Creepy - FILE: T2R1H9

Episode Date: May 3, 2021

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Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Crippy Presents File T2R1H9 Written by Forlone Jackalope and produced by Steve Blizzard File number

3196.52R File name T2R1H9 File date creation June 15th 2018. File creator, Dr. X. Fitzgerald. File description, details in summary of the T2R1H9 virus. Date, June 15th, 2018. On Monday, June 4th, 2018, symptoms of a virus began to appear in several regions of the American Southwest, Central America, and Southeast Asia. Physical descriptions of the illness were reminiscent of certain animal bites.

but none could be matched to a specific animal. The origin of the virus is unknown. I will continue to post my findings as they've come, including updates about new symptoms. Good night for now. Dr. Zander J. Fitzgerald. Known symptoms, June 15, 2018. High fever, 100.4 Fahrenheit, 38 degrees Celsius,

dry mouth, pain, wheezing, sweaty palms, body aches, muscle soreness, nausea, loss of appetite, inflammation of the joints, and necrosis of the tissue at source. June 23, 2018. The CDC has officially released a press statement as of 8.13 a.m. Eastern Standard Time this morning on Saturday, June 23, 2018, to discuss the status of the disease. They verified that the new strain, now formally referred to as the T2R2H9 virus, is legitimate. They're working on finding a cure and method.

on how to contain it. The Department of Defense has yet to confirm the allegations of initiating martial law to quarantine major cities in which the virus has been documenting more reports of the virus. Known symptoms as of June 23, 2018, no changes. Date, June 26, 2018. A new break has come in search of a cure for the virus. An independent medical group station in Chicago, Illinois, has reported that they've attempted to see if can slow the rate at which the virus spreads or terminate it with rounds of known antibiotics.

Despite their findings being deemed inconclusive by the CDC, their findings suggest that nothing they tried worked to slow or destroy the virus. Known symptoms as of June 26, 2018, no changes. Date. July 1, 2018. The CDC has released a new statement, as of yesterday, Saturday, June 30th, 2018. They announced that none of their attempts to terminate the virus have worked, and that it started to replicate itself faster. Symptoms of T2R1H9 have begun to appear in parts of Europe, Africa, and Oceania.

A report from Thailand also came out corroborating the findings, as well as verification that the virus is evolving. No information is yet to be found leading to a definitive cause to the virus's origin. No word is yet to be announced from the Department of Defense about the initiation of martial law. However, news outlets have speculated rumors about a bill that will temporarily shut down trade ports and airlines as a means to attempt to contain the virus. Known symptoms as of July 1st, hallucinations, painful blisters, vomiting, dilated veins, rapid weight loss, tremors, mood swings, and high white blood cell count. Date, July 5, 2018. Chaos has begun to set in as news about the virus continues to spread.

The public is unrest, and most are fleeing to rural areas to escape the violence of the cities. The Department of Defense has officially placed the United States of America under martial law and instructs all nations who have yet to follow suit to do so as soon as possible. Autopsies of those who have been killed before the virus could fully spread, they've yet to provide leads to a potential cause to help examiners get closer to finding a cure. Examinations of the bodies show that several major organs appear heavily deoxygenated and inflamed, even hours after experiencing the first symptoms. Dissection of the infected organs revealed they were filled with pus and what resembled black mold.

One examiner, T. Kani, said that upon examining one of the mouths of the deceased, she noticed that their teeth were abnormal. She initially assumed the individual had gingivial recession, but their gums were perfect and showed no signs of disease or to keep. Instead, it was their teeth that seemed to be moving, as if there were new teeth trying to push their way up to the surface. Can I also commented that something about the eyes made her uncomfortable, but declined to comment any further.

Known symptoms as of July 5th. Potential tooth loss. Date. July 9th, 2018. The CDC has set up quarantine centers across the United States, Canada, and Mexico as means the section off the infected from the healthy. In these government-sanctioned camps, on-staff medical and government personnel have released statements about their findings

as they do test runs to find a cure, which were leaked to the deep web and appeared on various political and government message boards over the past 48 hours. According to personnel in an undisclosed base in Arizona, they revealed that some of the symptoms have taken a drastic and sinister turn for the worst. An unidentified petty officer and medical examiner reported seeing infected, individuals with dark blue and black scolera, as well as a sudden loss of their fingernails and seizures.

Their counts have yet to be confirmed, and the CDC has ordered that all diseased individuals are to be burned as a safety precaution, whether or not they're infected with the virus. The virus has confirmed as being in six continents, and all airports and borders in 110 countries have been closed as of Monday, June 9th, 2018. Known symptoms as of July 9th, fingernail loss, dark discoloration of the sclera, outbursts of rage. Date, July 17, 2018. A research team in Wyoming has taken the data calculated from the base in Arizona and decided to do a series of experiments to study how the virus changes.

