The Nightmare of Tomorrow

 I have a recurring nightmare that haunts me every night. It's always the same, but it gets worse each time. I see myself in the future, but not the future I hope for. A future where everything has gone wrong.

The nightmare starts with me waking up in a dark and dirty room. I don't recognize the place, but I know it's not my home. There are wires and tubes attached to my body, and a machine that beeps and flashes next to me. I feel pain all over, but I can't move or speak.

I look around and see other people in the same condition as me. Some of them are dead, some of them are dying, and some of them are screaming. I don't know who they are, but I feel sorry for them. They are like me, victims of a cruel experiment.

Then I see him. The man who did this to us. He wears a white coat and a mask, and he holds a syringe in his hand. He walks around the room, checking on his subjects. He stops at my bed and smiles. He says something, but I can't hear him. He injects something into my arm, and I feel a surge of fear and pain.

He says he's trying to save the world. He says he's trying to find a cure for a deadly virus that has wiped out most of humanity. He says he's using us as guinea pigs, testing different drugs and vaccines on us. He says he's sorry, but it's necessary.

He's lying. He's not trying to save the world. He's trying to destroy it. He's the one who created the virus, and he's the one who released it. He's not looking for a cure, he's looking for a weapon. He's not sorry, he's insane.

He leaves me alone, and I drift into unconsciousness. I hope it's over, but it's not. The nightmare continues. I see flashes of what happens next. I see him using his weapon on the remaining survivors. I see him laughing as he watches them die. I see him ruling over a wasteland of corpses.

And then I see myself again. But not the me in the present, or the me in the future. The me in between. The me who tried to stop him. The me who failed.

I see myself as a young and brave journalist, who uncovered his evil plan and exposed it to the world. I see myself as a fugitive and a fighter, who joined a resistance group and fought against his army of mercenaries and zombies. I see myself as a hero and a martyr, who sacrificed myself to stop his final attack.

But it was too late. He had already unleashed his weapon, and nothing could stop it. The virus spread like wildfire, killing millions in days, billions in weeks. The world was doomed, and so was I.

I wake up from the nightmare, sweating and shaking. I look at the clock and see that it's 3:00 am. I can't go back to sleep, because I know it will happen again. It always does.

I don't know why I have this nightmare, or what it means. Is it a warning, or a prophecy? Is it a memory, or a fantasy? Is it real, or is it fake?

I don't know, and I don't want to know. All I know is that it scares me more than anything else in the world.

And that's why I'm writing this blog post. To share my story with anyone who might read it. To ask for help from anyone who might know something about it. To beg for mercy from anyone who might be behind it.

Please, if you're out there, if you're listening, if you're reading this... make it stop.

Make the nightmare go away.