The Keeper’s Diary was discovered inside the Mansion above Umbrella’s laboratory. The diary itself was incomplete missing two days of entries. These are the missing days. About 6,000 words.
May 9, 1998
At night, we played poker with Scott the guard, Alias and Steve the researcher. Steve was very lucky, but I think he was cheating. What a scumbag.
May 10th 1998
Today, a high ranking researcher asked me to take care of a new monster. It looks like a gorilla without any skin. They told me to feed them live food. When I threw in a pig, they were playing with it… tearing off the pig’s legs and pulling out the guts before they actually ate it.
May 11th 1998
Around 5 o’clock this morning, Scott came in and woke me up suddenly. He was wearing a protective suit that looks like a space suit. He told me to put one on as well. I heard there was an accident in the basement lab. It’s no wonder, those researchers never rest, even at night.
May 12th 1998
I’ve been wearing this annoying space suit since yesterday, my skin grows musty and feels very itchy. By way of revenge, I didn’t feed those dogs today. Now I feel better.
May 13th 1998
I went to the medical room because my back is all swollen and feels itchy. They put a big bandage on my back and the doctor told me I did not need to wear the space suit any more. I guess I can sleep well tonight.
May 14th 1998
When I woke up this morning, I found another blister on my foot. It was annoying and I ended up dragging my foot as I went to the dog’s pen. They have been quiet since morning, which is very unusual. I found that some of them had escaped. I’ll be in real trouble if the higher-ups find out.
May 15th 1998
Even though I didn’t feel well, I decided to go see Nancy. It’s my first day off in a long time but I was stopped by the guard on the way out. They say the company has ordered that no one leave the grounds. I can’t even make a phone call. What kind of joke is this?!
May 16th 1998
I heard a researcher who tried to escape from this mansion was shot last night. My entire body feels burning and itchy at night. When I was scratching the swelling on my arms, a lump of rotten flesh dropped off. What the hell is happening to me?
May 17th 1998
When I woke up this morning, I was feeling even worse. Part of me thought about putting the suit back on just in case, the other part of me was thinking that whatever got out is probably worse than whatever was released a few days ago.
Right then, my door swung open and Steve came running into my room.
“Peter! Peter, what the fuck are you still doing here? We’ve got to go. Now!”
“Jesus, Steve, calm down. What’s going on? Is this about the researcher who tried to escape?”
“Researcher? What? No! The police, Peter. The god damn police are here. Special forces from Raccoon City.”
“Oh, them? They were taken care of already. Some sort of misunderstanding. Don’t you remember? That one guy. What’s his name? Tall guy, blond hair, super cool sunglasses?” I suddenly remembered my arm and made sure it was covered up.
“No, no, god damn it, Peter. There’s another team. Another S.T.A.R.S. team is here. It’s completely unauthorized.” I shook my head.
“Where’s security? Why haven’t they done something?”
“They’re gone! Everyone is gone!”
My head was swimming a little more that morning. Steve’s face was looking a little different than it usually did, funny even. He was sweating from places he didn’t normally.
“The dogs,” I assured him. “The dogs will get them. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“They’re already inside the mansion.”
A gunshot went off. It sounded like it came from right outside the door.
“Shit. Are you coming or what?” Steve took off back through the door and down the hallway.
“Steve? Where are you going?” I yelled as I followed after him.
After a couple of empty hallways, I came upon Steve kneeling down peering through one of the doors. He turned to me and put his finger to his lips. Something didn’t smell right. Smelled rotten. I choked a bit.
“Shh! I think I can hear them talking.” We both did our best to hold our collective breath. Their voices echoed throughout the dining room.
“Barry?”
“What is it?!”
“Watch out! It’s a monster!”
“Let me take care of this.”
A gaunt man, his clothes tattered, shredded, and covered in what must have been blood, slowly makes his way across the dining room hall. The two soldiers were visibly frightened. The woman stayed close behind the man who raised his firearm and squeezed the trigger 3 times. Steve’s hand tightened around my shoulder pushing his weight down on me. The body slumped to the floor. The room went silent. The man walked over to the now inanimate body that laid sprawled on the floor.
“What is it?” He holstered his weapon.
“Kenneth was killed too; maybe by this creature… Anyway, let’s report it to Wesker.”
The two stood up and ran out of the dining room.
“How could they do this to my creation?” Steve whined pushing back on me.
“Creation? You heard her: monsters. They are monsters. What the hell was that thing? I didn’t know we were doing experiments on humans!”