According to the study, they took three patients who are at different rates of the infection, placing them under heavy surveillance and separated chambers on Tuesday, July 10th, 2018 at 1,300 hours. Day 1. Subject 1. Sex unspecified. Age 25. Showing mild and moderate symptoms, loss of appetite, moderate body aches, tremors, nausea, vomiting, and mild hallucinations of the visual nature. Overall health, stable. Mooter temperament, good. Thoughts, clear Subject 2 Sex, female

age 33 Showing moderate to severe symptoms Rapid weight loss, nausea, vomiting, dilated veins, mild discoloration of the scleras, fingernail loss, moderate hallucinations, visual and auditory, mild to moderate tremors,

and a high blood cell count. Overall health, stable. Mooder temperament, Fine. Thoughts. Scattered. Subject 3. Sex, male. Aged 45. Showing severe symptoms. Demonstrate some degree of all the known symptoms with the exception of loss of appetite. Subject 3 shows symptoms as yet to be documented amongst the infected. 1. His original teeth have fallen out and replaced by rows of jagged sharp teeth made for ripping flesh from bone. And two, a form of Wendigo psychosis, which is characterized by deep cravings for human meat as food.

Upon being given a cooked steak, he refused to eat it. When given a raw steak, he became curious, only to throw it across the room after tasting it. When given a scrap bucket of viscera from the morgue, he took it into a corner and devoured all the contents. Overall health, unstable. Mood and temperament, easily distressed and volatile. Thoughts.

scattered and unclear. A four. Subject 1. Condition is steadily gotten worse. Subject 1, Sclera have turned black, now expressing bouts of intense rage. Overall health, unstable. Mood and temperament, unpredictable. Thoughts, unclear.

Subject 2. Condition has remained stable. She still has no appetite and has to be guided to eating. Her sclars are dark gray. and several of her teeth have been replaced with the same teeth as Subject 3's. Subject 2 refuses to sleep or can't. Overall health, stable. Mooter temperament, anxious.

Thoughts, scattered. Subject 3. Condition remains unstable. He refuses to eat any food items that aren't in his bucket, and has been documented demonstrating violent bursts of rage if his knees aren't met accordingly. Subject 3 requires mad. maximum level amount of security when having food transferred to him and has demonstrated inhuman amounts of strength.

He's also recorded from surveillance cameras tormenting and antagonizing on-duty staff. Overall health, unstable. Mooder temperament, unstable. Thoughts scattered and cloudy. Day 7. Subject 1. Condition has slowly gotten worse. Now demonstrating incredible bouts of strength, throwing their

They're bed across the room when their demands weren't met. When Subject 1's fingernails were collected for testing, they attacked an on-duty guard, mildly injuring him in the process. Subject 1 refuses to talk or to comply with the orders of staff officials. The status of the guard's health is yet to be disclosed. Overall health, unstable. Mooter temperament, agitated. Thoughts unclear. Subject 2.

Condition is slowly gotten worse. Her loss of appetite has receded, and she now claims to have an insatiable appetite for raw meat. When asked why, she said she doesn't know, only that she feels like she's going to die if she doesn't. On-duty staff decided to test their theory, placing a raw steak and a large bucket of harvested viscera on her table. After some time, she took a liking to the contents of the bucket over the steak. After finishing the contents, she was asked why she made the choice she did. yet, to which she said she doesn't know, only that something told her to, and how she thinks she wants more. Overall health, good, mooter temperament, stable, yet easily distraught. Thoughts,

clear. Subject three. During the sixth night, Subject three attacked and killed an unarmed staff member in his cell. The guard was found crudely disemboweled, with its organs gone and his blood splattered across the room. The subject was found in the corner of his cell, smiling with blood on his face, arms, and body. All attempts to subdue him by armed personnel failed, and was fatally gunned down as a last resort. Overall health, terminated. The experiment has been terminated, but Subject 1 and Subject 2 were sent to a maximum security area for further examination before being reintegrated with the base. Subject 1 shows a little sign of improving, and Subject 2 is unclear.

known symptoms as of July 17th, insomnia, paranoia, suicidal ideation, changes in appearance of teeth and fingernails, misshapen, deformed, and jagged, strong cravings for human flesh. July 20, 2018. This will be my last update for some time. I'm going to be boarding a private jet with a group of on-based scientists to abase in the American Northwest to collect more data on the virus. which will include myself, KW, J-G, O-A, M-N, D-Z, N-V, and A-M. I'll do my best update my log regularly when we arrive to my destination.

We're expected to depart on Tuesday, July 24th at 0300 hours. We've been informed ahead of time that we'll have to receive extensive training before we'll be allowed to interact with the infected directly, meaning we will only have access to interviews and data by means of surveillance footage or by means of separation as demonstrated with the experiment. We'll be careful, and the next update should be from our new findings at the base. As of now, no new information has come forward about the status of any recently discovered symptoms. Date, July 26, 2018.

