Lorsh
Varlot
EARLY OCTOBER
LESTON, LASBOR, CR.
The time on the clock reads 7:04 PM.
You're holed up in your eighth floor apartment room. Things are starting to look a little chaotic down on the streets, and one of the buildings across from you is on fire.
A mysterious pathogen has swept across the city. A state of emergency has been declared, and various health warnings have gone out.
The symptoms weren't anything peculiar at first...Until people seemed to start losing their minds. In mindless attempts to seek help, some of those afflicted with the sickness have started wandering in front of traffic, in addition to not heeding the presence of people whom they could potentially spread the sickness too.
Yesterday wasn't so bad. People weren't acting so vicious-- just confused and sickly. But today, looting started to peak-- at least that's the explanation that the television gave for the skyrocketing level of violent acts being committed.
Somebody from the National Health Institute dropped off a leaflet and disposable face mask at your apartment yesterday.
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