Prologue

"There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion, even by the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made." - Edgar Allan Poe, The Masque of the Red Death.

Forty eight hours they say. Don't worry about it they say. Liars. It's been days since that virus started spreading. Days since I've been locked down with my best friend and her school kids. We're stuck in here. Only two options. Finding the cure...or wait for our death.

[Jake Riley/OC]

[Disclaimer: I do not own Containment, only Amelia Artemisia]