We landed on the base two days ago, and our search for a cure has been going as planned. My investigation team and I are going to undergo our official training tomorrow morning, which will give us time away from the lab to get acclimated to what it will be like to work with the infected up close. We're nervous, but hopeful. We've been informed that representatives from CDC bases on the East Coast will be flown in via private service to work alongside us in our mission to provide a vaccine for the virus, with a hope that it will prevent it from spreading further. The current estimated number of infected population is 956 million. Known symptoms as of July 26th.

No changes. Date. July 31st, 2018. Our training course has been successful, and we're scheduled to start getting to work with the infected in the next few days. Several of my colleagues are hopeful that if we don't find a cure soon, we'll at least find a patch to slow the virus's replication rate. Yet, many others remain skeptical and doubtful.

With this being the fastest spreading virus that we've come to know, infecting nearly one-seventh of the world population in less than two months. I'm going to call this update closed for now, as I have a lot of papers to handle. And my designated theme and I have to transport some of the infected to a new security base. Known symptoms as of July 31st? No changes. Date.

first 2018. Shit, something went wrong during a transporting process. When we were escorting the infected inside, a guard didn't see two infected individuals that were roaming the premises unsupervised, being subsequently attacked in the process.

We weren't prepared for this. They didn't train us for this. We tried to quickly get the others inside, but the two infected ragers got in with us. They attacked the five of us who were closest to the door, and on our guard, O-A, K-W, N-V, and V, and myself, you slow.

And one thing they don't tell you during your training ops is that they bite hard. We're being placed under quarantine for the next few days to check on us. Just in case they microscopically broke any skin during the scuffle. I was given permission to bring my computer into my designated chamber

so I can continue to work while I'm recovering. In the event that I've become infected with virus, I'll be given a series of test drugs to see if they cancel out the negative effects of the virus. I'll also be documenting my experiences with those as the days unfold. This is going to be a long, long ride.

It's been two hours since we were quarantined, and just over three since we were initially attacked. That was bitten and scratched on my left calf, and that pain was excruciating. I was screaming and cursing at the top of my lungs nearly the entire way to the emergency unit. Pain was unlike anything I ever felt. being a combination of what I can only describe as a snake bite, a wasp sting, and a second-degree burn being magnified tenfold. After my wounds were disinfected and patched up, I was given a round of test antibiotics and a morphine pump before being escorted to my isolation chamber. The room is sterile and smells vaguely of pine and cedar. I have a single metal frame bed, a desk connected to the wall, a single shelf above a wall, a single shelf above.

the desk and a small table where my meals would be served. Surreal being in a room like this. Knowing what became of those during the experiment. At the moment, I feel fine. The morphine has been helping a lot to dull the pain. The only thing to report on is the muscles in my left leg feel aggravated and sore. Symptoms as of August 1st, muscle aches. Manageable with medication.

Number two. I got a couple messages. some people asking to know how I'm doing, and how the rest of my team is. It's been six hours since my last post, and I'm starting to feel nauseous, and experiencing some dizziness, though whether or not that's attributed to the virus or as a side effect of the medications they have me on, as far as the others go, I haven't been told yet. I'll do my best remember to ask guard the next time one of them comes to check my vitals. I'm going to try and get some rest and see if that helps or not.

Symptoms update August 1st. Nause. Cause undetermined. Dizziness. Cause. Undetermined. Date, August 2nd, 2018. It's day 2 of my recovery process. I woke up at 0600 hours to have my vitals checked and had breakfast served to me at 0630. I'm feeling nauseous and I didn't have much of an apple.

I picked at some of the fruit they gave me and resorted to mainly sticking to a cup of hot coffee. I feel heavy and fatigued all over. As if I just have a serious cold, I might go back to bed soon. I don't have the energy to move around right now. I'm going to respond to some emails I got in regards to recent updates, and then call it quits until my vitals checked again at 12.30 hours. Symptoms update as of August 2nd. Hoss of appetite, fatigue. 12.45, and I woke up in excruciating pain about an hour ago.

I jolted up in my sleep feeling like my skin was on fire, and I felt like I tore a muscle, not pulled or strained, but tore a muscle as if it was ripping itself from the bone. I tried to give myself as many pumps of morphine as I could, but I'm on a time system. So even after a full dose, I was still in tremendous pain half an hour after the fact. And armed guard and two medical personnel came in to get my vitals, and I told them about my pain levels. They assured me that this was normal and not to worry.

I also asked about how the unnamed guard, KW, O, A, and NV were doing. They told me they were fine, and they should be discharged soon. If they or others from my group come back to check on me, I'll be able to verify their statements done. I try and eat something like to get my strength up, and then possibly get back to working on some papers from my bed. The current estimated infected population, according to the main CDC headquarters, has now reached 1.7 billion. Symptoms update as of August 2nd. It's 1835, and the medical personnel gave me some medication to bring my appetite up, and so far it's helping.

