ARE YOU PREPARED?
(Here, an image of a cartoon cat wearing a gas mask is depicted.)
IF YOU'RE NOT, MR. FELIX WILL HELP YOU!
#1: WHAT SHOULD WE BE PREPARING FOR?
XNT-01 is what seems to be a biological weapon deployed by forces of terrorism. From our research so far, we have gathered that it destroys anything organic- that is, wood, animals, and you!
It can be carried by anything- the air, the water, and sometimes even the soil.
#2: HOW DO WE PREPARE OURSELVES?
Make sure you have a secure room in the house stocked with emergency rations and any tools you may need. Don't bring a gun- they're dangerous, and shooting XNT-01 isn't going to stop it! We recommend stocking at least:
60 days' worth of non-perishable foods (cans, jerky, etc.)
90 days' worth of water
1 flashlight
1 wrench
1 hammer
1 screwdriver
1 crowbar
1 box of iron nails
1 box of iron screws
3 gas masks
1 box of replacement filters for the gas mask (or 30 individual filters)
1 radio capable of receiving FM broadcasts
1 chessboard (or a similar board game)
1 pack of playing cards
a small quantity of books
#3: IS THAT IT?
No sir! You need to fortify your secure room so that nothing can get in. First, buy sufficient amounts of epoxy, and cover any hole you find in the room. Do not cover the space under or over the door. If the room has a window, cover any gaps between the window and the wall but don't cover the window itself. Second, buy a MiraClean® air filter and install it under the door. Cover all remaining gaps between the door and the wall.
#4: WHAT DO I DO WHEN I RUN OUT OF SUPPLIES?
Don't worry! We'll have XNT-01 contained before that. We guarantee it. Even now, we're successfully containing the spread in multiple locations!
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
(Here, an image of a smiling man wearing a hazmat suit with the hood pulled down is shown.)
As long as you act according to this pamphlet, you and your family will be perfectly safe until all infected areas have been quarantined.
STAY SAFE!
AND DON'T FORGET, STAY POSITIVE!
The U.S. Government
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The man dropped the faded paper to the ground.
"What a load of bullshit. It's been 13 years, and the only reason the spread has stopped is because the Scourge has run out of shit to eat."
He smirked, and put a cigar to his lips. It was unbranded, and seemed to be home-rolled. He flicked open a metal lighter, and lighted the cigar.
He exhaled a cloud of smoke.
His face was worn, with lines that made him look older than he was. It looked more like leather than human skin, and his eyes glinted with what some would take to be a hint of madness. Although he didn't wear a beard, there was evident stubble on both his lip and chin.
He wore a leather coat with many pockets and pouches placed in unlikely places. On his head was a hat that looked much like a fedora, but with a wider brim.
The man finished his cigar, and dropped it to the ground. He turned around, and started walking towards a motorcycle stood up against the delapidated remains of a wall. As he moved to get on it, a growl caused him to turn around.
As he scanned the area, the source of the growling became apparent.
It was what once was a dog- but its new form could only be described as horrifying.
The Scourge is a type of nanomachine that consumes organic matter. It runs on the consumed matter, but when it has more matter than is needed it begins to replicate. It first breaks down the material into its basic components, and carefully reassembles them into an imitation of its own form. In this way, the Scourge is able to spread at a remarkably quick speed, provided there are ample supplies of matter.
But occasionally, the Scourge decides that it would be better to simply take over a host and use it to gain access to more matter. As a nanomachine, the Scourge is incapable of moving on its own- it relies on the movements of the wind and water for propulsion. However, when a host is found, the nanomachines become capable of independent movement.
The process of takeover is deceptively simple. After consuming part of the host's flesh, instead of using it for replication it is used to "enhance" other parts of the host. This results in increased muscle mass, but loss of higher cognitive functions. This process also results in the growth of unsightly tumours on the skin of the host.
This particular dog was practically nothing but tumors. Its fur was filthy and matted with blood and grime, and most of its head was missing, replaced with dark growths mushrooming out of its cranium. One of its eyes was missing, while the other was just barely still in its socket.
It continued growling as it cautiously crawled towards the man. His left hand slowly made its way under his coat, while his right hand was held out, far from his body, as a distraction.
"Here, doggy, here."
He crooned as he slowly waved his right arm in a hypnotic circle. The dog's only eye tracked the motion, while it continued to growl.
When it crouched as though preparing to jump, the man whipped out his left hand from under his coat and fired a gun.
It was a long-barrelled silver revolver, with a black polymer grip. It was completely unremarkable in every regard except for a small inscription etched on the barrel.
'G. L. S. 52'
The bullet left the gun, expanding in size due to its hollow point. It flew straight and true, and entered the dog's eye socket, destroyed the mass that was once its brain, and exited the dog's skull to land on the ground behind it. The once-drab ground around around the dog was colored a dark red, due to the fluids spurting from its head.
The dog's semi-intact jaw quivered for a moment, as though trying to bark one last time, and collapsed.
The man blew on the end of the still-smoking gun, and stuck it back in its holster. He walked over to the motorcycle and sat down on the seat, gripping the handlebars.
"I hate killing dogs. They're so much nicer than humans, and in this fucked-up new world, smarter, too. Well, guess that one wasn't."
And with that last remark, directed at the corpse of the dog, the man revved up the motorcycle and left, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.