No one knows where the Crimson Rot came from, only that it kills fast, spreads faster, eats through the flesh, and leaves nothing behind. It’s been 2 years since this apocalypse began. I was too traumatized back then, but now I’m used to it more than anyone else who survived the fall. It corrupts everything that makes contact with it, including the soil and animals, making our chances of survival much lower. We can only farm in secure places with a limited amount of soil, which is a major requirement. I’ve only met 24 people who survived the fall, and I don’t think they are supportive at all. In fact, I think they might kill me someday, or maybe even worse. Man, I feel exhausted. I should probably get some sleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night, as usual, to check what’s going on. I’m not safe here at all, you know. Just as I was about to stretch, I heard a very loud noise. It had to be from a gun. I felt my heart pumping faster and faster. Well, isn’t that a great way to start your patrol? Already drowning in tension. Oh, and I also forgot my flashlight near the crops. Perfect. Now it was just me, darkness, and the eternal silence in the room. I started walking towards the entrance, agile but quiet. I grabbed the doorknob, and I saw my hands shaking. I grabbed my gas mask to help me with the Crimson Rot. It’s even in the air. You know what you can’t find in nature anymore? Clean air. Even if you inhale a little bit, your lungs would fill with Crimson Rot, and after a few minutes, they would completely rot.
Wait a minute—why am I outside in the middle of the night? Oh right, patrol. I felt like I was being watched. Classic night paranoia, am I right? I’m pretty sure no one is awake at this time. Then I saw a body lying on the floor. It was David’s. He was always so nice to me, although he had a creepy look on his face every time. Then I heard footsteps behind me, but I was too slow. The shadowy figure had something in its hand. The figure stabbed me with it and ran away. I slowly took out the piece of metal, but there was something red on it. No, it wasn’t blood. It was Crimson Rot. Am I infected now? Oh god, this isn’t good. I could already feel it eating its way through me. Although it’s still not over. I need the Unalloyed Golden Needle. It is said that if you stab yourself with the needle, you will be cured. Of course, it’s probably a legend, but that’s my best way out of this situation.
I only had one problem. The Unalloyed Golden Needle was somewhere in the Lake of Rot, which has the most toxic liquid you can ever see. I took off my gas mask as I ran outside. It’s about time I inhale this toxic air, right? I arrived at my destination when I felt the rot in my liver. I collapsed to my knees. The Lake was gross, but I had to do it. I reached in with my hand. It was impossible to see the bottom, so my faith was up to my chances of finding the needle. I was racing against seconds, hoping for a miracle to happen. Then I found it: The Unalloyed Golden Needle! So it was true after all. I drew it from the depths of the Lake of Rot. It looked magnificent.
Just as I was about to stab myself with it, my arm fell off. Yes, you heard it right—my arm fell off. The Rot must’ve done it. I watched as the needle sank and my bones floated below me, and with that… it was over.