I was able to clear off a sandwich and a small salad, and I'm doing well with holding it down. The medic who checked on me took some new labs, said I should have my results in by tomorrow afternoon to see if the antibiotics are working or not. They were surprised that was as calm as I was at the time, and that it was a relief for them. I asked them what they meant by that, but they wouldn't budge. I pride them about it until I got them to care. I'm still part of this investigation, and I have the right to know what's going on. They told me they've worked with hundreds or even thousands of people who've been infected by the virus. And they knowing how calm, almost unaware of how sick I truly was, caught them off guard.

They continue to say that mood swings are one of the most commonly reported symptoms, and are more often than not violent. I stopped them for a moment, asking what they meant by the last. thing they said, about not being aware of how sick I really was, as if they realized they said something they weren't supposed to. They just grabbed their supplies and left without saying another thing. I'm starting to get a little scared. I still haven't seen the rest of my team. I'm going to try and get some rest again soon.

I can hear a storm coming, and from the looks of it, it won't be a good one. Symptoms update as of August 2nd. No changes. August 4th, 2018. I apologize for not updating yesterday like I should have. The weather has been atrocious. And our entire grid lost power from 0.4.30 to 2050. I was able to get some notes typed out before my battery died.

So here's what I'm able to recall. My morning routine went much the same. and I was able to be escorted to a quarters area to clean myself up, giving some fresh air away from my confinement was fine. But I still felt like a caged animal with how close I was being monitored. My body aches and pains have subsided, and I was able to move around more without feeling like I needed some type of assistance. My appetite has come back,

and I was able to make up for all the calories I missed in the form of heavy nutritional shakes and protein bars. Working me near time, darkness through my circadian rhythm off and I ended up sleeping most of the day. Today I was much the same. After the power came back on, I was finally able to get my lab results back and my white blood cell account was triple what it should have been. My body knew something was wrong and was doing the best to fight off whatever it was. The medic who saw me the previous day came back to administer more antibiotics and experimental test drugs, as well as give me another physical. In the light of the

room, they were able to make out my features closer and get better readings. The veins in my hands and arms were mild and moderately dilated, and both my fingernails and cuticles were chipped or torn and beginning to bleed. They took an ophthalmoscope and went to check my vision, pausing for a moment to take notice of what I didn't want to believe were the color of my eyes. They just gave me this look, one where you know they're hiding something from you. They continued the exam and told me that everything was checking out But whether or not that was a good thing they wouldn't say One thing is certain

I'm infected And if my reports over the last two months have been indicative of anything It's that this is only the beginning And things are going to get worse from here on out Symptoms update as of August 4th Thylated veins Discoloration of the school Sclera, dark gray and blotchy, increased appetite, damage to fingernails, and cuticles.

August 5, 2018, I wasn't able to sleep last night. All I could think about is how the past five days have gone, and how this isn't what I wanted out of coming here. I spent a good hour throwing up, terrified of knowing what awaits me when this damn disease spreads further, thinking about the two subjects in last month's update that are still, hopefully alive, and a fear and dread they must feel or have, knowing there's an insidious being

raging inside them, and there's nothing they can do to stop it. I wonder how many of them tried to fight back against it, and how many gave up and caved to the beast, while I was curled up on the floor and a mess of my pity and sorrow. I thought about subject three.

Wondering which category he was in during all of this. Did he try to fight to suppress the side effects? Or did he lose hope and let it win? In the days leading up to him being brought in for the study, he seemed fine, albeit distress. He's clearly hiding something. Perhaps trying to mask his pain as a virus weighed him down?

I don't know. There's a peace now. And that the other two, wherever they are, can have some solace in knowing that they're going to beat this thing. or when. But we will. We survived the bubonic plague, the 1918 Spanish influenza,

World Wars. In the wake of tragedy, we've proved time and time again that we're strong and we're resilient beings. We're not going to go down without a damn fight. Everything works out in the end.

Symptoms update as of August 5th. Anxiety, source, undetermined. Vomiting. Source. Undetermined. August 6th, 2018. A week again. What I want to do is sleep.

I'm losing sight of what's real and what's not. I can't tell if I'm seeing or feeling things because I'm cracking up or if it's the virus showing itself more to me. Spent a good five minutes shaking in bed. It had a grand mal seizure when I went to clean myself up just an hour ago, which is something that's never happened to me. I was able to get a hold of D.Z. and J.G. were given authorization to meet me. For their protection, they were put in specially designated hazmat suits, and I was handcuffed to my desk.

It was bittersweet seeing them, and the look on their faces seeing me was otherworldly. How to describe it? But it's just that bleak look of acceptance you see when people are seeing their loved ones for the last time. is if they instinctively knew things weren't going to end well for me. They told me the status of the project to look for a cure, which was going as well as I should have expected.

