Day One. A glorious beginning. My host thinks I’m a cough associated with her allergies. She continues with her daily life, running to and fro, unknowingly getting weaker by the minute.
Day Two, My foolish host went out in public today. By lunch she realized her mistake but it was too late. My brethren spread throughout the land. By nightfall I had unleashed the full force of my arsenal on her.
Day Three. I control the host. Fever, chills, aches, headache, deep cough, runny nose, and the continuous rejection of all stomach contents have resulted in the human’s inability to move without assistance. She responded with fluids of all types, hot tea, water with lemon, even a soda. She is unable to hydrate. Yes, I have total control.
Day Four. Drat. Perhaps I was too successful. The fever is too high and her mate – the host I have been unable to infect – has taken her to the dreaded white coats. Not that they can stop me. Bwah-hah-hah! The fools. They have named me the flu, which is as good a name as any. We have returned to the residence and she remains reclined on the couch, where she continues to drink fluids and moves only to cough.
Day Five. The host woke up with some energy today, but I zapped that quickly enough. Her movements remain restricted to necessary tasks only. I have successfully kept her from all communication devices. She currently lies in a vegetative state while a Stargate marathon unfolds on the TV screen. I may have found the perfect combination to control these hosts.
Day Six. I grow concerned. The Stargate marathon continues, and she still does not move much, but she is able to eat small servings of food. So close. I was so close to total domination of this host.
Day Seven. To any of my brethren who find this record, rage on, my friends. I have failed and the host’s internal defenses will destroy me soon enough, but learn from my actions. Next time, you will defeat the host and we shall rule this world.
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