Morbus.avi

I was doing what I normally did at the ungodly hour of 2 AM, messing around on YouTube or facebook, or some other website I could use to entertain myself. I always had difficulties sleeping, so I’d go on the internet until my eyelids got heavy and I dozed off at the keyboard, forcing myself to climb into bed. Well, I was finally getting tired, tempting myself to give in to the warm calling of my soft bed and cozy blanket, when I remembered to check my e-mail that’s been neglected for over a week. I’d gone over to my account and cleaned expired coupons, junk mail, and spam files, until I came upon an actual e-mail. The peculiar thing about this e-mail, however, is that the account that linked the attached file was illegible. The text had run over itself, creating a scrambled and rather disturbing looking collection of dark chicken-scratch. Well, my computer was quite hot, seeing as I’d been on it for god knows how long. The e-mail had no description, no comment, nothing. There was merely a video file attached- nothing more.

The file was labeled “morbus.avi”.

Morbus… Weird. I’d heard that word before somewhere, but I couldn’t recollect where. I had conflictions deciding whether or not to download it and watch, but I was curious- I blame it on the night high and the desperate need to un-bored myself. I caved and downloaded the video, finding no virus or threat to my computer, according to the file-scan I’d installed. When the video finished its twenty minute download, I hit PLAY. The video began as static that lasted for 45 seconds and cut to a dark room with a metal doctor’s table in the center, a large cabinet backed against the wall behind it. The large table was lit only by a light bulb that dangled from a string from the ceiling. There was no sound, oddly enough. The video was completely mute. The quality of the video was awful and very grainy. It blinked to static a moment every few minutes. The camera that recorded this must have been very cheap. Finally, a human figure walked in front of the camera, dressed in a dark coat and gloves. They wore a pale white Plague Doctor’s mask with a hood, keeping every inch of their body concealed. The disturbing thing about them was their height. They were so… so tall… They’d have to be at least seven, maybe eight feet tall. They’re arms were chillingly long, their fingers like notched bony sticks. The person motioned for something behind the camera, crooking their scraggly finger at something I couldn’t see behind the camera. Two people, much smaller than the other doctor, dressed in similar garb came into view, carrying something on a stretcher. There was a large white sheet draped over what looked to be a body. This was getting weird- what the hell was this? My curiosity got the best of me, and I continued to watch, my skin prickling ever so slightly. The figures placed the sheet-covered figure on the table and whipped it off, revealing a man strapped to the gurney. He looked terrified, his eyes wild and filled with fear. A leather scrap was belted across his mouth, keeping him from screaming out. His forehead glistened with sweat and his chest heaved. I felt my stomach lurch. I hoped to god this was some sick horror movie, and that none of this was real. I had enough, and shut off my computer. I didn’t like horror movies, and I didn’t like scary things. I climbed into bed and let my heart slow down, trying to calm my rattled nerves. “It’s a fake video.” I told myself out loud “This is ridiculous to get so freaked out over- it’s definitely fake, a video some people made. It’s supposed to be cool.” I let out a breath and turned over; relieved I’d talked myself out of being so scared. The next day I felt pretty sick-my stomach felt in knots and I my throat burned like hot coals. I stayed in bed, my brain throbbing in my skull. I stayed in bed the whole day, constantly soaked in sweat. I must have caught a bug from my friend at work. He was out with the flu a couple days ago. Still unable to sleep, I climbed on the computer to watch more dumb internet videos. It took my mind of my aching head. Taking a sip of water, I remembered the video from the other night. It did look kind of interesting, if that didn’t sound too creepy. I opened the file, and oddly, it was back where I’d left off. The man was strapped to the table, the figure in the mask hovering over him. I hit PLAY again and started to watch the rest of the video. The man was lying on the table, struggling against his bonds. There was no sound at all, so I couldn’t hear a thing. The tall, gangly figure pulled a blade from the small cart beside the table and lifted it to the light, making the knife shimmer. The man on the table began to cry, shaking his head. The figure pulled a small box from a pocket in their coat. Small white text popped onto the screen.