The virus was replicating it an alarming rate, and there was no telling what could be used or done to slow it down, even a fraction of the rate it was developing. The virus was changing its structure almost every 72 hours like clockwork, and predicting its next make it. up structure was impossible. In layman's terms, we were fucked, and then asked them how the others were doing. M.N. and A.M. were fine, and we're planning on heading back to our original camp to get away from all the stress they were dealing with here. When I asked them about

KW, O, A, and V in the Guard, I went quiet. J.G. asked me if I was serious, and then became angry when I told him I had no clue what either of them were talking about. I didn't even know how they got hurt or how bad it ultimately was, only that I wasn't the only one who got attacked. DZ was surprised that I wasn't told about anything and proceeded to fill me in the best of their abilities. The day after we were quarantined, they got the news that O.A. died sometime during the night

when her a order ruptured sometime in her sleep. KW was in and out of the operating room since yesterday for what they only told me was organ failure, and that envy was stable by refusing to talk to anyone. I asked them about the guard again, and they told me when they went to go visit KW in the ICU, they swore they saw someone strapped to a gurney, screaming about how that fucking disease is going to kill us all and kill me now before it makes me hurt. You. Before they left, they try to comfort me and tell me they were not going to stop looking

for a way to beat this. Even if they have to die trying. J.G. added that he was going to send me something to look over when he gets back to his dorm. He told me it was for my eyes only and not to share it with anyone in our circle. I wasn't sure what he meant by that. I told him I would keep his promise. Symptum update as of August 6th. no changes.

For one, I got JG's file attachment, and I spent a good hour analyzing it. If what he sent me is true, then this changes everything. Not only for our investigative team, but all of us. In all my years as a virologist, I've never seen anything like this before.

And it could possibly be one of the most blatant cases of men. medical mispractice that I've ever seen. If this is real, morally repugnant for me to keep this an update in an hour with my decision. I'm starting to feel sick again and my back pain is starting to search again. Update number two. This now. I fired a message to J.G. Asked him if anyone else in our group knows about this.

He replied back quickly, telling me the DZ does, and he plans on telling MN and A.M. before they board their flight back home. I could tell he knew I was on to something, to which he sent me an angry email back. He insisted that if I told anyone about the attachment, there was going to be dire consequences for all of us. I demanded to know where he got the information from. To which he told me that he talked to the guard

he saw strapped at the gurney and private when the medical team was gone. The guard said he saw someone open the gate where the two infected people were. That it wasn't an accident. The guard was adamant that the attack was on purpose, and that he was sure he wasn't the intended target. But one of us were.

He went on to say that he found the two surviving candidates from the test. Subject two told him about how she became infected with the virus. She claimed that she was a child psychologist or an EMT in the wake of the outbreak. and that she often hopped from base to base to help where she could. While stationed in a base near Atlanta, she was approached by a group that claimed to work for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services about partaking in a clinical study to try a potential vaccine against the virus. When she declined, feeling something off about them,

she claims they stowed her in the back of a van and injected her with what she believed had been a strain of the virus. She was found abandoned several miles outside Chattanooga with no recollection of her captors. I believe this story for himself. She showed him scars she got from the struggle when she began to develop partial necrosis at the injection site. I thought he was bullshitting with me. Ellie sent me the photos as proof what she went through. He continued by saying that she's sure this entire outbreak wasn't a fluke or freak in nature.

But something... thing is making my head spin. While it quits for the night, I feel like someone's watching me. The current estimated infected population is believed to be 2.8. Symptoms update as of August 6th. No changes. August 7th, 2018. I woke up to my pillow and bed sheets being soaked with blood and I wasn't sure why.

When I went to open my mouth to call for help, my teeth began to fall out one by one. I don't think I ever screamed that loud before in my life, and it took two guards to hold me back so I wouldn't hurt myself. I watched helplessly as a medic bagged my teeth and collected a sample of my blood, walking away as if nothing happened, down to process what was going on, so I instinctively ran my tongue across the inside of my mouth, hoping this was some kind of fucked-up dream, and that this wasn't happening. All I could feel were jig and edges where my teeth once were, almost like shards of broken glass, instead of wailing on anyone or anything that was close to me.

I had enough. Whatever this shit was, a natural occurrence, or some damn test by the government, was finally starting to really hit me that this was real. I could feel my blood boil as I threw everything I could get me, my hands on across the room. I smashed my table to pieces, ripped the shelf from the wall, stripping the bolts in the process. It wasn't until I was coming down for my rage that I saw the extent of what I'd done. Not only was my room destroyed, but I had also broken my left hand

in the process. The weirdest part, though, was that I wouldn't have even noticed unless I saw it for myself or had it pointed out to me. I can't tell if my outburst made me invincible or if I'm no longer able to feel pain. I'll let you know when I test my hypothesis again. Symptoms update as of August 7th. Complete tooth loss. Outburst of rage.

Mood swings. Inability to feel or sense pain. Source. determined. August 13, 2018. I've been a work testing my theory about my ability to process pain or possible lack thereof. I took one of the pins off my jacket and poked at the back of my hand. Nothing. I try prodding the tips of my fingers. Nothing. I tested it again on my arm, skewering a small piece of my skin in the process. Still nothing. No pain or anything to speak of.

