At the twelve-hour mark, I started to feel nausea. Dr. Mendez said she was experiencing the same lightheadedness as Rylie, and Rick said that his head was hurting. Rick moved the bodies into bags and tried to clean the blood up so the pathogen wouldn’t spread once we were released. Dr. Mendez had us take a modified version of the remaining serum and began building off that. Leon came back at the fourteenth-hour mark, and he had a set of antidotes he wanted us to take. Rick and I volunteered as the guinea pigs. After about twenty minutes, we felt no better but also no worse, so we figured that they were safe for Rylie and Dr. Mendez. After running more blood work, Dr. Mendez thought she was on the verge of a final counteractant. She had enough material to create two doses. She told us that if it worked, she would make more for both of us.
I think that’s honestly what saved us. At sixteen hours, Dr. Mendez and Rylie’s temperatures spiked. We hooked them up to a fluid drip… Rylie was gone within an hour. Dr. Mendez tried to talk me through her work she had already done, but in the end, she was too sick.
(10:38, wipes eyes) Rick moved the bodies into two more bags while I tried to finish. I don’t remember exactly what I did, just adding and subtracting stuff like I was playing with my old toy chem set. I told him this was probably going to be our last chance. I was so tired. He was too, (winks at the camera and sniffs) but he was trying to be strong for me. When neither of us could stand, he held me near the other bags. I remember listening to his heart before I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I don’t remember falling asleep though, only waking and feeling like I was in a sauna. I thought I was being kicked in the foot by one of the body bags, I guess it had been Rick shaking me. He told me we needed to move and that the lab doors were unlocked. That’s how we got here. Just so much running. Rick had been an army ranger before coming to us, so we were able to stay away from most of the densely populated areas.
Since finding this place, we’ve been consuming mostly water and light B.R.A.T items that we can find. Most of the symptoms have gone away except the headaches and fever. This lab’s generator is still in working order. I’ve run blood work and concluded that we still have an infection of some kind. Beyond that we are not getting any worse. Rick feels like we’re being hunted, but at this point, no one has come after us.
So that’s why I’m doing this video diary. For you. I want you to know what happened and if the worst comes, I can help you even if I’m not there. I love you Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (15:59)
Entry #2 (Date Unknown)
(0:00) DK: Alright Lacie, this is day four of research. I have run new blood work. Rick is fever free, but hungrier than normal. He’s lost weight since coming here. I honestly think that it’s because he’s been sick, but he’s adamant that he has never been this hungry. (looks around) We explored the lab. It must have been abandoned in the last few months. There’s still some basic equipment and supplies I can use. This must have been a very lucrative lab that was shut down quickly because there were still live cultures in freezers. I don’t want t think about what happened to the people who used to work here, but we’re here now.
The vending machines we’ve found still have in-date products, so that’s good news if we plan to stay for a while. Since this is an underground lab, we plan to stay here as long as possible; however, I highly doubt we will last long on M&Ms and Coke. Not much has happened other than that. (rubs eyebrow) I think Rick’s planning a trip tomorrow –
Corp. Marshall: Tonight!
DK: You said you were going to wait?
CM: Can’t. (comes into view) We need supplies now. (carries a backpack and leaves the view of the camera)
DK: Are you sure you can’t wait until – (sound of a gun being loaded)
CM: Nope, sorry. We are running low on everything and I need some air. Be back.
DK: Rick, wait… Rick!
– End of Entry (2:30)
Entry #3 (Date Unknown – Same Day)
(0:00) DK: So Rick left two hours ago to get more supplies. He took his gun and told
me to stay here. Honestly Alice, what the hell? I don’t know what to do with him. (sighs) I did some work and cataloged a few changes in my own blood which seems to be following the same track as Rick’s, only slower, (takes off glasses) though honestly who does he think he is? It’s not like I asked him to come with me or stop here and I’m working my ass off as well. He doesn’t need to act like such a –
CM: (in the distance) Celest! DK: (turns around) Rick?! CM: Celest! Where are you?! DK: Rick, what happened? CM: Get up here now!
– End of Entry (1:42)
Entry #4 (Date after the Fall of Detroit, September 17)
(0:00 DK sits in her chair. She does not speak until 2:46.)
DK: I… (sighs) I don’t… (DK stares at a point off-camera and begins crying. She makes no noise and stares into the camera. She sighs, gets up and leaves.)
