My fingers grip the steering wheel of my car as I slowly creep through the packed shopping center parking lot. My knuckles practically glow white as I squeeze the supple plastic in front of me, the grip only easing as I wipe the sweat from my brow before it can drip into my eyes.
The world is a constant mild haze, my head swimming and my vision waning as I crawl the car ahead towards an empty space. My breath is ragged, each gasp leaving my throat raspy and sore as my mouth fills with the strange taste of iron and fat. Every inch of my body seems to shiver and twitch, from my bones to my muscles and even my skin I feel completely off and downright drained.
Pulling into the parking lot I spot a tiny young woman standing by the doors ahead of me, the diminutive minimum wage employee wearing a long set of rubber gloves and a mask beneath a cumbersome plastic face shield. In her shaking hands she holds a large paper bag, the two boxes inside bouncing against one another as she struggles to fight back her nerves.
As my car rolls to a stop the tony blonde races towards my car, sweat forming on her tanned forehead as she sprints past my door before opening the one to the back seat. In one swift motion she practically flings the package into the back seat, her voice quivering weakly as she goes to slam the door shut.
"Your order sir, one Gender-Flu test and one for vari..."
The Gender Flu was not something that was naturally occurring, the first Man-Made illness being almost ironically one that could target manhood itself.
It had started as an otherwise rather novel concept. With the constant need for flu shots each year questions had come about as to whether new technologies could improve the time people were feelings poorly or even reduce the risk of any adverse effects people may suffer from the inoculation itself. The decision had been made to attempt to use a mixture of technologies, CRISPR and mRNA vaccines to attempt to temporarily give the patient a new genetic sequence to improve regeneration.
Frogs had been chosen to be the donor of this DNA fragment, with tadpoles and even adolescent frogs having remarkable regenerative capabilities. Even in the tests of rats and mice they had found the rates of harm drastically reducing and the tell-tale flu-like symptoms being otherwise non-existent. It had been once things went to human testing that the genie was let of the bottle.
Within a matter of days the first case of what would be known as Gender-Flu came to be, a woman in her early twenties finding herself waking up in a terrible fever and with the start of what looked to be a micro penis between her legs. The trial vaccine had certainly made her immune to the flu, however, it had also played havoc with her DNA with the tail of her X chromosome begin removed in a freak mutation of the modified virus used in the shot.
This would have otherwise had a negligible effect had it not been for the intense regeneration factor, the altered cells rapidly producing an immense viral load inside the body to change more DNA while also simply overwhelming those that refused to be changed.
It had only taken a day or two for the short young redhead to turn into a rather plain and lanky young man, the virus quickly running its course but not before passing itself on.
While lockdowns had slowed the spread, the disease itself had refused to be eradicated. As it spread new variants soon began to crop up around the world, with tests soon following to help identify these rarer strains.
First came the 'National' variant, one more closely tied to particular countries or population centers. As the virus moved between people it almost seemed to learn what to alter and change inside those it infected, though it may have simply just picked up trace amounts of the DNA from those it had come from. Regardless, the National variant changed not only the gender but also the race of the infected based on the geographic area the variant had originated from.
Second came the 'Progression' variant. In the hectic and rather destructive process of rebuilding the body wholesale, it was more than possible for the illness to overshoot and tear through the body's limited resources. Between damaging the DNA of the infected and replicating cells hundreds or thousands of times more than necessary, the victim could soon find themselves aging rapidly by upwards of a few decades as their body raced through the years in a matter of hours. Due to the destructive nature of this variant, harsh home confinement was often put into place to hopefully prevent this most harmful version of the Gender-Flu from spreading much further.
Third and finally came the 'Regression' variant. In an extremely rare few incidents the regenerative elements of the lingering vaccine could go into overdrive, the body not just bouncing back faster but also being repaired and a genetic and cellular level. Between old wounds vanishing and telomeres lengthening, most with this variant found themselves left as a young man or woman in their late teens to early twenties. While many avoided the other variants like the plague, there was a market for 'infection' parties for this particular variant, with some offering large sums of money to have a chance to restart their life.
The door slams shut before the young woman can finish her sentence, her tiny figure quickly running past with her arms outstretched in front of her as if merely touching my car had left the gloves coated in whatever I was infected with.
"Thanks..." I croak, rolling my eyes as I undo my seat belt and spin around to look into the back seat. My bones creak and joints pop as I slump halfway between the two sections of my old sedan, a low groan escaping my lips as I ease down onto my elbow before grabbing the package.
Thankfully, testing for the Gender-Flu was remarkably simple. Pulling the two boxes out I grab the slender plastic trays from within, one for the disease itself and another for variants, before fishing around in the boxes for the 'mixing' tube. Hacking up a cough I spit into one of the tube, my dry and foul tasting mouth struggling to make the same deposit into the second without another round of chest rattling coughs. Capping each I shake them weakly, my wrist crackling and cracking painfully as I try to mix the tubes properly.
With a thankful sigh I pour each tube into the collection section of the tray, the lack of a dropper of any other fiddly attachment making me relieved as I clamber into the back seat to have a lay down. Shivering and shaking I slowly move to read the results, my heart skipping a beat as I read...
No comments:
Post a Comment