Even after I started to bleed again, I wanted to push my now almost certain hypothesis even further. I took one of my fountain pens and rolled up my sleeves. I gripped the pen tight in my hand, and with all my strength I stabbed myself in the upper arm. I could feel the nib of the pen bend from the force, snapping upon making contact with my humorous when it broke through the skin. I've ripped the pen out of my arm, sending a large spread of blood across the floor. Nothing. I barely felt it. I had the now broken, useless pen in my hand, covered in blood in what was left of the ink.

I stared at it, fascinated. A new thought was starting to cross my mind. I knew now that my hypothesis was correct, and that this wasn't a side effect of my mood swings. This was something entirely different. I finally knew, or at least, was quite certain, that I could no longer feel pain. Now I couldn't help it to wonder if I would find myself in a place where I can no longer feel anything at all. I'll update you on that theory when the time comes. Symptoms update as of August 13th.

Inability to feel pain. Confirmed. August 15th, 2018. I've been pouring over my notes to try to come to a conclusion as to what I'm going to do with the information J.G. gave me. The signs were everywhere that this wasn't normal. It was something the public needed to know. However, the question was, what would we do after that makes things complicated?

Do we kill the infected? No matter the stage of their diagnosis? Do we just launch all of our nukes and hope there's enough survivors to start over? I don't know. I finally saw my face for the first time in what feels like weeks. It was eerie, to say the least, to see how this was manifesting itself. Staring back at me in an attempt to diagnose myself, the physical characteristics of the virus were nearing its final stages for me.

My teeth were starting to come back, but weren't like they once were. Now we're also cryptid-like in appearance. The capillaries in my skin on my face and neck were more prominent. The condition which my division dubbed Angel's skin has gave the appearance of the skin being ethereal and almost translucent. My eyes have succumbed to changes as well, becoming pitch black and almost. void-like. Upon closer examination I noticed that not only did my scleris change, but my irises did as well, going from brown to black, as if the pigment was eaten away. The texture of my

hair on my head hasn't changed, but it seems like the hair everywhere else, aside from my face, was becoming lighter. I don't recognize myself anymore. Is this the part where I have a nervous break down or get lost in myself. I'll update this later when I can. I'm staring to feel in wild again. My stomach hasn't stopped growling since I left my room. Symptoms update as of August 15th. Arrival of new teeth.

Complete discoloration of the iris and sclera. Angel skin. Changes in hair texture. Depersonalization. The stomach has been in a knot all day, and no matter what I tried to alleviate it, it just keeps getting worse. I've tried an assortment of anti-naudia medications and drink, but nothing works. For the past hour, something in the back of my mind and insatiable craving for something. I couldn't place my finger on it.

But the more I lingered on it, the more I knew what was going on, I need to test something. Update 2. I just sent a request for something specific to eat. And I'm going to see how this turns out. This is sick. I don't want to do this. But I have to. I have to find out if what I'm thinking is true.

I'll make another update within the next hour. Number three. So I try to put my theory to the test. It worked. It actually worked. I didn't want to. I don't want to believe it would, but it did. I spoke to a guard that this was part of the week-long experiment and told them about the

craving. She understood what I meant by that and went to go take care of it. She came back with a bucket. That vomited she put it on the new table in front of me. The smell of the viscera emanating from the bucket was revolting, and I almost threw up. The way they almost shined under the fluorescent lighting and a collection of their own fluids brought back painful memories of college. The sheer weight of the bucket caught me off guard. I pulled it close to me.

One thing I could do, the voice in the back of my head grew louder. Telling me if I don't eat that I'm going to die. If I eat, I'll be okay and it will go away. I swallowed my pride and reached into the body. bucket swashing the various guts around as they slid across each other. The feeling of wanting to vomit came back as I felt how slick they were. Tore at it with a choice meat that would use for stew. It had some bite to it and wasn't stringy.

And moments ago it melted away the more I ate. And that's when I knew I was right. This was it. This was the symptom. I feared the most as it signaled the last state of changes that my team and I were made aware of. Part of me knew that this was wrong, and that this wasn't the kind of person I was. This was sick. This was fucked up. Yet I couldn't stop. Any ounce of self-control I had went out the window along with whatever humanity I held onto. I was becoming the very thing I was afraid of,

and that there was no going back. This damn disease made my grave. for me, and now I have to lie in it. I don't know how to tell my team about this. I don't even know if NV or KW are alive at this point. I just hope that the rest of them are able to get the fuck out of here while they can, especially if that guard was telling the truth. It would probably be my last update. I don't trust myself to be around other people,

and I don't know when or if I'm going to lose myself to this. There's no telling if I'll be the same thing. person a month from now, a week from now, or even tomorrow. I just don't know. That's why I'm stepping away from the investigation as of writing this. My best interest. And trying to fight this thing isn't one of those things anymore. As part of my way to say goodbye, I'll be leaving an attachment to documents I've exchanged

with J.G. Whether or not you choose to use them is up to you. That's when I'm stepping away from the investigation as of writing this. I'm so sorry, but I have to do this. I have to do what's in my best interest. And trying to fight this thing isn't one of those things anymore. As part of my way to say goodbye, I'll be leaving an attachment to the documents of exchange with JG.

