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It’s been two weeks since we’ve escaped the sleep watchers. Ramirez’s concoction worked, waking everyone up and soon enough, the outside of the carts were once again the pitch black void we’ve got accustomed too. Thankfully, the worst thing that the sleep watchers left us with was a feeling of tiredness. Otherwise, most of us were in perfectly fine health. At least, that’s how it looked at the time.
After we evaded the sleep watchers, we couldn’t sleep properly for several days. Everyone was scared about getting caught in another trap, one that might leave us in an inescapable encounter with the creatures of this world. It didn’t help that the black mist that was present when I woke up began following us, always disappearing just as you turned your eyes to it. Sometimes however, you would be able to catch it in the corner of your eye. It never did anything, but at this point, we couldn’t take any chances.
We ended up doubling our watch. Now, four people were awake at all times, paired in groups of two. Most of the times I paired with Marie, one of us being the lookout while the other carefully studied the journal. We would switch places when one of us needed a break. One night, I was standing at the door of the carts while Marie was reading.
“Hey, come back here,” Marie yelled suddenly, scaring me half to death, “I think I found something!”
I rushed back and sat next to her.
“What is it? What did you find?”
“I think this is the thing that kept following us for the last few days.”
“Let me have a look.”
Marie’s finger pointed at the title of the page. Written in black, bold letters, it read “Mistling”. Normally, Ramirez’s entries occupied at the minimum two to three pages, including the drawing. In this case however, the entry was only the drawing and a few phrases.
The drawing showed a small portion of the cart, as if you were looking straight at one of the cart doors. It was a very detailed sketch of a cart, drawn with thick lines, which contrasted with the Mistling, who was drawn with very thin lines, giving it an almost aetherial look.
“The Mistling,” noted Ramirez, “as I’ve decided to name them, is a medium-sized floating black mist that can sometimes be found in the subway. It’s appearance rate is random, given that it can take a few days to a few months between seeing one. What makes them important, at least important enough to note about them, are the following two constants:
Beyond this, neither I nor anyone I have met so far have no clue of what they’re deal is. They don’t seem dangerous, but I’d be a fool if I trusted any creature in this place. However, as far as other “residents” are concerned, the mistling is harmless enough.”
“Well,” she said, “seems we have an unusual fellow on our hands.”
“Right…” I agreed. “And here I thought we had something…”
“It’s still better than nothing.” said Marie, putting her hand on my shoulder. I instinctively put my hand on hers.
“Besides,” she continued , “not considering this thing’s unusual energy, everything else seems to check out. Hopefully, it’s still as harmless as Mr. Ramirez said.”
“You may be right,” I said, “but we’ll still need to keep a watch on whatever this Mistling is.”
“Obviously. After all, someone I know told me” said Marie in a slightly jokey way while poking my arm, ““you can never be too careful.” Quite a few times actually.”
I started blushing a little bit. “Come on now, don’t make fun of me like that!”
“I’m just teasing you is all.” she smiled at me, putting her head on my shoulder, “Besides, I like that careful side of yours. Don’t be ashamed of it.”
I kept silent while still blushing.
“Even still,” she said while yawning and stretching her arms, “I’d take even more of these Mistlings over that green-skin thing any day. That one really gave me the heebie-jeebies. Ugh.”
I paused for a second and I turned my head towards her.
“What green-skin thing?”
“Oh, just one of the previous entries in this thing.” she said, in a half-asleep voice. “Was a disease if i remember correctly.”
“Let me take a look.” I said, taking the journal from her hands.
“Knock yourself out, dear…”
“And you should wake up,” telling her as I nudged her a bit “we can’t go sleep yet!”
“But I’m sitting so comfortable now… Five more minutes, pleaaase…”
“Fiine…” I sighed as I opened the journal, “but you better get up afterwards.”
“Yeey.”
“Now let’s see here… Ah! There it is.”
The entry was titled “Green-Skin Disease.” The drawing was spread across the two pages of the journal, showing what appeared to be an evolution of a sick man. It started with a picture of a shoulder with a deep, bleeding cut across it, noted as “entry point”. That was Stage 0. An arrow pointed to the next picture, Stage 1 written over it. The drawing zoomed out of the shoulder, showing the figure of a normal looking man, scratching his shoulder. The location of the wound had two new scribbles: “green” and “flakey”. The next arrow pointed towards a drawing of the same man, Stage 2. This time however, the man looked sick, having sunken eyes and visible bones. The scribbles pointed towards the man’s skin, reading “greenish skin” and “yellow veins”. After that, the arrow showed the man, barely a skeleton. Stage 3. His skin was noted as “entirely green” with the addition of the word paralyzed next to him. The final arrow pointed to the man, deceased.
I found the imagery disturbing enough, but Ramirez went into detail.