“Monsters to you, maybe, but not to me. What was it that one said?”
“Kenneth? Something about it killing Kenneth too.”
“No, the other name: Wesker. Isn’t that the name of the guy with sunglasses Stanford had talked about?”
I shook my head. “Who cares? You were right. We need to get the hell out of here before we get killed!”
“No, we have to move him.” I looked up at Steve. The look in his eyes was different. His face was contorted. I didn’t recognize him.
“Move him? Are you nuts? I’m not moving him.” He grabbed me by the arm.
“Peter! Just help me, we have to move him.”
“Fine, fine! But I’m taking the legs. You get the head. Wait, wait…” I stopped. The skin on my face and neck felt like they were about to jump off my bones. I raked my nails against them hoping to relieve just a moment of pain. Steve obviously noticed.
“Itchy?”
“Yeah.” Steve started to scratch his arm too.
“Yeah… me too. You don’t think–”
“Come on.”
Once we were certain the coast was clear, we opened the door and headed into the dining room. At the center of the room was a large wooden table surrounded by high back chairs. The only sound that accompanied our work was the echo of a large grandfather clock that lined the opposite wall.
We went to work as quickly as we could. I went for the legs and Steve stepped over to the shoulders of the body. It smelled something awful; like decomposing flesh that had been sitting out in the sun for too long. I was about to puke right there.
“Hold him steady,” he said. I gave Steve a stern look.
“I’m trying not to show you last night’s dinner if that’s OK.” I readjusted the weight. Steve stared down at the body. He looked sad like he just lost his dog.
“Alright, let’s go.” Together, we moved taking small steps closer to the far door. With each step, dark blood from the bullet holes spilled out onto the floor. I did my best to avoid stepping in it. Steve held the body close to his legs as he reached for the doorknob. He kicked it clear open and we continued through the doorway.
The door slammed heavily and we were back in the hallway covered in drab gray walls.
Steve pulled us back into the small cove, kind of like a waiting room with a framed picture on the wall and an overstuffed chair. On the floor was a body.
“Another one?” We dropped the body.
“No, I think it’s the other S.T.A.R.S. member they mentioned before… Kenneth, was it?”
“What difference does it make? Is he going to be like him soon?” I pointed down to the body we drug from the dining room. Steve bent down and examined Kenneth.
“I don’t think so. He looks too…”
“Too what?”
“Too eaten.” My stomach dropped.
“God, that’s disgusting.” I suddenly remembered the skinless gorilla playing with his food before biting the head off. Steve moved his hands around the head, opening its jaw and observing the neck. He gently laid it back down on the floor.
“I just don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand? Too eaten to return from the dead?”
“No, not that. Wesker. That’s the one Stanford was talking to about Umbrella protections.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, if S.T.A.R.S. members are reporting to him, isn’t he on our side?” I thought back for a moment.
“I only met him once, but I have a feeling he isn’t on anyone’s side. Where are we going to put this thing anyway?”
“Stop calling it that. I’ve worked for too long for someone to call it a ‘thing’.” Steve stood up and looked down longingly. It was hard not to notice.
“Do you remember him?” Steve shook his head.
“Not specifically. I think he was a convict, maybe. It was either this or the death penalty.”
“Do you really believe that?” Steve looked back at me, his face turned up.
“What?”
“The convict bit?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I started to grow impatient.
“Because I’ve heard some nasty shit going around about this ‘international conglomeration’ that we work for.” I was hoping my words would sting but Steve seemed unmoved. If anything, he looked offended.
“Like what?”
“Biohazardous weapons. Pay for hire death squads. More wealth than some third world countries… combined” Steve shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
“Why would I care?” I shook my head.
“Because your experiments could be contributing to the death of millions of innocent people.” Steve turned a pointed finger at me.
“My experiments as you so eloquently put it is to further science. To cure diseases. To extend the lifespan of humanity.”
“You call this humility?”
“Just help me drag him to a secure location. We can’t have him just lying about the mansion. Someone might try to take him.” He picked up his shoulders again and I heisted. He motioned with his head and I picked up his legs again. I took a deep breath hoping not to get the stink in my nostrils.
“Fine.” I readjusted my grip on the legs. He nodded and we continued back through the hallway.
A bit down the way, Steve opened the door to an adjacent hallway then a few more feet to my door. He waited.
