1. Discovering Demon Dust,
A week before it happened...
Dr.Jude had been searching for a cure...instead he found a new diease. The man was slouched, his hand protecting his face from the current storm. Beads of sweat darting from the mop of mahogonay that lay atop his reddend head, he couldnt have been more than thirty, twenty-five. His determind expression weakening into a confused scowl. He was lost. In a desert. This was not one of his best scavanges in the world. He blinked the sand out of his eyes, the harsh wind was not helping his situation. Despite the hope melting warmth of the orange sun, he found himself shiver as the sharp grains gnawd at his bare arms. He wore knee length shorts and a dark vest ,a thin blue shirt tied around his waist. Sand poured through his sandles, he struggled to keep in a straight line. He dragged his backpack full of science equipment towards his chest, reaching for protection as he craned his neck to hide behind the fashiond material. The weight of his feet under him paralizing, the defaning gush of gale seeming to lose all sense of direction. He had to get back to the town. He misses a step, his right foot skidding causing his knee to imprint the sesame diamonds into his skin. He stiffles a scream as a dull ach finds its way to his spine. He ducks his head, his regtangular specticales sliding under his chin. He could only make out the distant shape of pyraminds, the browns of the dessert and the blue of the sky blurring into a collage of impossible light. He closes his eyes.
When he opens them the sandstorm has muted into a calm breeze, refreshing to his unseeing gaze. His shaky hand finds its way up to his face, lifting his glasses to their original home above his nose. He exhales. Silence, no-one was to be seen. He finally reaches to rumage in his backback for some water. He doesnt make it that far. A dusty cloud of coal coloured gas seems to rise from beneath the many layers of sand. It appears paranormal against the white suns reflection, then it evapourates into a million little black grains, causing his breath to catch. It seemed to surround him. He waits, preparing for another burst of new discovery, waiting to see what would happen next. Nothing does. He blows it. When a gust of charcol arises from the heap, he closes his eyes turning away. He returns his gaze. He then presses his index finger gently into the dust expecting it to be just as hot as the sand burning the knees that he kneeled on. It was as cold as newly formed ice. He shivers, and begins to move his finger in a circle. He examins his now inky tip. He backs away still on his knees. That was where it started.
The air suddenly tightend as the light gale lifted the forming black grains. He graspes at his throught as if he could tare open a second airway. The dust rises, clotting his vision, it reaches his eyes. Grey air rests on the white of his pupils. The burning of the blackness as he obsessivly blinks, attempting to force the danger away. Suddenly the constant switch of white and black stop. Darkness yet the burning had stopped. He feels his eyelids flutter open, his hands pressed against them. He had them open, he just couldnt see through them. Then something rare happens. He no longer feels like the scared yet curious man he was brought up to be. No longer feels the reassuring warmth of his heartbeat through his veins with adrenaline. He feels deadly calm. More angry than scared, he couldnt even place his own thoughts. And for a moment he didnt even care where he was. In the middle of nowhere. That was until he somehow seemed to recognise his surroundings even though he couldnt see them. The warmth of the sun reflecting off his skin, the fresh aroma of nature, the feel on his feet against the rubber of his open-toed shoes. He grins. He felt alive for the first time, even though a constant voice seemed to be telling him that he was dead.