Creepypasta Wiki
Advertisement

Author's note: This is my entry for Tewahway's Wheel of Misfortune 2022 story contest. My challenge was to write a story where all sentences begin with the same letter, and all characters must die



Time.

Don't lose track of it.

Days may fly by like books off of a shelf, but so long as I can count them, my sanity will remain. Doctors, my contemporaries, have been here for so, so long.

Two-Hundred and Sixty-Seven.

Day two-hundred and sixty-seven in this room, and we're still working feverishly to combat whatever it is we're facing. Don't let our appearances now fool you. Disheveled and broken on the outside, how we come across at this time betrays how hopeful and energetic we once looked.

Weeping.

Debra tries so hard to suppress her tears, but it's a futile effort. Debra is a bleeding heart, always has been, though at this point I don't think that's why she's crying anymore. During her time here, she's spent so long looking at the photos. Depictions of the symptoms caused by this... affliction... are what she peruses. Don't know why she does anymore, she's seen them a thousand times. Despite how terrifically it affects her, she continues viewing them, perhaps to motivate herself?

"Daniel..."

Debra called my name, having caught me looking at her.

"Daniel... How many days has it been, I lost count," she asked, her voice somewhat muffled and shaky because of her clogged up throat.

"Day two-hundred and sixty-seven, Debra."

Disgust formed on her face, her nose scrunching up and her lips curling to display an expression infused with despair and anger. During this moment, a deafening silence overcame the room, even with all the other men and women treading through the area, their spirits and appearances equally as diminished and decayed as ours.

"Daniel, how does... how can something do that to the human body?"

Debra continued shuffling the photos in her trembling hands. Disturbing visuals of what were once recognizable humans littered our folders, keeping us all too aware of what was truly at risk.

"Daniel it isn't... it isn't natural, I don't even know what the fuck I'm looking at sometimes, no matter how much I stare at these images. Doesn't make sense, it just, it just doesn't seem right," she continued, her voice growing thin as her throat tightened further.

Debra was correct, the symptoms displayed by victims of the affliction were ungodly. Unexplainable. Incomprehensible.

Affliction.

Despite having once coined a name for the disease, we have long since refused to address it like that. Diseases have names because they're recognizable. Diseases have predictable symptoms, as well as predictable timespans for symptoms to emerge and be active. Diseases, even ones such as the Bubonic Plague or Pemphigus Vulgaris, won't contort the human body into something unfathomably grotesque. Diseases, as horrific as they may be, are worthy of a name, unlike this nightmarish thing.

"Don't we have an obligation to tell people? Don't they deserve to know what's coming," Debra inquired, looking directly into my eyes.

"Debra, We can't just... do you know the panic that would incur? Doing that would only add to the misery of the people we are trying to save," I responded, my voice firm.

"Daniel, these people deserve to know, deserve to have the chance to prepare and make amends with their loved ones, don't they," She retorted, her brows furrowing.

"Deserve to know, sure, but they can't. Debra, you know what's at stake as well as I do, we can't be naïve about this and let our emotions take contr-."

Debra quickly cut me off, interjecting with an outburst that caught me off guard.

"Damnit, God fucking damnit! Daniel, what are they going to do when they find their son, or daughter, or wife or husband, or whoever the fuck, like THAT? Damn it, don't tell me they shouldn't have the chance to say goodbye to their family while they can still recognize them! Doctors... doctors are what we are, not fucking monsters! Do you think we can just cover all of this up forever?!"

Despite her change in demeanor having shocked me, I launched upright and towered over her, adjusting my voice to possess as much authority as possible.

"Don't you fucking tell me what I am or am not! Do you think I count the days we're here for fun? Do you think this shit doesn't get to me? Debra, I have a wife and son of my own, and if you think that I haven't spent every fucking waking moment pleading to God to let us find a cure for this thing so I can save my family, you are sorely fucking mistaken! Don't tell me about what's at stake, or what I have to disclose to the public. Don't think for an instant that I don't give a shit, because I will literally kill myself working on finding a treatment, let alone a cure, for this thing!"

Debra immediately shot back at me, matching my intensity. Despite her eyes having grown sunken and dull over the past few months, at that very moment, they displayed a flare I hadn't realized was possible for her.

"Daphne... Daphne is the name of my six year old daughter! Daniel, you aren't the only person who's here every day, fighting for someone on the outside that you love! Do you know how much I begged the administration to let me take her here? Do you know how much I wept, and how much I screamed, for them to allow me to bring her somewhere she'd be safe?! Don't act like you know what's best for everyone, because I am Daphne's fucking mother, and I'm not going to let some dick tell me what we should or shouldn't do when my daughter's life is on the line!"

Debra was upset, and of course I understood why. De-escalating the situation immediately took hold within the forefront of my mind, I knew her and I had come upon an impasse, and arguing would do no good.

"Debra, I'm sorry, I really didn't to upset you. Deep breaths, I think it would do the both of us well, we shouldn't let our stress overcome us and make us forget we're on the same team."

Debra relaxed back into her seat and let out a deep exhale. During her outburst she had released a lot of pent up frustration, as had I. Durable as we both were, holding all of that within us for so long had taken its toll.

"Daniel, I'm sorry, I just hope you can understand...," she said, her eyes facing the ceiling, her foot gently tapping against the floor.

"Don't worry, I get it, I really do. Dodging our inner anxiety isn't healthy, so I'm not upset about our exchange. Do yourself a favor, and persevere, for the sake of everyone, and for Daphne's sake as well, yeah?"

Despite having told her that to comfort her, I also did it to comfort myself. Deep down, I knew things were as bleak as could be. Deep down I knew... I knew the reason our venture into combatting the affliction was unsuccessful. Difficult as it was to hide the true reason we could not yet commence real, adequate testing on the affliction, it had to be done, for the sake of the peace of mind of my subordinates.

Debra offered me a smile, and I reciprocated her grin, though it was difficult... difficult not to falter, to give in and admit to her that Daphne couldn't be saved. Difficult to not tell her, and everyone who works under me and with me, both foreign and domestic, that it was a lost cause. Difficult for myself, even, to come to terms with the fact that my wife and son would be transformed into something... vile, something monstrous.

Damn it, I just couldn't... couldn't come clean about the fact that proper testing could not be done, because thus far, we have failed to find a control group among the global population, including ourselves.

Dear God, forgive me.



Written by Icydice
Content is available under CC BY-SA

Advertisement