“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think we are going to stash this thing in my room.” Steve’s eyes drilled a hole into my soul, but I didn’t budge. He exhaled sharply and we continued down the hallway step in step.
The other end of the hallway also ended in a door. Steve turned the handle and we walked into another hallway that wrapped around. Near the end was another door and a staircase that went up to the second floor. I knew immediately that there was no way we could drag this thing up to the second floor.
“What about here?” He gestured towards the door at his back.
“Where does it lead?”
“Only one way to find out.” Steve slowly dropped his end to the floor. For a moment, the weight felt light and I could take a breath.
Steve opened the door and inside it looked like a jail cell: a cheap mattress at the back of the room, a small cabinet, a large locker on the floor. Steve rushed to the cabinet leaving me with his life’s work.
“Oh, thanks,” I said sarcastically and pulled the body into the room and dropped it to the floor. I wiped my brow. Steve was grabbing jars off the cabinet shelves and spinning the labels around to read them. “Anything worth wild?” Steve shook his head putting the jars back.
“If you had a cold, been bitten by a snake, or have a gunshot wound, maybe. But this…”
The room was smallish, no more than a maybe ten feet by ten, and was already cramped due to the large metal box and cabinet. Something seemed off. Steve saw my wandering face.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. This room just seems odd compared to the rest, don’t you think?” Steve smirked.
“You realize there’s a giant laboratory right below our feet, right? What makes this room so strange?” I chuckled at the thought.
“Right, I get that. But look, a weird prisoner’s bed, this giant industrial strength cabinet. Then this huge chest here? And this old typewriter? What are these: ink ribbons?” I walked over and clicked a few of the keys. “It looks closer to some hermit’s old attic than a storage room you can sleep in. Doesn’t it feel out of place to you?”
“What it feels like is a good place to store a dead body.”
“A re-animated body,” I corrected him with a pointed finger.
“Oh, now you want to get technical? Just help me move it to the bed.” We picked up the body and roughly placed it on the bed. Satisfied, my attention turned again to the chest. It had to be at least four feet tall and looked heavy. What the hell was in it?
I placed my hands on the lid and traced the edges with my fingertips. There were two small gaps that fit my fingers perfectly. I bent my knees a bit and pulled straight up feeling the full weight of the lid. It creaked and groaned as it opened. I dropped it back down hard when I heard more gunshots in the distance. I spun back to Steve who was staring at the door. He seemed stunned.
“And that’s the sound telling us that we need to go. Now come on!”
“We can’t just leave. I’ve staked my entire career with this company. I’m not about to just squander it away because of some–”
“Someone with a trigger finger trained to kill? You’re going to die here.” That was it. I’d had it. Action begets action. I turned back to the chest, opened the lid, and searched through. My hand touched on exactly what I was hoping for and pulled out a handgun. “I’m leaving.”
“I’m sure you won’t get far with that,” Steve smirked.
I pulled back the hammer, checked the clip, and slapped it back in. I straightened out my arm feeling the weight of the gun and adjusting for it. I aimed, finger off, right at Steve’s chest. He jumped back.
“Hey! Easy there. Is the safety even on?” I looked down the side of the gun and had a pang of uneasiness wash over me.
“Oh, sorry. It’s not.”
“Asshole,” he spat. I dropped the gun to my side and watched Steve walk to the door. He stopped suddenly and reached back to scratch his neck. His fingernails dug into his skin instantly turning it red and drawing blood. He hadn’t stopped looking at the door.
“How long has it been that way?” He hesitated for a moment gathering his thoughts.
“This bad?” he turned to face me. “Probably a week or so. You?” I nodded.
“A couple of days. Did you get tested?”
“Yeah, came back negative, but even I knew something was wrong.”
“What happened?”
“Routine procedure went awry. I was helping in the Nemesis program and got the business end of a needle. Ran tests, but they said they could probably only slow it down.” His face changed then, he realized he knew his future. Then I remembered someone he mentioned from the poker game.
“What did Ada say?”
“Ada doesn’t know. I was going to go home and tell her but now… I don’t know. I feel like I might be putting her in danger, you know?”
“Yeah.”
It’s amazing the person you suddenly become when you know you’re at the end of your rope.
“I was just laying in bed one morning and Scott comes bursting in wearing this, I don’t know what, some sort of spacesuit; covered from head to toe. Tells me that I need to wear one right now or I’ll get whatever is going around. So I’m wearing this stupid thing for what feels like forever. Then I go get tested and they tell me I don’t have to wear the suit anymore. But the look in the doctor’s eyes… I knew. I knew it was too late.”
