Vidit Mahajan

Abstract Children Stories Action

4  

Vidit Mahajan

Abstract Children Stories Action

True Story (Prompt 18)

True Story (Prompt 18)

5 mins
304


In the battle ensuing in my body, the virus was winning. Whitey, armed with the needle shaped sword, consisting of a mix of immunity-boosters in one hand, along with shield made up of my bodily vitamins in the other, was fighting against the multiarmed, vile and baleful scion of the virus. The gruesome and gory body of the virus would have terrified the best of heroes. The sharp teeth and those black pudgy eyes would have championed against the ugliest of people on the planet. The battle was to gain control of my body, taking over my immunity. All seemed lost.


   Across the fields, on my innards, the army of Whiteys were being swarmed over by the virus’ cousins. Whitey tried stabbing the virus straight on, but somehow the virus dodged his attack. Next came the attack from the virus, where he extended one of his thousand arms, trying to disbalance Whitey. Whitey stopped the attack with his shield, barely. The force of the attack made him lose his footing and for a moment was falling backwards. He regained his balance, quick as a cat, and blocked another one of the virus’ attacks, balancing himself with one knee on the ground. 


   Attacks came from all sides. The virus managed to penetrate Whitey’s defenses a few times, nudging him on the shoulder, and sometimes scraping his legs. Whitey’s blue uniform was in shreds. All the while, Whitey tried to stab the virus. He needed an opening. All he had to do was lodge the needle into the body of the virus and then push the immunity boosters into his round, fat, oversized body. He had on good assurance that the virus won’t be able to stand against the contents of his sword.


Whitey was getting tired but the virus showed no signs of reducing the intensity of its attack. Whitey realised he couldn’t keep going on for long. It was now or never. Having made up his mind to sacrifice himself, he started to work out a way to drag the virus along to the burning halls of hell.


Whitey accentuated his swordplay. All his energy was focussed on attack. The virus was pushed back a little, with Whitey’s intensity. Yet it successfully countered all of Whitey’s attacks. Ascertaining himself of his imminent sacrifice, Whitey made a short sprint towards the virus. Before the virus could realise what was happening, Whitey dived feet first, under the body of the floating virus. Holding his sword upright, as soon as he reached directly beneath the virus, Whitey drilled the bevel of the needle with all his strength and squeezed the plunger. The immunity booster had entered the virus. Whitey had skidded across the field past where the virus was. The virus realising that Whitey was unarmed, attack with one of his killing arms and pierced Whitey’s skin. 


Whitey kept holding to his life, waiting for the virus to fall. But it never did. The virus moved on to the next Whitey, certain of his kill. The last of the life escaped out of Whitey and his sacrifice went in vain. The virus lived.


My lungs started to give. The cough was crazy. My throat was sore. Breathing had become difficult. I gasped for dear life, as I was carried away on a stretcher, on an ambulance to the hospital. I was put on breathing support and the doctors, after reviewing my condition, declared that my life was now in the hands of God.


Meanwhile, the rest of the Whiteys called up an emergency meeting. Although the battle for my lungs was lost, my immunity still remained intact. 


‘What do we do? This virus is immortal. Even the best of our boosters don’t harm him.’ said one Whitey to another.


The oldest of the Whiteys cleared his throat till he had everyone’s attention and said, ‘We have never faced an enemy of such strength and guile. It is time we escalate matters to the brain. Send him an SoS. We, my friends, have lost.’


The pride of the Whiteys had been hurt. They had never once lost a war and now they had. It was an embarrassment to seek help from the brain, but with no other alternative, a message was immediately sent. ‘Help us win this war!’


The brain immediately replied back. A gift of the strongest of boosters is on its way. Assign the best of your team to create stronger weapons. I, meanwhile, will do everything in my control to aid you against this deadly foreigner.


Lying in the hospital, mostly unconscious, I fought on for my life. The doctors and the hospital staff gave me strong doses of antibiotics to create healthier antibodies. While my senses rested, the war inside took a turn for the better.


Armed with stronger immunity boosters, as promised by the brain, the Whiteys built stronger weapons. Although these weapons didn’t kill the viruses, it helped contain their expansion. The Whiteys had contained them in the lungs.


A few days had passed and with the fighting at its peak, the brain played its card. The temperatures began to rise. My insides warmed up. The heat was terrible, causing burning sensations in my entrails and other vitals. The Whiteys suffered as well. They were confused by this strange tactic. Not for long.


The virus began to melt. The heat was too much for them. Where two or three stabs were required earlier, to kill these scat, now a mere touch of the sword killed them on the spot. The Whiteys, encouraged by this success and hopeful of their survival, attack with full gusto. Soon enough the virus was wiped away in its entirety.


Sleeping off this sickness, I swayed between varied temperatures, sometimes high, sometimes low. The fever was disparate. Once the battle was won, my body temperature returned back to normal. A few days later, my coughing stopped. With my breathing now as good as ever, I was taken off life support. I thanked the doctors for their support and offered my immense gratification to God. I forgot, though, to recognise the real heroes of this war. 


Months passed by and after being vaccinated, I forgot all about the disease. Meanwhile, the battle hardened warriors, integral to my body and its immunity, didn’t. With the help of the anti-virus properties in the vaccine, they created safety bubbles for all of my cells. The virus can't be killed. It is immortal. But it can be prevented. Its proliferation can be contained. The cells along with their families exist in protective bio-bubbles inside my body, to safeguard them against this deadly virus. Vaccination helps me shield my most prominent supporters, who ensure my life.


Rate this content
Log in

Similar english story from Abstract