Pandemic no hoax, eating away at USD student body
Victor Krum
If you’re reading this, you’re alive – congratulations. I’ve been locked in the same room for three days, trying to survive and trying to make sense of it all. I can only give you my account of what happened, but I’m sure you have your own story to tell—we all do.
It was a Monday morning like any other. I was sitting in Aromas pretending to be working on my screenplay, but in actuality I had just found the screenplay for “Juno” on the Internet and was attempting to pass it off as my own work in order to try and fit in with the pseudo-intellectual indie crowd. After several failed attempts to start meaningful conversations with the line “Honest to blog,” I realized that I needed more caffeine to sustain the level of energy it takes to talk about movies that you don’t understand.
When I approached the counter, the barista asked what I’d like to order. “I’ll take a Torero Mocha,” I said.
“What’s a Torero Mocha?” she responded.
“Um. It’s a mocha coffee drink. It’s quite delicious. You’ve never had one?” I asked.
“Oh, you mean the Milkyway Mocha?”
I heard a voice to my right. “Hey, man. Didn’t you know? They serve Ryan Bros. coffee now.”
“What? Why??”
He tousled his long blonde dreadlocks and adjusted his thick black-framed glasses. “Breaking away from the evil corporations, brah. You know Starbucks puts addictive substances in their coffee, right?”
“Isn’t that just a myth?”
“Nah, brah, they totally do. And besides, Ryan Bros. is totally local. Go Diego, you know?”
“I guess…”
“I ordered a Ryan’s Bash. The hazelnuts are totally organic.”
And that’s when I heard the first scream. I turned around and witnessed a scene so gruesome and so horrible, I didn’t know whether to run or vomit. Eventually, I did both.
Aromas was turning into a horrifying blend of cappuccino and blood as students began to maliciously attack each other over copies of Tolstoy and Apple computers. Suddenly, someone grabbed my shirt from behind, but I whirled around and threw a scalding hot French vanilla latte directly into his eyes. He fell back in surprise but it only seemed to make him angrier.
I ran out of Aromas toward the fountain in front of the Immaculata. Whatever it was, it was spreading fast as the carnage expanded across campus. Everywhere I looked I saw more violence. Students were flooding out of every building while the number infected seemed to grow exponentially. One infected person threw herself right through the windshield of a BMW and attacked the driver. Soon it became hard to tell the difference between regular students and infected students so I decided to seek refuge in the only place I knew no one ever visits – the Vista office.
Using the rear entrance to the UC, I was happy to find room 114 unlocked. Upon entering, I heard the unpleasant sound of tearing human flesh. “Oh my God!” I screamed. “Ray!” Raymond Ayala, Sports Editor of the Vista, was lying dead on the ground. Hearing my voice, Ray’s assailant turned around; I was shocked to see who it was. “Damn you, Jillian Anthony, Campus Focus Editor! Why did you kill Ray? Why?!” Jillian, or what was once Jillian, spoke slowly with bloodlust in her voice.
“Brains… Tasty brains… the Opinion Editor, has tasty brains!!”
She charged at me with inhuman speed and I tried to back away but I fell to the ground in fear. Sensing the end, I closed my eyes when suddenly I heard a loud THUD. When I opened my eyes I realized what had happenned; seemingly appearing out of nowhere, Mallory Nachtsheim, Editor-in-Chief, had pushed a massive stack of unread Vistas on top of the ravenous Jillian, crushing her to death.
“Mallory! You saved me!” I said, tears streaming down my face.
“That’s why I’m the chief, baby.” she said, tying a bandana around her forehead and lighting a cigarette.
And that’s where I’ve been ever since. Huddling in the Vista office, living on a diet of Easy Mac. Mallory left again this morning to look for more survivors but she hasn’t come back yet. I heated up a half-drank cup of coffee I found this morning and I’ve been enjoying it for the last few minutes. That hippie guy was right; the new Ryan Bros. coffee is tasty. Tasty. Yes. Almost—as tasty as—brains…