“Jesus, he didn’t even tell you?”
“He didn’t have to. I know when you are looking at a dead man.” Steve grabbed my arm tightly pulling me in closer.
“That’s why I need your help! If we can collect enough of these maybe we can create an antidote!” The look in his eyes was wild and desperate. I pulled my arm out of his grasp.
“Antidote? Don’t you think they would have found one by now? They’ve been working on this virus for years now.”
“You’ve met these suits. They never would have assumed it’d get out of hand. They never do, but here we are. We can do this. Together. We just need some more specimens, right? Will you help me?” Another series of gunshots rang out in the distance somewhere. Another part of the mansion. I’ve never seen Steve look the way he did now. Disheveled hair, dirty slacks, sweating. A man at the end of his rope. I thought for a moment. I only had one choice.
“Yes, I will help you. As long as we avoid what’s making all that noise.” Steve’s face lit up.
“OK, let’s go.”
We worked in silence for the next several hours. It’s probably the most physical labor I’ve done since high school.
Each time we found a door, we took turns peering inside to make sure that no one was roaming around. We’d run in, grab the body, and walk it out and back into the hermit’s attic. Every once and a while we’d hear more gunshots, some sounded like from more than a single gun. Sometimes they were close other times further away. We always waited until it stopped before trying the next door. With the last body in our hands, I dropped it heavily onto the floor.
“OK, how many is that?” I asked, trying to catch my breath. Steve put his hands on his hips, breathed deeply, then counted the bodies that littered the floor.
“Um… five, I think.” Steve seemed unsure, I counted six.
“OK,” I waved my hands. “That’s got to be enough. I can’t keep going. What do we do from here?”
“I just need…” he squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I just need to extract enough blood for me to do some experiments to see if I can make an antidote.” I took a step back.
“Wait, you don’t know how to do it?”
“I know how to do the experiments, I just don’t know how to make the antidote. I’m hoping the experiments will help me figure it out.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“How long is this going to take?” I asked. Steve started to pace what little of the floor was not covered in bodies.
“I don’t know! I could get it on the first try, or it could take…”
“It could take too long.” I thought back to the look on Scott’s face. How long had it already been? Were we already out of time? I shook away the thoughts.
“So what do you need?” I asked.
“Well, a syringe would help.” He half laughed then turned suddenly towards the storage chest. He stepped over the bodies and went for the lid.
“There’s nothing in there, remember? I already checked it. Just the gun,” I pointed to it stuffed in his pants.
“Doesn’t hurt to look again,” he said. I shook my head. I bent down to examine our latest grab. Something was different about this one. His skin looked redder than the others also crimson.
“Any luck?” I asked, turning the head back and forth. The flesh had already started to decompose even though it looked fresh. Rapid decomposition, I thought. Had to be a side effect of the virus.
“Well… I don’t… hmm…” I looked up.
“What is it?” Steve turned his head back to me.
“Well, there seems to be more things here than there was before.” I stood up and took a few steps forward making sure not to step on any of the corpses.
“How can that be? It was empty.”
“It may have been empty before but now there’s a bunch of stuff in here.” I shook my head.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe someone came by when we were out collecting bodies?” he reasoned.
“Then they would have seen the stockpile of dead scientists and soldiers we have going on here. You’d think that would have caused some sort of alarm. Like, oh shit there’s someone collecting dead bodies in the mansion. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” he said. I moved to his shoulder and looked into the chest.
“Is there anything here that can help us, oh wise and magic storage chest of holding?” I joked. Steve dug his arm back in and started pulling things out.
“There’s an insecticide sprayer which I might be able to use to extract the blood if I make some modifications. Oh, an empty bottle, what luck. There’s a potted plant. That’s a weird thing to have in here. Oh, and this, I’ll definitely need this.” Steve pulled his arm out again and put a grotesque mask over his face. The mask looked like it was cut from a man’s eternal scream of pain and agony. My heart leaped into my throat and I fell back to the floor amongst my dead coworkers.
“Jesus, Steve,” I screamed as he started to laugh.
“What? Never seen a creepy mask before?” He put the mask back in the chest.
“Not like that,” I said standing back up. I closed my eyes for a second but the mask’s haunting gaze flashed before me. A tickle in the back of my throat forced me to cough. I tried to cough it out but it felt like a belt-tightening around my chest and the cough got more violent. After a few moments, it passed and I started to breathe easily again. Steve put his hand on my shoulder to steady me.
