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 Plague

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Cyril
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PostSubject: Plague   Mon Oct 07, 2013 6:07 pm

"Davros, if you had created a virus in your laboratory, something contagious and infectious, that killed on contact, a virus that would destroy all other forms of life, would you allow its use?"
"An interesting conjecture."
"But would you do it?"
"The only living thing, a microscopic organism, reigning supreme. A fascinating idea."
"But would you do it?"
"Yes. Yes. To hold in my hand a capsule that contained such power. To know that life and death on such a scale was my choice. To know that the tiny pressure of my thumb enough to break the glass, would end everything. Yes. I would do it. That power would set me up above the gods. And through the Daleks, I shall have that power!"
–Genesis of the Daleks

There was a warm, yet slightly abrasive, hum. A thick fog rolled over the plains outside of East City. It glowed many different colors and it dropped small dead animals. A voice, slightly muffled, called out from in the center of it. “STOP KILLING SMALL ANIMALS.” It shouted. “JUST. STOP IT.” The glow cloud waved about and seemed to diminish. The dropping of dead animals stopped. “WHY DO YOU EVEN DO THAT? THAT IS TERRIBLE.” The glow cloud shivered again and got smaller at the reprimand. Out stepped the current President of Earth, Cyril. “Ah, Earth. Where the grass is green, the sky is blue, and the people aren’t quite the same color.” Cyril drew in the Earth air and enjoyed the variety. He admired the landscape for a moment and felt proud to be ruler of the planet. Cyril quickly made his way down the hill. He had business to take care of. East City buzzed with noise and was thankfully free of any huge, dark towers. Cyril walked into the city and headed straight for the army base within. He reached a large blockish building patrolled by soldiers. They let Cyril pass with a salute. He entered the building and walked through the stuffy lobby straight to the elevator. Cyril hesitated for a moment and pressed a combination of numbers. Though they were on the ground floor and there were no clearly marked underground levels the elevator lurched downwards. Elevator music played in the background until the elevator stopped and Cyril stepped out into an underground laboratory. “General!” Cyril called. He waited a moment until a man approached him backed with a small group of very anxious looking scientists. “Status report.” The general opened his mouth but Cyril interrupted him, “From someone who actually understands the situation.” The general closed his mouth a bit embarrassed and gestured for a scientist to take the lead. Cyril was very pleased with the general’s self awareness. The scientist began explaining. “Well, you are well aware of the biological defense research going on. One of our scientists have gone AWOL and used our laboratory as a place to develop an extremely dangerous biological weapon. There is only one vial but it’s enough to destroy every single living thing in the North Galaxy.” Cyril nodded. “Do we know where he is?” The general took over here. “Yes as a matter of fact. We have traced him back to West City, though we aren’t sure where AT in West City. We do know, however, that to release the weapon successfully he would need to spread it quickly and infect many people at once to successfully keep it thriving.” The general finished proudly, glad he could contribute something. Cyril nodded. “Is there any cure?” Cyril already knew the answer to that but he figured he would ask anyway. “No.” The scientist answered firmly. “And none of us will live long enough to develop one.”
“I suppose we had best stop him before he releases it then huh?” Cyril sighed. “Don’t let him know we know where he is. Don’t send any soldiers. Let me handle this.”
Cyril entered the elevator without another word and went up. He exited the elevator and stopped to hold the door for a lovely military couple with a child. Cyril was confident he had enough time to stop the mad scientist and still be polite.
Cyril flew to West City with all due speed and entered the city surreptitiously. He had already figured out where the scientist would release the virus, there was only one spot in West city that would be good enough to release the virus. Cyril, with wings dimmed and covered by his robes so as not to attract attention, rounded a corner and entered a nice coffee shop. It was probably one of the nicest places in West City actually; everyone visited it for both the excellent beverages and the company of the sweet old lady who ran the shop. People sat all around, chatting with each other amiably. One woman sat alone, nervously tapping her glass of coffee. Cyril focused on her. She was the only one sitting alone and she looked anxious, this must be her. Her left hand was hanging by her side, she clearly had a gun. In her right hand she held a cup of coffee but the palm was turned slightly. That must be the vial; she would be getting ready to release it anytime now. Cyril pulled a chair up and sat down across from her. “Hello.” He said softly. The woman looked up sharply as if she hadn’t noticed Cyril as he sat down, “Go away.” She snapped. “We both know I can’t do that.” Cyril said in the same tone. The scientist glared at him and a cruel light entered her eyes, “You can’t stop me.” She leaned in, “The vial is so very fragile. If you even make a move to touch me I’ll break it and everyone is dead.” She smiled triumphantly. “I win.”
“Please, put the vial down miss. I’m only going to give you this one chance. Set it down. Walk away and run.” Cyril pleaded with her. The woman sneered, “And never stop running forever with a crippling paranoia?” she laughed bitterly, “What kind of life is that?”
Cyril leaned in, “It’s a life.” He said bluntly. The woman’s face dropped and she shifted uncomfortably. “No. I don’t want that life.” Her arm twitched but nothing more. Her face adopted a look of panic as she clearly tried to move but failed. Cyril was holding her in place with his telekinesis. Cyril reached across the table and gently removed her hand from the cup. He took the vial and kept her in his thrall. Cyril left without a word and soon after the police came to collect the mad scientist.


Word Count: 1,106

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PostSubject: Re: Plague   Mon Oct 07, 2013 6:59 pm

A man walked up to Cyril, wearing a tinfoil hat, "Heysh, you're the presisisisisisident of Raeth, right?" He thought for a momeng, "what's black, brown and red all over?"
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PostSubject: Re: Plague   Mon Oct 07, 2013 7:06 pm

Cyril recalled a joke told to him by a drunken and very racist man in a bar. He didn't really want to say it but if it was the answer, it was the answer you know?
"The burning cross on the lawn of a respectable African-American?" Cyril cringed. This would be really embarrassing if it was wrong.

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PostSubject: Re: Plague   Mon Oct 07, 2013 7:09 pm

"Nope. Rh.. Rih... Hri... Rhiaaananana." He blinked, "or Tina Turner."
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PostSubject: Re: Plague   Mon Oct 07, 2013 7:11 pm

"That's awful. This is awful. Awful, horrible, terrible."

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PostSubject: Re: Plague   Mon Oct 07, 2013 7:18 pm

(21,950 + 10,000) = 31,950 PL
(10,975 + 5,000) = 15,975 Z

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