Sporefall

LOG ENTRY – B. WOLFE
Saved Draft – Never Sent

I don't even know if you're out there anymore.
I tell myself you are, because if I stop believing that, I stop walking.

This thing… it's not a virus.
It's not something we can cure or kill.
It's becoming.
Rage was just the beginning.
Now the bodies don't stay dead—they grow.
Flesh becomes fungus. Eyes become mouths.
They scream like they remember what it felt like to be human.

I see them in my sleep.
I hear them whispering in the trees.
The spores are falling like snow now—soft, silent, everywhere.

Every day I ask myself:
If I find you, and you're one of them…
do I save you?
Or do I stay, just so you're not alone in it?

This isn't a survival story.
It's a goodbye letter.

SPOREFALL is here.
And I'm still walking toward it.