“You alright?” he asked. I nodded.
“I’d be better if there was a bottle of water in there,” I joked. Steve chuckled.
“I don’t think so. Well, I can use the sprayer, this empty bottle, and if things go really bad, this!” Steve pulled out a handgun from his pants and cocked the hammer back.
“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll do wonders for your skin.” We shared another laugh. As if I was predicting the future, Steve reached to scratch the back of his neck.
“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” I asked. He didn’t look at me.
“Yes.” I decided to change the subject.
“When was the last time you saw Ada?” Steve laughed quietly, shaking his head. He adjusted the sprayer’s nozzle and fitted the bottle to it. He shifted down to the body we just drug in. A couple of twists and clicks and the bottle slowly started to fill with dark red blood. The son of a bitch figured it out.
“God, Ada. I haven’t seen her in months. I confessed the things I was hearing about Umbrella: the weapons research rumors, the experiments. She told me to leave. I tried to too. But upper management wasn’t having it. Told me I was paranoid. Told me that there was no way for anything to go wrong. I even wrote her a letter before all of this, but I have a feeling it’s never going to get to her.”
Steve started to cough again. He fell back to a seated position. His hand went to his chest and the other dropped the sprayer and grabbed for me. I clutch his hand, holding it as tight as I could. I started to breathe very deep and very deliberate hoping that Steve would match me. I tried to keep the conversation going.
“Yeah, I haven’t got a chance to get outside these walls in a long time. God; and Nancy. I was going to see Nancy on my first day off, but I ended up getting stopped by a guard. Something about the company giving strict orders to not leave the grounds. I couldn’t even make a phone call to let her know I wasn’t going to be able to make it. I’m sure she sat at that restaurant for a long time before she realized I stood her up. I never did get a chance to apologize to her. She probably thought she was nuts to give me a second chance. That was just a couple of weeks ago. It seems like longer.” I looked over at Steve. His breathing had slowed finally, but his other hand had dropped lazily to his side and he slumped his head down against the chest. A few moments passed. I knew Steve was gone. Christ.
“But then again, I probably look pretty nuts right now, sitting in a room full of dead bodies.” Steve didn’t move. “But I gotta ask, did you cheat at poker that night? Me and Scott kept exchanging glances the whole. We couldn’t figure it out. There was no way you got that many straights in a row.”
Steve’s body started to twitch slightly, his head created a tick. I searched the ground, picked up the handgun, and held it in my lap.
“Probably for the best, anyway. If I was doing well, I would have wanted to keep playing and then who knows what might have happened.” A slight moan releases from Steve’s lips as his head lifts up and his eyes stare at me unfocused. His arms fumble forward as if he’s trying to crawl for the first time.
I check the barrel, it’s full, hold it up and point it at Steve’s head.
“Goodbye, Steve. Thanks for…” Oh, hell. I didn’t even know.
I stood up, easily dodging the arm swipe from Steve and exited the room closing the door tightly behind me. I waited for a few moments listening for gunshots. Relieved, I started towards the lab, bottle of blood in hand.
Walking the empty hallways of the lab seemed out of a horror movie. Every step echoed back at me. I hadn’t heard any gunshots in a while. I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be a comfort or not. It wasn’t.
Rounding the corner, the room opened up to the large containment at its center. The water was murky and black. I remembered there being something in there, a shark maybe. Just more unwilling suspects in the pursuit to further science. Disgusting.
I took the door on the right and walked into one of the testing laboratories. I placed the bottle of blood on the table and gathered a few instruments. Jesus, Nancy, what the hell was I doing? I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t even know if I could do this.
My face started to itch again and it reminded me of Steve. How long did he say he’d been itching before he turned? A couple of days longer than me. I knew I didn’t have much time. I went to work.
May 18 1998
I woke up on the lab floor. I had worked through the presumable night and must have passed out due to exhaustion. When my eyes finally focused on the table in front of me, I saw that half the bottle of blood was gone. I had nothing to show for it. Failed experiment after failed experiment. I looked at my notes and it all seemed like chicken scratch.
My skin was feeling even itchier. I went through waves of hunger pains then nothing. When I thought about food, it made my stomach turn.
I suddenly remembered my high school science teacher, Mr. Howard. No one liked him. We would make fun of him behind his back. Jokes about his balding head and stuttering, but he actually made me appreciate science more. Well, maybe not the actual science, but the steps of the process. There’s something to be said about following a set of commands and then adjusting the next determined by the outcome of the previous. It’s like a game. I wonder what Mr. Howard is up to now?
