Arapocolypse (Part I)

“What's taking you so long, boy,” my father asked, “do you think fire just appears? Get me those logs!” I handed him the firewood, and he accepted them with a grunt.

My name is of no importance. Me and my father have been living out here in the mountains for a few weeks, and I say we've done quite a good job of it. My father's always been fond of the outdoors having grown up in rural Alaska, and I guess it just runs in the blood. The other day we finally built a rudimentary cabin, and thank God for that; it's been a dry, bitter winter and I'll take almost any warmth.

You may be asking what the hell two guys are wasting their time in the mountains for; I'll tell you. The Japanese have been messing around with bio-engineering trying to help bring back some youth to their ageing population, why they didn't just bring some Filipinos in is anyone's guess. They tried to create a “positive virus,” one that made you better instead of sick. Specifically, they tried to increase the birthrate by creating a virus that dramatically increased fertility and sex-drive.

Things don't go well for those who try to “play God,” so to speak. The virus had some... strange side effects to say the least. It certainly did what it was billed to, and didn't exactly hurt anybody (at least directly,) but it made changes nobody was prepared for. It somehow became unleashed on the word and quickly spread, despite requiring physical contact with an infected person.

The effects have given it the nickname “Succubus disease.” those who succumb to its full effects are what my cousin would call “fucking hot MILFs,” but he was never exactly eloquent; I still find the description fitting. The infected can carry the disease for weeks without symptoms while still being contagious, and complete transformation happens in mere minutes. It was seen as a good thing, especially by my cousin, until the disease spread to males. He was the first male in North America to become affected, and from there everything went to shit. That was when me and my father took to the mountains for refuge.

“Do you want me to get the venison” I asked him. He wasn't kind to idle hands, and I figure that it's best to keep myself busy now that most of the world's education systems collapsed and we're miles away from anywhere with electricity.

“Eh, not right now. The winter's been rough and I want to make this stuff last.” He placed a few of the logs carefully down on a patch of dirt. “Why don't you bring that Maddie girl over? I'm sure she'll be impressed with what we've done. She might even thank you for letting her lay by it, eh?” Father nudged me and laughed. I know exactly what he thinks we'll do, and I don't want to. I would rather be infected by a MILF than be near Maddie, but I suppose I'll bring her here anyway.

Maddie is an abysmal failure of a human being. She has the body of a nine-year-old, the maturity of a six-year-old, the intelligence of a newt that had its brains smashed with a rock, the voice of a creaking door, and the sense of humour of a lobotomized Seth MacFarlane. Father thinks we'll make a good match, and “repopulate” the “normal” human population, but I cannot imagine the pure horror that would be her spawn.