– End of Entry (3:06)
Entry #5 (Est. September 21)
(0:00) DK: It’s been four days since my last entry and (sighs) about twelve hours since I started working again. It’s been hard processing what happened. Rick tried to go out again, but I keep telling him it’s not worth it. (laughs) I hope you’re okay baby girl. I hope you’re nowhere near this.
(0:59) I don’t even know how to describe what I saw. This is almost surreal. (shakes her head)
– Entry Paused (1:12)
– Entry Resumed
(DK and CM sit in view of the camera. They hold each other’s hands.)
CM: But what do I say?
DK: Anything. Think about it as if you’re just talking to my sister across the table.
CM: Okay, by now the epidemic has surely spread further than Detroit. While we are safe and presumably healthy, (nods to DK, who nods back) the majority of this town is in chaos. During my trips out of the lab, I encountered hostile looters and heavily armed civilians. It’s as if war broke out while we’ve been down here. I guess in a way it has. Celest thinks that the virus became airborne after we escaped Fort Morris. It seems that now it’s infected countless people. It could’ve been our fault that this happened. But we can’t be certain.
DK: (DK looks at CM 2:06) Yesterday we just sat by one of the windows and watched. The reason I haven’t made a video is because we saw what they did to a man. During my last entry, Rick was attacked. When I got to him, I thought the man was just trying to take his gun.
CM: A man yelled for it. He was frantic. I tried to fight him off, but he kept on reaching for it. Then they came. The guy said to run. We were being surrounded, so I climbed up a fire escape and turned to help him. It happened so fast. I don’t know how to describe the sight. (huffs) It was like a massive pit of bodies turning in on itself at a concert, with no music. Only… screams and… sounds of the body… (DK puts her arm around CM and he wipes his eyes)
DK: I hesitate to use the term zombie. It feels too much like a TV show or a stupid novel. However, I think we can safely identify those who are infected as cannibalistic in nature and without an understanding of what they are doing. As of now, I will begin researching our progress and those we come across. Our plan is not to leave this lab unless necessary. If we come across other survivors… (sighs) I don’t know, beyond surviving, I just don’t know.
CM: I plan to go back out today. I was only able to get a few things last time. We still need basic stuff. I will also look for survivors.
DK: And I need to get a few samples as well.
CM: You’re not going.
DK: Yes, I am.
CM: No, it’s too dangerous.
DK: I don’t remember asking.
CM: Celest, I don’t know how bad it is. I can’t lose you too.
DK: I’m sorry that you feel that way, but I need samples to test and –
CM: I don’t care what you say you need, I can get it, and you’re staying. (DK reaches for the camera) That’s fin-
– End of Entry (6:21)
Entry #6 (September 22)
Entry #6 (September 22)
(0:00) DK: Okay, so a few changes have developed since the last entry. I chose to stop filming because I felt it was unnecessary to capture our discussion…
CM: (behind her, in the background) It was an argument Celest. Call it what it was.
DK: We came to an agreement that I would be going with him to get the samples I needed. We were on our way back when I thought we encountered a fellow survivor. However –
CM: However, (coming into full view) thanks to her curiosity, we’re both done for. DK: We don’t know that for sure.
CM: Really? Go on, show what happened to you after you insisted on going up when I said it was too dangerous.
DK: (Exhales and lifts the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a bandage on her bicep. She removes the dressing to reveal a red bite mark.) Happy? CM: Happy? You think I’m happy!
DK: There is no need to shout.
CM: Really? I think there is.
DK: Okay I get it, I was stupid for wanting to go. At least I have something to work on. CM: Yeah, now we’re both going to die as a result. (leaves and a door slams)
DK: (she sighs and is silent until 2:01) He and I were both bitten, Lacie. I will not apologize for collecting the samples I needed, but I know he’s right. This isn’t good. I got several DNA samples from the infected as well as a few new clothing articles and some basic first aid supplies. I will keep a close eye on our progression. I will also begin adding digital documents of my research that corresponds with each video. Should you find these, maybe there will be some good done with them. Until next time Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (3:27)
Entry #7 (September 24)
(0:00) DK: It has been about forty-eight hours since our venture out and attack. Um, I am currently running a 102.2 fever, have an elevated heart rate, flu-like symptoms, and am beginning to feel a ravenous hunger. So far my bite mark is inflamed and tender to the touch. White blood cell count is high and climbing. I will update this entry in two hours or if symptoms progress. See you soon.
