Appears inactive

January 15th, 2019

1:03pm

Director,

Two hours ago (11:03am, January 15th, 2019) Chicago General uploaded a blood sample containing a virus of unknown origin. As of yet, the virus appears to be inactive. The patient has reported no symptoms, and remains unaware of the infection.

No other known cases exist.

Sending the data your way.

Awaiting orders.

January 15th, 2019

2:38pm

Orders: watch and wait. Nothing more.

Anthony left Christy the day she came home wearing her ex’s clothes and smelling like sex. She wasn’t surprised. Truthfully, she was relieved. Until her first months rent was due.

They had moved into the apartment together, and Christy depended on his income to pay the rent.

“That can’t be right,” Christy said. Her phone sat on the kitchen table, speaker crackling at high volume while she searched through a third box of files. “I know his name is on the lease.”

“Listen, you’ve been a good tenant, but it’s the fifteenth already. If you can’t pay by tomorrow—”

“Wait! Just give me a few more days. I get paid on Friday.”

“No. Tomorrow, or move out.”

The line went dead. Twenty four hours to come up with Anthony’s half of the rent. How am I going to get $900 by then?

Christy slumped to her kitchen floor in tears. There was simply no way to get that kind of money in time.

Except. She remembered a joke she shared with a friend of hers. The girl was always dating older men. Never had a job but always had a ton of money. Called herself a "Sugar Baby." Christy jumped to her feet and ran to her bedroom. She flipped her laptop open and searched the term.

An hour later, she realized being a Sugar Baby wouldn't get her $900 in time. It required too much dating, too much set up. She needed something quicker. A little more crude.

A few hours later, she had found a couple websites, and, following the countless examples, took a few pictures and posted an ad. Am I really going to prostitute myself?

Christy looked at all of her stuff. Couch, TV, books, bed. Clothes. Space. Independence. She couldn't give that up.

Her phone dinged from the kitchen.

[555-1865: saw ur ad. how much?]

Christy's fingers shook. It took her several minutes to type the short response.

[Christy: $900]

[555-1865: for an hour? ur fucking joking. right?]

[Christy: for the night]

[555-1865: I dont want a night. just an hour. tell you waht. $400. but i get anal]

Christy had tried anal a few times, it wasn't bad if there was a lot of lube and patience. She could provide the lube, but she didn't think this guy would show her any patience.

[Christy: no anal]

Fifteen minutes passed with no response. And no other calls or messages either. Desperation **** her hand.

[Christy: fine. $400. 1 hour. anal. ok?]

[555-1865: when will u be ready?]

[Christy: 2 hours]

She gave him the address to the cheapest motel she could find. Then she jumped in the shower to shave her legs and pussy. She washed her hair and put on some light makeup. She was so nervous she dropped her toothbrush into the sink twice. She put thigh-high black stockings on and a matching garter belt. She finished off the outfit with black heels and a black cocktail dress.

The man that checked her in seemed to know exactly why she was there. Christy felt her cheeks burn when he handed her the keys.

Christy had arrived fifteen minutes early. She took the time to lay out a few condoms, then ran to puke into the toilet, she was so nervous. She rinsed her mouth out and popped a piece of minty gum into her mouth. She paced and paced, and then. A knock.