Whether or not you choose to use them is up to you. It's for me anymore. To whoever may be listening to this, it's over. There's no going back for us as a society. We've gone too far, and there's nothing we can do to stop the virus. If you're one of the lucky ones, run. Run as fast as you can and avoid the affected while you can. It's up to you to decide whether or now we're a species worth fighting for.

The power's in your hands now. Give us all. As your bonus story, creepy presents. training methods, written by bent thoughts, and narrated by Danielle Hewitt. I wrapped my jacket a little tighter around me as a November breeze whipped by. It was a little colder than what I'd expect for Florida, but it was perfect weather for walking my husky. I was still learning what living here would actually be like. I had just moved into a small trailer park with my dog. It was a remote and somewhat run-down area, but

It was all I could afford with my single, barely above minimum wage income. When my boyfriend had broken up with me so he could find himself, which seemed to mean date the hot waitress from our favorite restaurant, I had dreamed of also finding myself by restarting my life and moving to the beach. But when I'd found out what I could afford, I realized that dream would involve more steps, like getting a job other than working for a remote overnight call center. So far, finding myself has meant eating a lot of ramen and feeling desperately lonely.

I was reflecting for the hundredth time on my plan for getting myself more situated in Florida. Go back to university. Finish my degree so I can get a better job. Get closer to the beach. Somehow have time for a social life. Somehow create a social life. When my thoughts were interrupted by Lupin, lunging forward. I immediately snapped into the present and instinctively,

tightened my grip on the leash. Lupin loved chasing anything that seemed fun, which usually meant small creatures he wanted to eat. This time, though, I saw that Lupin was agitated because he had seen a couple kids. Children and their chaotic way of yelling and running made him a nightmare to wrangle back into focus. I gave him very little of the lead to walk with

and warily eyed children. Rather than running around or playing, the children were both very still, sitting on the porch of a house we were walking past. They were sitting in chairs turned toward the house, so I couldn't see their faces. There looked to be a boy and a girl, though, without seeing their faces, I couldn't be sure. I tried to avoid staring at the children, but I was confused by their behavior. While they weren't doing anything wrong, in fact, they weren't really doing anything at all. The scene was unnerving.

All of a sudden, I lurched forward again as Lupin bounded toward a squirrel on the road. As I was jerked in the direction of the rodent, I stumbled forward, caught off guard by my dog's sudden momentum. After tripping a few steps forward, I leaned back, tugging the leash to counterbalance myself. Lupin, seeing he wasn't going to catch the squirrel that was already up a tree, slowed his gate. After taking a few deep breaths to slow my rapidly beating heart, I had an idea. I was lonely here, and I hadn't made any friends yet. I was pretty wary of meeting any Florida man types. And my trailer park seemed like the kind of place I'd meet them.

But children, even ones with odd behavior, were disarming. Maybe I could meet their parents. Maybe they'd like to play with Lupin. White-knuckling Lupin's, leash, I tentatively made my way back toward the house with the kids. The children still didn't move when I walked up the driveway. There was a minivan parked by me, and I saw that there was a stick figure family drawing on the back window. There was a taller female figure, a taller male figure, and two smaller figures that seemed to depict a boy and a girl. What I assumed was the figure

of the father and the figures of the children were all made to seem backwards. Their faces have been filled in with varying lengths of shaded hair in what looked like permanent marker. The only sticker that looked like it was facing forward was the taller female, whom I assumed was the mother. Her hair was parted down the middle. I felt a little uncomfortable and I looked toward the children, who had tilted their heads slightly to the side as if listening. As I stood, hesitating at the foot of the driveway, I heard a door open. I looked up to see a woman with shoulder-length red hair. It was pulled away from her face with her face with the foot of the driveway. white headband. She wore a yellow dress that was buttoned up to her neck, ending in a crisp white

collar. She glanced at me, and then quickly touched the arms of her children. They rose in unison and shuffled past her into the house. Can I help you? The woman asked in a curt tone. She blinked quickly several times after finishing her sentence. Lupin barked sharply as the woman spoke, and I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. Oh, No, I... I just wanted to say hi. I'm new in the neighborhood. Lupin began tugging at the leash and whining. The woman looked with mounting annoyance at Lupin. He's not well-behaved. Your dog.

