Arch Status Misdirection Chapter 2; By Kusu Neru
Tongwo: ASM Chapter 2 | Tongwo (testificatetime.wixsite.com)
A mixture of shock and horror ran through Manzo’s spine, from his neck down to his feet. His breathing sped up as his legs buckled, depositing him on the carpeted floor of his home. Sweat ran down his face. “What… oh, oh my god…” Other murmurings came out of his mouth, but he ignored them. That… that had happened. He felt himself fall back.
He woke up again, about an hour later. He processed it all in his head. He ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, well,” he said, hoping to all the gods he had heard of that his hand wouldn’t hit something mushy, “Well, it… it happened, that’s for sure.” He remembered something from the nightmare, no, the… experience. Light had shone from his hands. What had that been? He inspected his hands. Sure enough, his skin, while looking practically the same to the naked eye, seemed to have the consistency of congealed blood, reminiscent of the time he had left a saucer of lamb blood out. He shuddered. He ran a hand across his cheek. It felt cold, clammy even. Almost like it was wet. Manzo suddenly had an idea.
He headed into his kitchen and grabbed a lighter. He held his hand above it. “Well, here goes nothing.” He flicked the switch. Flame coursed out of the top. His hand felt… odd. It was melting.
Blood oozed off of his hand, making Manzo retch. “Oh god,” He murmured. But the ‘skin’ didn’t go. Instead, more skin seemed to regenerate in its place, leading to a stream of blood seeping from his hand. He held it there, in quiet astonishment, for over a minute. He felt horrified, but it was a kind of horror where you wanted to see what would happen next. He took his hand off of the lighter, and his hand immediately returned to a normal consistency. He inspected it. “Well, that disease either turned me insane, or that actually happened.”
He sat back down on his couch, and turned on the TV. It was still on the channel from the night before. “…ck in the eastern region as nearly the entire population has been killed from the disease. The exact way is unknown, however biopsies report rooms full of blood and almost desiccated-looking corpses littering houses and streets. The hazmat team has been sent in, in order to hopefully find any survivors from the night. More on this at 3.” Manzo felt… stunned. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
“Hideaki, correct?” The man at the door said. He looked like he had came straight from a fallout game, with a huge gas mask and protective clothing covering every inch of his being.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“You know about the illness, Occisor 12?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Have you been outside in the last day or so, or have you had any of the symptoms listed on the 9 o’ clock news last night?”
Manzo was about to say yes, when he reconsidered. Saying yes would certainly make the man confused, as seemingly everyone else had died. He might be taken away, as a rare case, and they might even find out about the whole hand-thing.
“Well, umm, no, actually.” Manzo attempted too look inconspicuous. The man looked confused.
“Are you sure? This illness seems to have spread throughout the entire region. Even around this bit.”
“Well, I guess I just got lucky.”
“Hmm, alright. Final question, does this look familiar to you?”
A printout was shown to him, and Manzo gasped. It showed a room full of blood, with a man, almost empty-looking, laying dead on a bed with his limbs looking like burst balloons, and worms coming out. It looked almost exactly like what had happened to him. Still, he knew that he couldn’t say anything.
“Oh god, no! Why would you show that to me!” Manzo said, attempting to make a big show out of being horrified at the image. The man instantly retracted his arm, apologetically.
“My apologies, sir, I would have thought you'd've… I don’t know, really. Anyway, we have been ordered to evacuate this zone of all living personnel, including people. So, would you mind packing all of your belongings you wish to take?” Manzo felt… shocked. He had to… leave? But… but what about his job? His home? His fa… Oh, no.
“Yes, I… I'll be out shortly.” He shut the door, breathing heavily, a cold sweat starting on his forehead. He knelt down, running a hand through his short, blond hair. “I have to… go.” He muttered, slowly. He felt scared. Confused. What was the illness? How had it happened?
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