– Entry Paused (1:30)
– Entry Resumed
DK: (very lethargic) So we are more tired, and our wounds are worse. Rick has gone upstairs. He told me he doesn’t want me to watch him die. I told him that I didn’t want to become one of those things outside. I’m so sorry baby girl. I didn’t expect this to happen. I don’t know if you could plan for something like this. I didn’t think it would end this way. (her hand falls to the desk, and she is silent until 2:20) I don’t know what’s going to happen. (she sniffs and wipes at her eyes) Before Rick left, we argued. Then I found his gun next to my microscope. It still has a bullet in it. My last promise to you is that I will make sure to say goodbye before… (She shakes her head and is silent. She then sighs and reaches for the camera.)
– End of Entry (3:01)
Entry #8 (September 26)
(0:00) DK: (voice is stronger) A new development has occurred since my last entry. I didn’t expect to wake up this morning, but I did. I feel less tired, but I’m still very hungry and have a low fever. I ran new blood work and my white blood cell count, while still high, is lower than it was. The redness around my bite mark is also going down. I’m continuing to run tests on the samples collected and I’m comparing them to my own. I will update this entry in a few hours when I have new data and will continue with more entries in the next few days.
Also, I’ve yet to see Rick. He hasn’t been back since (looks at watch) about thirty-six hours ago… I went upstairs a while ago and didn’t see him. The sun was going down, so I decided to come back here. It seems to have quieted down up there considerably. I don’t want to think about what that means but… (sighs) I don’t know what’s happened to him.
– Entry Paused (1:50)
– Entry Resumed
DK: Okay, it’s been two hours since my last update, and the tests have yielded a few results. While the initial infection is gone from my blood, there seem to be remnants that have grown into something different. Dr. Mendez had dabbled with adding an adaptability agent to the original design but without her notes, I’m shooting in the dark. (sighs) At least I’m shooting though, right? I hope to use this information to… (a crash happens off-camera, DK screams and turns around) Jesus, Rick, (sigh) you nearly gave me a heart attack… Rick, what’s wrong? Richard? (CM is visible in the corner of the frame. DK’s back is to the camera. He walks slowly to her. He reaches a hand toward her.) Richard?! (DK sounds like she is crying, she shrinks away as CM lunges for her. He catches her and appears to go for her face. Her screams are muffled, then stop completely. CM is kissing DK. He lifts her, and she falls against the desk. The camera shakes.)
CM: Turn off the camera.
– End of Entry (2:27)
Entry #9 (September 28)
(0:00) DK: I don’t know where to begin. (snorts) I thought about going back and editing the last few minutes of my last entry. I really did… well, it’s something a little sister should never see. (laughs) You don’t plan these things, I guess. They just… kind of… happen. I guess you can tell Mama and Dad when you see this that I’m being taken care of. And I’m being
serious with that. (DK sits and rocks in her chair. She doesn’t speak until 1:07.) In the past two days there has been progress. Besides some minor headaches and insatiable hunger (laughter off camera) and that’s for food, I want to clarify that point.
CM: Yeah, I’m sure you do. (leans in camera’s view, kisses her head, and walks out of the shot)
DK: I’m officially working with the hypothesis that we will continue to grow immune to the virus the longer we have steady contact with it. It’s honestly no different than any other reaction to a virus. I’ll be starting from that point and building up. Until next time.
– End of Entry (2:37)
Entry #10 (September 29)
(0:00) DK: Okay, since yesterday, Rick has gone out for more food and supplies. I have asked him to increase our protein and red meat intake if possible. I have noticed that the days I eat more meat products than processed or grain-based foods, I tend to feel less hungry for longer periods of time. I don’t like what that suggests, but that’s what’s happening. From the stories Rick has told of the mobs of infected, I can surprisingly understand the need for meat.