That was also the year I met you. I guess I’m writing this diary for you now, Nancy. Although I know you will never read this. I’ve come to the conclusion that I will never be getting out of here.
But I must continue my work. I have to give myself a chance to win this. If Steve thought he could do it, then I know I’ve got a shot. If for anything, for you Nancy. To see you again.
I worked throughout the day, using as little of the blood as I could with each experiment. Everything came back negative. I was getting so tired that I didn’t know how much longer I could go.
There were a few times I heard scratching at the door, but I was too scared to check. So I kept to my work.
My notes became more and more illegible. Either that or I was just having a tough time reading them. My head throbbed and my skin wouldn’t stop being so god damn itchy. I started to shake. Then it happened: I used the last of the blood.
I collapsed to the ground and stared at the lab’s door for I don’t know how long. I only had two options: stay here and die or go out there and try to find more infected blood to continue my experiments. Every fiber in my being ached. My throat was dry. I could barely lift my arms.
I got up, shuffled my feet to the door, and pressed my ear against the cold steel. The machine hum of the generators a few floors down vibrated through the metal.
I slowly opened the door and looked out: more empty hallways. I grabbed the bottle then my heart sank: I completely forgot about the sprayer that Steve used. I searched the shelves and tables for a suitable substitute but came up with nothing. I’d have to go back to the hermit’s attic.
I locked the lab door behind me and quickly made my way down the hall. As I passed the murky tank, something caught my eye and made me stop. Had the water always been this color? Something in it had moved. I stepped forward and cupped my hands around my eyes to kill the glare.
Just then a shadow moved quickly towards me. The shark’s head hit hard against the glass pushing me back to the ground. A moment passed and then it slammed its head again this time cracking the glass. I scrambled to my feet and took off down the hallway. I looked back and the shark had finally broken through the glass sending all that dark water into the lab. That’s probably when I lost the handgun. I went through the next door, slammed it behind me, but the water seeped through the bottom of it. Its eyes, there was something wrong with its eyes. I pushed the thought out of my head and made my way back up and into the mansion.
If anyone didn’t know I was here, they sure do now. I had to be quick. I took a second with each door to make sure there wasn’t anyone on the other side before going through. Then a thought occurred to me: why not ask the S.T.A.R.S. members for help? They’re like the police right? I could just tell them that I was stuck here, against my will, and forced to work on the T-virus. Who would debate me? Everyone is dead!
When I made it back to the hermit’s room, the door was unlocked. I took a deep breath and opened it slowly. But the room looked undisturbed. No bodies, no sprayer, nothing. It’s completely empty. I rushed to the storage chest and lifted the heavy lid. A couple of herbs and a first aid spray that I immediately pushed into my forearm and expelled it. In an instant, my body warmed, but the itch didn’t go away. I threw the empty canister to the ground. Jesus, now what?
Exhausted, I decided the best thing I could do right now was to get a good night’s sleep. I stood up and opened the door and there in front of me was Steve, dead Steve, staring right back at me. His jaw slacked open, eyes unfocused, blood caked on his lab coat.
He lunged at me and I ducked out of the way back into the hermit’s room. I went to my waistband but nothing was there. Fuck! I lost the gun. He went for me again and I shoulder checked him to the ground. This was my chance so I took it and ran off down the hall. There were more of them now just standing about. I didn’t know if they were some of the ones we had captured before or others. No one looked familiar to me. Some of them completely ignored me, others had a passing suspicion and tried to grab me but I made it back to my room.
And now here I am: sitting at my desk, writing in this stupid diary that no one is going to read and if they do, they’ll probably only want my actual data and not the stuff to you, Nancy. God, all the mistakes I made. I should have just left. Should have told the guard to piss off and met you for dinner. I wonder where we would be right now?
I think I’m going to put a suit on. I have one in my closet. I know now there’s nothing I can do to stop what’s about to happen to me. I have no energy left to continue work on an antidote. I have no energy to fight off whatever is out there waiting for me. I have nothing left. God, I’m hungry. And my skin just won’t stop itching.
But for what it’s worth, I tried. I want you to know I tried, Nancy.
May 19, 1998
Fever gone but itchy. Hungry and eat doggy food. Itchy itchy Scott came. Ugly face so killed him. Tasty.
4
Itchy.
Tasty.