“The Green-skin disease, named after the characteristic shade of green left on the body, is one of the few new bodily afflictions I have encountered as I ventured across the subway. Its deadliness is only matched by its rarity, having had encountered only a few unfortunate souls that suffered from this disease. Ten people I have met, of various age groups and ethnicity, with the only discriminatory factor between them being the age, revealing that the older someone is, the quicker it spreads. Of the ten, only one of them has survived, solely because the group I was in at the time reacted quick enough. All ten of the victims, including the people of the groups some of them were in, have told me what they have been through, providing me with a clear pattern to base my research on. The progression of the disease is as follows:
Infection: For the disease to take place, there needs to be at the very least a tiny amount of Green-Mushrooms present in the area, mature enough to release spores. The Green-Mushrooms look identical to regular mold, making the two indistinguishable. Luckily, the Green-Mushrooms take a while to be mature enough to release spores, dying quickly thereafter. Contributing to its rarity is the fact that the only way for the spores to infect the body is via an open wound in the skin, breathing or ingesting the spores not resulting in an infection. Nevertheless, if a person is unlucky enough to suffer an injury while there are green-spores in the air, the spores will take root on the skin, feeding upon it.
Stage 1: The spores have begun spreading. They have a very slow spreading rate, taking months or even years for it to advance to the next stage. Characteristic of this stage is the steadily growing green patch of skin, even after the closure of the wound. The green skin left by the spores is characterized as slightly itchy, resulting in the sufferer to often scratch themselves, leaving small amounts of green skin flakes that carry spores. This is the only stage where the person infected might still be saved. If you were lucky, the infection began at one of your limbs, making it possible to amputate the infected arm or leg. It is only necessary to amputate from above the infection area downwards, possibly remaining with more of your healthy limb. If you were unlucky and the infection began at a vital area, or you didn’t have the tools or knowledge to amputate it on time, the disease will eventually progress to the stage.
Stage 2: The spores have gotten deep enough to reach your circulatory system. Once it’s in the blood, the spores will travel all throughout the victim’s body, coloring the veins in a sickly yellow and turning the skin to a light green. The person now begins to feel tired and moody, showing signs of fever. They will lose weight despite eating, the energy of the food being sent to the ever-increasing spores inside their body. If there are not enough nutrients for the spores, the disease will begin feeding on the body of the victim. Only after a day or two once stage two has been reached, the victim will enter stage three
Stage 3: This is the final stage of the disease. The spores begin attacking the nervous system, leaving it paralyzed from the neck down, a result of the spores eating the remainder of the victim’s nerves and organs. The last organ to go is the brain, resulting in the death of the victim. This stage only lasts an hour.
I have yet to discover a cure for the Green-Skin Disease. The only sure fire way of escaping is to remove the infected area of the body before it reaches the bloodstream. If it reaches the bloodstream, the kindest thing to do for the victim is to kill them painlessly, before they reach the final stage.”
My skin began to crawl after finishing the last sentence. I couldn’t believe something this insidious could ever exist, but then again, a few months ago I couldn’t believe any of this could possibly be real.
“Hey kid, found anything interesting?”
Matt’s arrival had brought me back to reality.
“Oh, hey Matt, what are you doing here?”
“Your shift’s ended. Me and Nick are taking over, so you and the miss can get some rest, though from the looks of it, she beat me to the punch eh?”
Marie was fully asleep, her head still on my shoulder.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks Matt.” I replied.
“No problem kid… Heh,” Matt chuckled a little bit, “If I think about it, I’ll probably have to stop calling you kid soon.”
“What do you mean?”
Matt began smiling. “John told me of your little plan with the rings.”
“Shhhh, quiet.” I said, as I turned my head to Marie, making sure she was still asleep.
“Don’t worry, I’ve seen that girl. Doubt an earthquake would be able to wake her up.”
“I suppose that’s fair. Marie was always a heavy sleeper.”
“Is that so? Well, better wake her up so she can sleep in a more comfortable place.”
I woke Marie up and began leaving Matt and John to their watches.
“Hey Matt?” I asked, just before I exited the cart.
“What’s up?” he asked as he sat down on one of the chairs.
“How’s the leg?”
“Eh, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“You’re still limping though.”
“Hey, if you were shot in the leg at my age, you’d probably limp too.”
“I suppose that’s fair. Are you sure everything’s alright?”
“Very sure. Go on now, don’t leave the girl waiting. Plus, I have a mighty itch to scratch, so I’d rather you not witness it.”
I left as soon as he said that, not wanting to be part of something I thought it might be quite unsightly. As I made my way to Marie, my mind was lost in thought again, trying to remember everything I read today. Because of that, I tripped on one of those metal poles people used to hold onto when the subway was busy, though now without purpose in this endlessly empty place. What caught my eye however was something I saw when I looked on the floor of the cart.
Small, greenish-looking flakes.
As I felt a sudden cold rushing throughout my body, it only took a few moments to understand what had happened. I knew I had to move quickly, hoping it wasn’t too late.
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