“Subject has been confirmed with the infection- immediate surgery has been directed.”

They slipped the recorder back into their pocket and lowered the knife to the man’s exposed stomach, slicing down. I cringed. No antiseptic… The man shook his head and thrashing wildly, trying to escape the binds that held him down. The figure merely continued the incision then placed the blood-stained knife back onto the cart. He pulled his gloves on tightly, then reached into the man’s stomach and- I’d had enough. I didn’t want to watch it anymore. Fake or not, this was disgusting. My stomach felt awful now, worse than before. No wonder. I sat up from my chair and shut off the computer. I crawled into bed, sick to my stomach, and flopped onto my mattress. The world was full of sick, disgusting people. My dreams were plagued by nightmares on the second night. I saw them, standing in a dark concrete room in a circle with the tallest doctor in the middle. My dream was in the same crummy definition as the video. Each time the video blinked into a brief second of static, the masked man in the middle moved just a bit. It wasn’t really a movement. More like a twitch. About the third or fourth time the static spiked my dream, there was a white symbol etched into the concrete wall behind them, written in white chalk. The static blinked again and the doctors were suddenly lined against the wall, the tallest in the middle of them. The chalk symbol was now littered with bloody handprints. I woke up screaming into my pillow, my entire body so hot I felt on fire. My roommate burst into the room and grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me harshly. Sweat beaded from my wet hair, pouring down my forehead. My stomach cramped up, and I doubled over in agony and was instantly sick. I couldn’t stop screaming, screaming I couldn’t see, that my brain was exploding in my head. I instantly blacked from the pain. When I came to, my roommate was on my computer, watching the video. I blinked, ignoring the throbbing agony in my head and stomach and limped over to him. “Wh-Why are…you watching that?” I asked, trying not to vomit. “I don’t know. It was on your screen when I came in after you… you know.” “After I what?” “Dude, you like emptied your stomach out everywhere. There’s vomit all over the floor…” I looked behind us, wincing at the cramps in my stomach and muscles, and looked to the floor. It didn’t look like vomit, but more like the oil from a car. “This… this came from me?” I asked, a sick feeling growing my stomach. “Uh… yeah. Actually, I might take you to see a doctor tomorrow, when I have time. That doesn't look good...” I nodded and limped back to my bed and watched Brian, the aforementioned roommate, look at the video. He shook his head from time to time, sometimes even going “oh gross”. When the video ended he turned to me, a funny look plastered on his face. “Dude, this is disgusting. Why the hell would you watch this?” I shrugged. “Someone sent it to me- I didn’t watch the whole thing.” Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. He got up from the chair and walked from the room, not leaving completely before popping his head back in. “By the way, would you please not scream your freaking head off when you wake up? You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were dying.” When he left and the cramps ceased, I went over to my computer and sat down. The video was still up, so I decided to finish it. It was ten minutes long, anyways, and there was no way I could actually go to work like this. The video started again with static, and the figure stepped before the camera again. But, this time, the several others went immediately to the table carrying a sheet covered gurney, carrying the man. The sheet was removed, but this time it wasn’t the same man. Wait… that wasn’t right. Was this a different a video? No, this was the same one, the same awful video definition, dark and grainy. But, this wasn’t the same person. His hair was longer, he was slightly shorter than the other guy. I continued watching, and the beginning started as normal. The beaked figure slipped a recording device from his coat in a familiar situation and muttered into the box. White text popped onto the screen.

“Subject has been confirmed with the infection- immediate surgery has been directed.”

