Heh, sorry about the wall of text guys. lD I'm excited to start this plot~!
It had all been so... surreal when they first broadcasted the footage. An entire ocean of pure, clean water, hidden under a few hundred feet of the Sahara Desert. It had seemed too good to be true; so good, in fact, that some newspapers had went on to report that it was a hoax. They shut up nice and pretty when the government stepped in and used their special brand of intimidation. I was working in the Sahara at the time of the discovery, one of the original ten. They called us Team Heaven, the golden boys and girls sent out on a mission to bring peace to the world rotting away under their feet. You see, the water had all but run dry, and whole communities had started killing each other for what little there was left. I'll admit, even I was scared, all the way out in the Operations Base with nothing but sand and my co-workers around me. Scared that they, too, would rise up and go as insane as everyone else. I shouldn't have worried about them. I should have worried about what happened once we did find water.
It was much, much worse.
At first, it was almost unnoticeable. A few people died, all ruled natural deaths by uncaring doctors who had less time and more money to make. Next, a few hundred more, mostly centered in Africa and China; easily overlooked by the idiotic President ruling America with an iron fist. Poor nub didn't know that the organization I work with ruled over Earth with a fist heavily scarred and stained with blood. Over time, the deaths grew to such a level that even the President noticed, and then the news stations caught on. It was everywhere, with titles ranging from 'Mysterious deaths rampaging!' to 'Is this the end?' Heh. Those teenagers working at their desks to bring their glorified news to the public had no idea how right they were. In a matter of weeks, the death toll was half of Earth's population, and riots were more frequent than ever, fueled by mass hysteria.
The sad thing is, I helped start it. Don't blame me; I didn't know that the one body of water that could save us would also carry a deadly virus mutated over centuries of resting underground! But it did, and that's where this whole damn thing began. So here I am, one of the last 2% of Earth's population left alive, riding across the dunes one an emergency ATV with the sun burning my arms and sand beating my face. My name is Ethan Mandolum. I am utterly alone.
I muttered a curse as the ever-shifting dunes dropped out in front of me, my ATV screeching as it tried to catch itself. It did, thank god, because if not I would've been a human pancake. My ratty blond hair slapped me in the face, greasy from a month of no showers and gritty from all of the sand. I sighed in relief, spotting one of the safe houses in the distance. Hell if I know why they built a safe house right in the territory of the virus' origin, but it was better than nothing. I sped up, skidding to a stop outside of the building and swinging my leg over the ATV's back. "Hey! Anyone in there? I'm not infected, pinky promise," I yelled cheekily, grains of sand scratching my corneas.
It had all been so... surreal when they first broadcasted the footage. An entire ocean of pure, clean water, hidden under a few hundred feet of the Sahara Desert. It had seemed too good to be true; so good, in fact, that some newspapers had went on to report that it was a hoax. They shut up nice and pretty when the government stepped in and used their special brand of intimidation. I was working in the Sahara at the time of the discovery, one of the original ten. They called us Team Heaven, the golden boys and girls sent out on a mission to bring peace to the world rotting away under their feet. You see, the water had all but run dry, and whole communities had started killing each other for what little there was left. I'll admit, even I was scared, all the way out in the Operations Base with nothing but sand and my co-workers around me. Scared that they, too, would rise up and go as insane as everyone else. I shouldn't have worried about them. I should have worried about what happened once we did find water.
It was much, much worse.
At first, it was almost unnoticeable. A few people died, all ruled natural deaths by uncaring doctors who had less time and more money to make. Next, a few hundred more, mostly centered in Africa and China; easily overlooked by the idiotic President ruling America with an iron fist. Poor nub didn't know that the organization I work with ruled over Earth with a fist heavily scarred and stained with blood. Over time, the deaths grew to such a level that even the President noticed, and then the news stations caught on. It was everywhere, with titles ranging from 'Mysterious deaths rampaging!' to 'Is this the end?' Heh. Those teenagers working at their desks to bring their glorified news to the public had no idea how right they were. In a matter of weeks, the death toll was half of Earth's population, and riots were more frequent than ever, fueled by mass hysteria.
The sad thing is, I helped start it. Don't blame me; I didn't know that the one body of water that could save us would also carry a deadly virus mutated over centuries of resting underground! But it did, and that's where this whole damn thing began. So here I am, one of the last 2% of Earth's population left alive, riding across the dunes one an emergency ATV with the sun burning my arms and sand beating my face. My name is Ethan Mandolum. I am utterly alone.
I muttered a curse as the ever-shifting dunes dropped out in front of me, my ATV screeching as it tried to catch itself. It did, thank god, because if not I would've been a human pancake. My ratty blond hair slapped me in the face, greasy from a month of no showers and gritty from all of the sand. I sighed in relief, spotting one of the safe houses in the distance. Hell if I know why they built a safe house right in the territory of the virus' origin, but it was better than nothing. I sped up, skidding to a stop outside of the building and swinging my leg over the ATV's back. "Hey! Anyone in there? I'm not infected, pinky promise," I yelled cheekily, grains of sand scratching my corneas.
Last edited:
