Acidic Waters

Influenza

(This story is edited!:D)

I am the senorita Influenza, a strong and independent woman in the kingdom. The war on Earth has just ended, meaning that my main source of entertainment is no more. My eldest sister, Cholera, took action almost immediately, caressing the skin of so many humans with her frozen fingertips, and taking their oxygen as payment for her visit. I must admit, watching those dying bodies grow colder and the capacity of their lungs wither away was a gorgeous sight, but their demise came so quickly thateach casualty could only capture my interest for so long. Of course, Cholera is satisfied, for she is a simple-minded lady, but I hunger for more. Seeing the movement of their chests slow and the way that eyes would cave in on themselves isn't enough. The waves of panic that flushed between each weak breath could only contain my desire for so long. I want to watch humanity continue to live for days in end, fully aware of the way in which their bodies were slowly dying. I want their skin to burn and vision to grow foggy, but I need them to be awake enough to visualize the pain that they couldn't see. They had to be able to picture their skin bubbling up, slick with a coat of sweat and pus, and envision their lungs shriveling up as I set them ablaze, turning them into two elegant statues of charcoal and ash. I want them to experience me, rather than understand what I am. It is more fun to see the solemn nature of their expressions increase as the severity of their situation dawn on them more and more at the sight of each sunset. There is way no way for them to escape my grasp.    
And so, with the magnificent thought of death cradling all of humanity in his arms I set out of Earth. I start my mission out small, blowing fiery kisses at the already weak Russian armies. My experience has taught me that it is better to begin with a tease, to let word sweep through the crowds and cause worry among the people. Then, I shall strike. I settle on the idea ofsailing with the U.S. citizens back to their homes with a boquet of hope fresh in their hearts. The boat would be perfect for preventing their escape, and there is the added bonus of crushing their dreams. I hunt down the children, drinking up the concern present in their mothers' hearts as I go; the sound of their ragged breaths and tiny coughs almost an intoxicating as their parents' tears. The fear in their eyes was more invigorating than any bloodbath of a war could ever be, but I still thirst for more. Next came the mothers, easy targets due to their current state. I enveloped them in a massive hug, individually comforting them with my warmth. They were fragile, however, and my warmth grew hot in almost no time. I paced around their shaking cots, peeling away the bright red sheets of flesh whenever I pleased, which was quite often. Alas, they had died, entering the afterlife as mete shells of what they once were, all thanks to me. My disease soon spread among the crew, and then throughout the cities. That ought to keep me occupied, and Cholera jealous, at least until those pathetic mortals' lives all came to a cease.