Time: 9:00 p.m.
Location: Stunus [a small city on the outskirts of Aqmat]

The signs were obvious, although few.

How could they not see it?

Feel it, hear it, taste it?

The bottle lapped around the baby’s closed lips. The texture of the soft rubber across her smooth, soft skin made her coo. Her wet lips opened, searching for the rubber nipple. When she found it, her breath touched the nipple and the warm milk slowly drained from the bottle. The quiet sucking sounds echoed the mother’s humming.

A lullaby.

A soft, sweet lullaby and the bottle was empty.

The baby’s eyes closed; a gentle hand swept across the baby’s body, pulling down the pink shirt she wore to cover her plump and well-fed belly.

Soon, her eyes were shut; she was sleeping.

The rocking chair continued to creak softly against the mother’s weight and the baby’s short, black locks of hair tickled the mother’s arm.

How could they be so naive?

So misunderstanding?

So vulnerable?

Minutes passed, the woman got up, and placed her baby inside the crib. A careful tucking and the woman kissed her precious love. Her fingers searched for the on switch of the soft playing nursery rhyme music.

She found it and instantly, a wonderland of music flooded her ears.

Incredible, just incredible.

Things could never be the same.

Never be the same.

The mother walked out of the room, never to see the eyes of her child open again.

Never the same ...

this sounds good so far atleast it's not scary like the other intro lol but update this wiferz

~tesha~

this seems really good.
I wonder why she won't get to see
her baby open his eyes anymore.
Is she leaving?
I can't wait to find out.

thanks guys.



I actually wrote the next two chapters to this story and I might update it later today when I read it over a few times and edit it here and there.

=)

WOW. Did that baby just die in her mothers arms.
mAn ! this is.. well written, so easy to friggin read, but back to the baby.
DID SHE DIE, if so i would understand that why she fell asleep, and why the mother isnt'
going to see her eyes open anymore. That would be s0o fucked up.
But To the STORY over all
[ moves arms in a cicular motion ]
It's kinda written in a poem form, to me.. atleast
BUT i like that, good despriction and shit, i was feeling like a baby just now, lmao.
but chea like i said before well writeen and what not, so i'm liking this obviously ! =]

so get this update going ms. brit [brit]

<< this is hot.. lol

*JAZZiE!

nooooooooo omg that baby just not die...
i feel srry for that mother..
keep it cummin i like it

THE INTRO IS HOTT AND THIS STORY SOUNDS DIFFERENT. I WANNA KNOW WHY HER BABY DIED, THAT'S SO SAD. I WANNA KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON. OH YOU HAVE TO UPDATE SOON

---

Four months later.
On the other side of the world.

Oxus Gennan.

That’s what it was.

That’s what made them so vulnerable, so weak, so demanding.

They needed it, they craved it, they hungered for it, they would even KILL for it.

"Please! One at a time, people! You’re all going to get your shots!"

"Get out of my way!"

"Hey! I was here first!"

"Shut up!"

"Help! Someone, please help!"

Cries gone unanswered.

The young woman could only do so much. In front of her were five syringe needles. She counted them to be sure.

Yep, there was only five.

"Everyone, please, one at a time, don’t push!" Order became the issue.

She couldn’t control the masses, couldn’t control their violent, abusive behavior.

She already witnessed so much, too much.

The red cross on the van created a mob of people rushing towards them, crying bloody murder.

She saw the fear in their eyes, the need, the desperation, the LOST.

"Please! My baby, he’s sick! Please, help me!"

A smack and two punches later and the poor woman was sprawled on the ground.

No blood.

The man stepped over the woman’s body, making his way to the front.

Elist made sure to pass him over. She grabbed a small plastic bag, grabbed a syringe needle, and threw it into the wave if heads, hands, and dirtied faces.

Eyes closed.

She heard it.

The tearing, screaming, crying, rustling.

She could only picture the scene before her. Men pushing women, women pushing children, children being trampled. She smelt the stench of venom in the air, heard the curse words erupting from thirsty mouths.

Groans echoed in the air.

She heard everything.

Her eyes opened and she fumbled with the next set.

Her hands shakily clenched the plastic bag, squeezed a syringe needle in her hand.

Her nerves were taking control of her body.

Salty tears formed. Sweat formed on her brow. Her tongue ran dry.

She felt exhausted and the sun blaring down on her didn’t help the feeling.

The red liquid inside the needle swished and swayed back and forth inside the small tube.

3 ml exact.

It was all that she could offer them. It was enough to get the job down, for a while.

The needle slid to the bottom of the bag and she swung the gift in the air.

It soared over outstretched hands; the pool of death ran towards it.

Another fight.

This time, there was blood.

Elist saw it; she could even smell it in the toxic air through her face mask.

She wheezed, coughed, and sprung her head out the window. Her fingers ripped the mask from her face and from her mouth, thick, red blood poured. Immediately, her hand shot to her lips, and she trembled. Her energy was drained, leaking from her mouth and onto her hands.

More tears.

The crowd that was gathered around the van quickly stepped away, frightened.

Gasps sprang from lips, shock and awe over everyone’s contorted faces.

She was infected.