We’re trying to build from what we remember of the initial accident; I really wish I had the Sentient notes. Without a firm understanding of what was used in that lab, I don’t have as much of a starting point as I thought. Though based on our symptoms, I am categorizing us as cognitively aware, alive versions of those outside. Our skin and vital organs show no signs of decay. Because there hasn’t been a lot else happening, I’m going to limit my entries to once a week unless otherwise necessary to conserve power. The lab’s generator has been stuttering the past few days and we don’t know how long it will last. (sighs) I’m hoping in the foreseeable future, we’ll have some kind of breakthrough. I honestly feel out of my element, which is weird because this was precisely what I did before. I’ll check back in a week. Hopefully, I’ll have positive results to share. Love you Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (1:40)
– Uploaded SentientResearchEntry10.docx
Entry #11 (October 9)
(0:00) DK: (DK sits in CM’s lap, CM holds DK) It’s been ten days since my last check-in. I know, bad Celest. But nothing has happened as far as symptoms and research go until now. (laughs) I know, I’m sorry. I’m trying not to laugh. A few days ago, Rick started saying that his hair was falling out. I started noticing it the next day, and well now… (DK takes CM’s hat off, he is bald) It really isn’t that bad.
CM: I beg to differ. My hair is gone.
DK: Relax you diva. I know it’s not what we expected, but really who are you trying to impress. I don’t care how you look.
CM: (sighs) Whatever. (CM pinches DK’s leg. She jumps. They both chuckle.)
DK: Immediate test results say we’re doing fine. However, yesterday we did experience a new set of… changes, I guess. Rick is saying that he’s experiencing an increase in stamina and strength. (CM starts to laugh) Shhh… I’m also experiencing long periods of awake hours, and sleep is becoming very rare for me now. (CM snorts and DK slaps his arm) There may be more variables at play. I know that things are changing. I feel different. Without remembering the cocktails we were injected with, I’m basically building from theories.
I think I may have a new idea of a possible antidote however; my concerns now are that with every change we undergo, the rules seem to change. Our bodies don’t react the way I think they will, and things are progressing in ways I have no way of predicting. It feels like I’m playing chess blindfolded. (leans against CM)
CM: We’re going up today, at least. I think we need some sun. You’re starting to look like a ghost.
DK: Nice, thanks. You’re going bald and now I’m a ghost. We’re starting to sound like the “Odd Couple.” (CM laughs and kisses DK. He gets up out of the chair while DK leans into the camera shot.) Alright Casanova… We are off. I promise to check in in a few days. See you then, Lacie Bear.
– End of Entry (3:54)
Entry #12 (Est. October 11)
(0:00) CM: Okay um… I don’t normally do these. I ah, I’m not giving an update on research or anything but… With what’s happening, I wanted to make sure I said some things in case the unthinkable happens.
Um, so I was eighteen when I joined the military. Like my dad. We came from a military family. Nothing extraordinary or noteworthy. Just quiet Americans serving our people. My mom was the rock in our house. When Dad was deployed, she held down the fort with a reckoning rivaled only by God. (laughs) She was so happy when I got injured and sent home. I hated that at first. I wish I could tell her that I understand now. You helped me understand why Celest.
I did not think something like this could happen in my lifetime. I don’t think you did either, but it’s happening. Our world has changed beyond what we’re used to. I can only imagine what’s happening on the outside and to the people who can’t fight this. We’re in here safe but… out there it’s war.
Celest, I want you to know something in case this ends badly. You’re asleep right now. One of your rare moments of peace. I wish I could make those last longer. I wish I could shoulder this for you. But I can’t. You alone can figure out what happened to us. I’m just your guinea pig and go-for. And I’ll gladly stay that way as long as I live.
You snuck up on me, you know. I wasn’t planning for you. Then you appeared with Mendez and Rhoads. You were talking in the lab about something mundane, I don’t remember why I was there, I just saw you. I know I already told you this, but I didn’t tell you the most important part. I love you Celest. I know it’s fast, but sometimes the hardest tragedies bring out the best truths. I wanted you to have a recording of me saying it. In case I never get the chance. You deserve more, but this is the best I have to offer.
I pledge my life to you, for however long that is.
– End of Entry (4:02)
Entry #13 (October 12)
(0:00) DK: Remember when I said I needed sun, Lacie? Turns out I did. It also turns out that my skin has lost all pigmentation. I am the literal definition of white-washed now. Oh and, (takes off hood) yeah, it happened to me too. I’ve lost most of the hair on my body. I know Rick has as well. We can’t tan. We were outside all day, and nothing changed. No tan, no burning, nothing. I’m getting more concerned now, especially with a new serum I want us to try. I’m including the document with this video that documents any research ingredients and just about anything else I can think of. With these changes happening faster than I thought, I don’t know what to expect with this next test. I’ll make sure to record it later.