The first “doctor” cut into the stomach, but then reached into his stomach and… began removing his small intestine. Thick black goo dripped from the organs instead of blood. There was no sound to the video, but I liked to believe the man would have been screaming loudly, as he looked in excruciating agony. This wasn’t right. What happened to the other man? Why was this different? The doctor removed a few more organs, then took a small jar from the cart and filled it with the black goo that filled his body cavity. The man stopped thrashing, finally, and lay still on the table, his chest heaving and blood trickling from his mouth. He said something, what exactly, I didn’t know. The doctor set the jar on the cart and motioned behind the camera. The several other “doctors” ran over and rested beside the gurney. The man shook his head, eyes lit up with terror. The doctor’s ignored him, then brought a cloth from one of their pockets and wrapped it over his eyes. They took the strap from his mouth and jammed something in it and rebound his jaws. He must have been screaming too loud. They existed and the main doctor brought a jagged-edged blade from the cart. The last five minutes was of the doctor tearing out the man’s entrails, prying his teeth from his mouth and placing them in a small jar, then leaving the man on the table to bleed out and die. I shuddered, my spine shivering. What the heck was this?! That’s disgusting- even for a horror movie. My throat tightened, and I shut my computer. God, I didn’t understand. What made my head hurt about this video? Surely I’d seen something worse than this in theaters? I couldn’t remember, but something about the video made my stomach churn. I went downstairs to get a glass of water, my head throbbing again. As I filled a cup in the sink, my arm tightened. My stomach flipped. It felt as though someone had socked me in the gut, and I doubled over, grabbing the sink to keep from collapsing. I choked and gasped, feeling a pain rip into my stomach and chest. My ribs tightened and I felt my jaw clench. I was instantly sick, vomit burning my throat as it forced its way up and out of my mouth, blurting from my lips. I hacked loudly, vomit spurting from my mouth. I stood hunched over the sink, trembling like a leaf for at least ten minutes. When I opened my eyes, my chest heaving and my lungs gasping for sweet air, I looked into the mess. A horrible taste flooded my mouth, like rotted food and spoilt milk. My heart leapt in my chest, a shudder ran up my spine. Thick black goo stuck to the metal sides of the sink and clogged the drain. What was that? That was definitely not natural. “What…what’s happening to me?” I gasped, placing a hand to my soaked forehead. I tried to catch my breath, my chest still heaving, my mind over-flowing with painful thoughts. Everything hurt, everything ached. I tried calling for Brian until I remembered he had work today and wouldn’t be back until late tonight. What was wrong with me? I was too exhausted to call a doctor. Everything hurt, almost like someone had shoved my muscles into a meat grinder. I was in so much pain. I refilled another glass after I’d dropped and shattered the other in the goo-filled sink, then crawled into bed. I needed rest. I needed to get some sleep. I wasn’t thinking right, wasn’t processing things right. I climbed into bed and pulled the sheets over my head, flopping down on my side. My stomach rattled in my body, twisting and flopping about. I was in so much agony. Despite the throbbing in my head, I settled into an extremely uneasy sleep. Once again, the doctors invaded my sleep. They stood around me, binding my wrists to the cold steel table, the light that dropped from the ceiling gleaming in my eyes. They dripped with dark oil-like liquid, like they were constructed of it. I couldn’t scream out, couldn’t call for help. The beaked figures surrounded me, scalpels and blades clutched in their dripping, gloved fingers. I could feel them cutting into my flesh, the cold metal of their instruments biting into my skin. They ripped and tore into me with different saws and blades, black goop dripping from my wounds instead of blood. The pain was unbearable, blinding. As they cut into me like a science class dissecting a frog, I turned my head, the reason why escaping from my thoughts. There were so many. So many people lining the walls, their chests and stomachs gouged open; their eyes glazed over and blank. They watched the doctors crowd me, tools in their hands. My mind was reeling in terror- it screamed at me to do something, say something, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t… The