Sincerely, Jennifer x

17th January 2065

I am committed to this work. It will change the world, and my life. There are lives that will be saved, and yet… today, I am beginning to question everything. 

I think that they are in pain. Such deep, anguish and agony. I knew that there could be some discomfort, but nothing like this. 

The influenza group is hard to look at. They’ve taken to scratching at the door, whining and wailing as their nails bleed, but of course, they always fix themselves up quickly, and then begin again. 

They beg, and they plead for more. I know what they want more of, and I can’t give it to them. 

The pain isn’t so much physical, because they heal quicker than they can hurt themselves, but it’s somewhere deep inside. 

They yearn for the sickness. They want more. Slaves to the serum, they can do nothing but long for something I cannot allow them to have. 

Everything that they were is gone. It is all that they think about. It is all that they can do. 

I can see my pain pouring into them, and I wonder what they could do to the world outside of my laboratory, or even what they could do to me. 

They are incensed, you see. They have little moments, barely seconds where they can see clearly, and as they approach the window of the lab, they can see who made them this way. 

They blame me for what they have become, and I’m beginning to see that they have a point. 

What if it never works? 

We have taken so many detours, and accepted so many sidetracks, but some days, I wonder if we are actually close, or if I just need to believe that we are to justify the hole I have been digging for months. 

What if I can’t figure this out? What do I do then? I’m beginning to see it replicated in the other groups too. The smallpox group have stopped eating and sleeping. The cancer group are wide awake too, showing improvement in terms of health, but the telltale signs of slipping into something terrible. 

What have I done? 

I have created these… things. 

They used to have friends, parents, jobs… Christ, some of them had kids, and now, they are barely recognisable. 

They yearn for more sickness. 

Covered in sores and bites, from themselves or each other, I just don’t know anymore. 

All they think about is the serum, and the syringes. 

It’s something in the serum, I’m sure of it. It hungers for more to fight. 

The influenza and smallpox groups seem able to take on anything, and the cancer group are catching up. 

The results from today’s doses have been phenomenal. 

I should be thrilled. The serum works! I am on the road to curing everything, and yet, I can’t enjoy it, because I can just feel that something is wrong. 

I am doing something wrong, but I can’t stop, because there is a timebomb in my head. 

It will be alright. 

It has to be alright. 

This is just a wobble. I’m just spooked after the inspector’s visit. The ends will justify the means. Once I’ve figured this all out, I can cure them. It will be alright.