Feeling insecure, I replied... Sorry, yeah, Lupin is a little jumpy sometimes. Blinking a little too quickly again, her face assumed an overly cheery and wide smile. There are always methods to help with training. she said quickly glancing over her shoulder through her still cracked front door and then back at me she added would you like to come in i felt conflicted i was pretty desperate for any kind of connection i was also feeling more uncomfortable by the moment still it felt silly to have this opportunity and not embrace it um sure that would be great lupin um my dog would probably love to play

with your kids, too. An almost imperceptible look flashed across her face. What was that? Annoyance? Anger? But as quickly as her countenance had flickered, the cheery disposition was back. She said, I'm sorry, we aren't really a dog family. They're just so loud and messy. Of course I could respect this, but I wasn't sure what to do about Lupin. Oh, of course, no worries. I'm just not sure where to put in my guess. She twitched her head slightly to the side. You could tie him to that tree in the front yard. I looked down at Lupin, who was straining against his harness and starting to bark loudly.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself how lonely I'd been, and how all of this was probably more normal than my nerves were making it seem. Sure, that should be fine for a bit, I said. I tied Lupin's leash around the tree the woman had indicated. He barked his displeasure and tried jumping through. forward. I pet his head and whispered, just a few minutes, buddy. As I walked into the house, I noticed the woman looking at Lupin with disgust on her face. Again, my discomfort grew. The house was dimly lit. Curtains were pulled tightly over the windows and no lights appeared to be on.

The woman led me quickly through the kitchen, towards the living room, and gestured to a small couch in front of a coffee table. I sat down and said, Thanks for having me over. I'm a little lonely, I guess, right now with being so new. With her unchanging and disturbing smile, she asked, Would you like a cup of coffee? A little nervously, I replied, I probably won't be here long. My dog is sort of freaking out, and I should really get him home.

Although nothing was overly threatening. I still felt creeped out by this woman in her big smile and her very silent children that only faced away from me. The woman blinked furiously and her head twitched again to the side like it had earlier when I asked what to do with Lupin. Oh, it's just one cup. It would be rude of me not to give you a cup of coffee.

I swallowed hard and said, I mean, just one cup is fine, thank you. With lips stretch far too wide across her face, the woman replied, Oh, perfect. I'll be right back. She hurried back into the kitchen and left me alone. I took that time to look around the dark house. On the mantle directly in front of me there was a large portrait. She was in it, and so was a man along with who I assumed were her two children I'd seen outside.

Her face had that wide, unnerving grin. But the faces of the children and the man were furiously covered over, to make it appear like their faces were the back of their heads covered in hair. It looked like the stick figure drawing on the van. I felt a pit in my stomach. I slowly looked around the room, different photos were hung around the walls. If the children or the man were in any of them, they were given the same treatment. All of their faces were scribbled over.

I realized uncomfortably that the woman had been gone for what seemed like too long for getting a coffee. I resolved I needed to leave. Um, you know what? I'm not feeling super well and I really want to get Lupin' home. I'll need a rain check on the coffee. I got up quickly, not wanting to wait on her reply. As I turned to leave the room, I accidentally ran into someone who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Oh, I'm sorry. I stopped talking when I looked down.

Although the house was dark, I could see the face of the little girl I'd run into. The girl's eyelids were pulled down over her eyes and sewn delicately into her eyeballs. Her lips had been sewn shut. I screamed and jumped back. When I did this, I slammed into another person. Turning around, I saw the little boy whose face had the same sutures. The woman walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, she said. Children can be so loud and so disobedient.

To be honest, so can husbands. blinking quickly, she looked over her shoulder back toward the kitchen. Children can learn to silence, and they can be trained into obedience. But husbands? Well, you know what they say. You can't teach an old dog new tricks. My eyes widened and I looked in the direction she had turned her head. I had walked so quickly through the kitchen initially that I hadn't noticed anything around me.

This time... I saw in the far corner of the kitchen. There sat an unmoving figure holding a newspaper up to its face. Only it wasn't holding the newspaper on its own. Two large nails protruded from its lifeless hands. I could only see one of the man's eyes where the corner of the newspaper was falling down a bit. There were stitches piercing the lid. Letting out another scream, I ran for the door I'd come in through.

Even though it meant running past the woman's husband, who I assumed was dead. With her wide grin plastered on her face, the woman reached out and grasped my wrist with surprising strength. It's just a cup of coffee, dear, she said. If this is still about your dog, I already told you there are ways to train him. You don't need to worry about it anymore. I felt my throat tighten, as I realized I hadn't heard Lupin bark for a bit. I managed to say, What did you do?

Without waiting for an answer, I ripped my hand away and ran out the front door. I couldn't even scream when I first saw him. Lupin lay in a pool of blood at the tree he was tied to. His paws were a ripped up, bloody mess, as they had been nailed to the ground and he'd attempted to pull himself free.

His muzzle had a large stake driven through it. When I managed to find my voice, I couldn't stop screaming in between shuddering sobs. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see the woman standing behind me. This isn't polite behavior for a guest. She opened her mouth in a sickening smile and held up a sewing kit. For more information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast, please visit creepypod.com. If you'd like to submit a story for consideration or recommend a story,

please see our submission page at creepypod.com slash submissions. All stories told on this podcast are done so through creative comments, share-alike licensing, or with written consent from the authors, no portion of this podcast may be rebroadcast or otherwise distributed without the express written consent of the creepy podcast production team and the story's author.