man from the second video sat against the wall, blood dripping from his mouth. His pale, glazed over eyes lifted to my face and he merely smiled at me, blood caked in his teeth. He grinned and stared up at me with his milky eyes, then merely uttered one thing- “Don’t…let…the doctor…find you…” I woke up sweating, my heart slamming against my chest. I felt like my skin was on fire, and I couldn’t cease my shaking. What was happening to me? What… what was wrong with me? My stomach felt as though someone had repeatedly smashed their fist into it, or something along the lines of ramming a very hard object into my stomach at the speed of sound. I could barely move, could barely even groan. I checked the time- 10:57 PM. Thursday. I’d slept for 21 hours straight. 21 hours. I cringed as I tried to get up, my entire body throbbing and pulsating. I’d never in my life felt so much pain, never felt so sick. “Brian?” I groaned, not moving from my bed. No answer. “Brian?” Silence. I slowly rolled from my bed, clinging to the sheets as I stood. I needed my phone- I needed to call him and get to a hospital. My entire body was being washed over with agony. As my feet touched the carpet, my stomach lurched- I threw up all over my floor, black fluid spurting from my throat. Oh god. Everything hurt. Even throwing up exhausted me and rattled the nerves throughout my body. I shuddered, doubling over. The black fluid ran from my mouth like oil. I pulled my phone from my nightstand and dialed Brian, then listened to it ring. Once. Twice. Three times. “''Hi, this is Brian Rydeski. Sorry, I can’t reach my phone right now, but leave a call back number and I’ll return your call.”'' I groaned loudly, scowling. His voicemail. I left him a message. “B-Brian, its Michael… something’s wrong. I...I need help. Please, call me back- please.” I dropped my phone as my hand cramped horribly, the muscles in my fingers feeling as if they’re being pried apart. I yelled out, grabbing my wrist. I fell to my knees, trembling, wincing and almost forcing myself to tears. Black liquid drips from my lips and down my chin. I was in so much pain it was nearly blinding. As I choked back a scream, my computer monitor flashed. I turned my head to look at my laptop- the video, morbus.avi was on the screen. No. my mind hissed. ''No- I don’t need that, not now. '' I climbed to my knees and walked over t my laptop and tried to exit from the video, but it refused to close out. “Come on, you useless piece of shit!” I snarled. The video refused to close out, so I gave up and slumped in my chair, cursing to myself, pain searing into my stomach. I hated everything, hated life for making me so sick. I held back the urge to vomit, clenching my jaws and trying to take deep breathes. Perhaps…perhaps it was the video. No, could an online clip really do this? Make people this sick? Make you this twisted that you’re screaming in the middle of the night? No, no- it’s a video. I growled to myself. It’s a dumb video- IT CAN’T HURT YOU, you’re FINE. But I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t fine at all. My mind was reeling in terror, back-tracking to try to get a grip on this. Something wasn’t right here… The screen of my laptop blinked. The video sat on my monitor, almost calling to me, daring t me to click PLAY. I gave in, and hit the button. The video started instantly- the doctors were standing around the table, surrounding a human on the table. In the horrible quality of the video I could see he was limp, not moving. The coated figures strapped the man down then exited from view, leaving only the largest doctor and the man on the table. But, when they cleared…when they cleared… I heaved, my stomach feeling as someone had torn it in half. My heart jumped into my throat and my chest tightened. “NO.” I said aloud, my voice rising “NO- DEAR GOD, NO!” Brian was strapped to the table, his eyes distance and glazed over. He looked so out of it, so confused. I choked back my sobs, watching the screen in horror. The beaked figure raised a recording device to his face as he’d done twice before. My spine tingled as the same text appeared onto the screen. "Subject has been confirmed with the infection- immediate surgery has been directed.” “NO!” I wailed, screaming at the laptop. “NO, NO, NO, NO! NOOOOOO!” For over a half an hour I watched the figure carve into my roommate, tearing his stomach to shreds with the many bladed tools on his small cart. Brian didn’t thrash, didn’t cry out- he just observed in sheer horror as his body was opened up before him. The masked creature placed his bloodied tools on the cart beside him, the