Dear John,
I hope this finds you well, if it finds you at all.I fear that this will be the last correspondence you will see from me. Things are bad here. The strange plague that has been ravishing this area is growing worse. Every night brings new death to be discovered in the morning.Bodies drain of life, emaciated covered in tiny red bumps. The doctors here fear that it is some kind of new pox. But others fear it is something more. The one lone survivor we found the other day kept talking about the buzz and the covering of the windows and walls. He died shortly after. The doctor said it was from delirium. I and others have heard the buzz, or the hum as some have called it, in the night as well. When we hear the buzz, it is always followed by screams and cries for mercy. For God’s mercy. But we all fear now that his mercy will bever come. No one knows what... I guess it doesn’t matter now. Please do not come and try to find or save me as I fear that what has come for the others will take us all soon. I believe my time is short. And that if you come the same fate will befall you.I love you too much for that. Be well. Live Long and remember my darling.
Always yours,
Rebecca