– Entry Paused (1:02)
– Entry Resumed
DK: (CM sits in a chair with a strap around his left arm. He is attached to a heart rate monitor.) Rick, are you sure? I can take the first one.
CM: And where would that leave us if you die?
DK: I wouldn’t die.
CM: Then neither will I, Cece. I’ll be fine.
DK: Fine. (louder) I finalized the serum about an hour ago. The theory is that this will counteract the food cravings in the brain and attempt to kill the lingering virus cells in our blood. We’re starting slow. If this works, we’ll tackle the next symptom. Alright. (grabs a syringe) Ready?
CM: Yep.
DK: Okay, injecting now. (DK injects CM in the arm) Now we wait. You feeling okay? CM: Just dandy.
DK: I will film my own injection in one hour if all goes well. But if it doesn’t… Then I don’t know, I’ll have to do something.
CM: Like hit me in the head with a baseball bat, or microscope?
DK: (places hand on hips) Ha, funny guy. You’re lucky I like you.
– Entry Paused (3:11)
– Entry Resumed
DK: Okay, it’s been about an hour. I’ve already got myself hooked up to the machine. CM: I can still do it for you.
DK: No I got it, you need to be monitoring yourself.
CM: Alright junkie.
DK: (laughs) Injecting now. (DK injects her right forearm) Okay, that’s done. (louder) Uh, we will be monitoring our progress and will check in in the morning, which is about three or four hours away. That should be plenty of time to see any immediate changes or problems. Until then.
– End of Entry (4:25)
– Uploaded NewSentientSerum.docx
Entry #14 (October 13)
(0:00) DK: It has been about six hours now since the first dose of the new serum was administered. The only noticeable differences are that our food cravings have gone down. I’m still hungry, but not ravenous. The only other instance is Rick was saying his throat was feeling scratchy and that he couldn’t talk without coughing. We’ll be looking at that in the coming days. Knowing our track record, I should be showing the same symptoms in the next few days. Though maybe not, we’ll see.
– End of Entry (0:45)
Entry #15 (October 17)
(0:00) DK: (quietly) So it’s been a few days, and this is as loud as I can get. We took a turn a few hours after my last entry, and we’ve been working around the clock. I tried to give Rick a counteractant since he was further along than me, but I couldn’t even break his skin with the needle. He hasn’t spoken aloud in two days. I checked his lungs and esophagus, but they’re completely clear. I can only assume that his voice box is damaged. It’s not that he doesn’t want to speak because he’s in pain, it’s that he can’t. I tried to make a pill form, but that didn’t work either.
(1:41) I think this is my last video. I can barely get above a whisper now. It’s pointless to do videos if you can’t speak. I’m scared, Lacie. Not worried, not concerned. Scared. We have changed beyond what I would think a human is. We are not normal.
Rick went out yesterday and was attacked. I watched as he was brought to the ground. I thought I was watching him die. Then he got up and fought his way through the mass of bodies.
He came out completely unscathed; no scratches, no bites. (huffs) I don’t know what we are anymore. Our hunger is back. The only type of sustenance we can hold down is meat. Without it we begin to rapidly deteriorate. We get headaches, fever, and onsets of delirium. I think it fuels our bodies in a way normal people don’t experience. From now on, I will be uploading documents only. Hopefully, when you see this… if you see this, you can keep this from happening to others. We have no hope of coming back now. The only hope we have is that we have managed to keep our own sentience. Without it, we’d be just like them. (sighs) I love you Lacie, I love you Mama, I love you Dad, (turns to a silent white figure, who places a hand on her face) and I love you Richard Marshall. (turns back to the camera) This is Dr. Celest Koenig signing off for the last time. I pray that those after us are more successful. Goodbye.
– End of Entry (4:24)
– Uploaded Sentient2.0.docx
– Uploaded FinalThoughts.docx
Tera Moellendorf is excited to make her writing debut in the literary world. This theatre tech turned playwright previously wrote and directed for the Crystal Sea Drama Company’s stage, where she also learned how to build a better mouse trap and tell a good story. She is currently a student at The University of Texas in the Creative Writing program and will be completing her bachelor’s degree in Rhetoric and Writing in the fall of 2021. When she’s not working her day job, she’s reading historical fiction and baking just like her Mama taught her.