jar of black goo next to the red-stained metal utensils. Brian, still clinging to life, tilted his head weakly towards the figure. He looked so tired, so weak- such a contrast from the two days I’d just seen him… “Why?” The text appeared again. I’d suspected it was Brian who spoke. The figure rapped his gloved fingers on the table, then more text. “Because you have been infected. We are ending all the suffering the world might bring you.” I saw Brian give a shudder, then fell limp. The figure crooked a claw-like finger to behind the screen, and the rest of the masked people unbound him and carried him away. I expected the video to end there, but instead, the doctor stepped up close to the camera, facing me. His pale white beak looked so close to the screen it could have protruded from my monitor. The scarlet goggles that hid his eyes glimmered on his mask, his true eyes concealed from view. He was still for a few moments, just staring at the camera. Suddenly, slanted white text filled the bottom of the screen. “Do you see what you’ve done?” The screen blinked into static, and my laptop went black. I buried my head in my arms, agony racking my body. I felt tears sting my eyes and stream down my cheeks. I sobbed loudly; begging to a god I was no longer sure existed. 'No. No, no, no. Why- why us? Why us?' My questions were never answered. My body was enveloped in searing pain, the worse I’d ever felt- Worse than yesterday or the day before. It felt as though someone had jammed a hot iron down my throat and pressed the molten metal against the walls of my stomach. I’m dying. I thought bitterly. I’m going to die. I coughed and choked, something hot and sticky trying to force itself up my throat. I was instantly sick, dark oil-like fluid splattering on the ground. I gagged, trying to catch my breath. My throat burned and my vision blurred. I felt so distant and light-headed. My body began to shut down. I gave a massive shudder, the steam hammer in my head not ceasing its beat against my skull. I felt myself slip away into unconsciousness and soon, the darkness of sleep followed close behind. When I awoke, I was met with the bitter, salty taste of leather in my mouth. I was bound to a cold, steel table, my sight blinded by a bright light. I was surrounded by darkness none the less. Ignoring the agony that rolled through my body in waves, I tried to recollect my situation. Reality slapped me in the face, and I was engulfed in cold truth I screamed, screamed despite the binds clenched between my teeth. Tears trickled from my eyes which I instantly jammed shut so I couldn’t see the horrific scene before me. I shook my head and thrashed in my bonds, trying to escape, to try to get away. I was held fast to the cold metal table. My struggles were rendered useless. When I opened my eyes, still clouded by dizziness and sickness, I saw them- five of them. Their pale beaks pointed down at my face. I sobbed, my voice bouncing through the nearly empty room. My throat burned as I pleaded through the leather scrap. The tallest one waved the others away, then returned to my side, lifting a metal scalpel in a gloved hand. I felt death threaten to wrap its icy hands around my throat as I ran through my situation. This wasn’t a dream, an awful nightmare. I wouldn’t wake up in a hot sweat, my heart slamming against my chest in relief. No, it was real. I understood now. Morbus, the name of the file, a word I’d learned in a foreign language class, the Latin name for Disease. From what I remembered about Plague Doctors were that they were second-rate medical doctors that weren’t qualified for a true medical profession. They were used in 1348 during the Black Death epidemic. Most of them would die from the exposure. The words the doctor spoke came back to me, the slanted white text littering the bottom of the screen. "Subject has been confirmed with the infection- immediate surgery has been directed.” I realized it, I understood it perfectly now. I’d been so ill, so gut-wrenchingly sick that I couldn’t think clearly. But I got it now. We were infected. We were infected by the disease that rotted us from the inside. The video infected me, and now the doctors had to… take care of me. That’s why I felt so bad about the video, the awful feelings it gave me-because it was real. The Plague Doctor that stood before me snapped at his gloves, still clutching the scalpel. Then, he pulled a recording device from his pocket. The dead, hollow voice rattled through my head. It was such a disgusting voice, such a dry rasping voice. “Subject has been confirmed with the infection- immediate surgery has been directed.”