5 Days of Solitude: DAY 1: AWAKENING

Silence.

It resounds so deeply in this empty ghost of a place.

Where did everyone go?

It is extremely quiet.

The birds are not chirping, the dogs are not barking. This place is but a sad shell of an existence that is devoid of life. All I have as a companion is my trusty mushroom. Even that damn thing hardly makes a sound.

It started with an airborne disease. Scientifically, it was called Rapid Anus Projective Explosion Dysfunction. The general populace simply called it RAPED.

"Hey, Steve. The doctor just told me I got RAPED."

"You've gotten RAPED?!"

Yep. That's how the conversations were when the WHO first announced it reluctantly over a KFC and McD luncheon.

In a nutshell,

Yeah. It's as bad as it looks.

The man in the picture died shortly after an explosion that sent him careening 500 meters onto a busy highway. The rest as they say, is history.

All is not lost, though. There still remain some survivors. A few of them have been, sadly, predicted to be RAPED for the last time today.

That leaves me. I performed scientific tests on myself and have found that my blood is immune to the disease. There was a mutated strain of my eosinophil leukocyte that manages to destroy the infection in my blood.

Who am I?

Are you sure you wanna know?

The story of my life is not for the faint of heart. If somebody said it was a happy little tale... if somebody told you I was just your average ordinary guy, not a care in the world... somebody lied.

Okay, that was from Spider-man.

My name is Dr. Dick Bawls. And this is my story. My 5 days of solitude.