MidReal Story
Contagious Laughter: A World in Chaos
Scenario: A futuristic world were people are laughing so hard that the air born virus spreads like wild fire
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Dr. Marcus Flynn
lead virologist combating the virus, colleague of Emily, tall with graying hair, dedicated and stoic.
Emily Hart
central to the outbreak and containment, friends with medical team, short black hair, analytical and resilient.
Sarah Jennings
public relations officer for the crisis response team, works closely with Emily and Marcus, blonde and charismatic, resourceful and empathetic.
The laughter virus was accidentally released in a crowded city center during a public event.
The virus spread quickly, causing people to laugh uncontrollably until they died.
The government declared a state of emergency and sent a team of scientists to the scene to investigate the outbreak.
Emily Hart was one of the first people to be infected by the virus.
She was taken to a hospital where she met Dr.
Marcus Flynn, who was working on a cure for the virus.
Together, they discovered that the virus was created in a secretive government research facility and that it had been released by accident.
Now, Emily and Dr.
Flynn must find a way to contain the outbreak before it spreads any further.
I’m not sure when I first heard it, but I know I felt it before I heard it.
A low rumble that seemed to vibrate through my chest, like the sound of an approaching storm or an earthquake about to hit.
All around us, the streets were filled with people, all of them jostling and pushing each other in their eagerness to crowd around the barriers that had been set up to mark the parade route.
We were all here to celebrate the Queen’s official birthday, and as we waited for the parade to start, excitement seemed to fill the air.
The streets were decorated with Union Jack flags, and music blared from speakers that had been set up on every corner.
Street musicians performed on corners or in front of souvenir shops, their music filling the spaces between.
I knew that there was no way I was going to be able to push my way through this crowd to get back to where my friends were standing, but I had a good view of the parade route from where I stood.
And as long as I kept an eye on the time, I could easily make it back before the event started.
I heard it again—an unmistakable sound this time, like a peal of laughter.
I looked up toward the sound and saw a group of teenagers standing on a balcony above us, laughing and joking with each other.
As I watched, they began to laugh even harder, and their laughter seemed to echo through the streets below.
Another wave of laughter swept through the crowd—this one louder and more intense than the last.
At first, I mistook it for the sound of celebration—after all, weren’t we all here to have a good time?
But as I looked around me, I realized that something was very wrong.
The laughter was growing louder—and more intense—by the second.
It seemed to be coming from every direction at once, as though it were echoing back and forth across the city in a never-ending loop.
People’s expressions changed from joy to confusion—and then to alarm—as the laughter grew even louder than before.
A group of teenagers standing next to me began to laugh, and I felt my stomach clench in fear as I realized what was happening.
“Oh my God,” one of them said between gasps for air.
“Stop it,” another said, but his voice was barely recognizable beneath a peal of hysterical laughter.
“Stop laughing,” he repeated, but his voice grew only more intense as he laughed even harder than before.
As I looked around me, I saw that all of the people near me had begun to laugh.
Some of them were laughing so hard that they could barely breathe or stand; others were clutching their stomachs or wiping tears of mirth from their eyes.
The laughter was growing louder by the second—a roaring cacophony of sound that filled my ears and pounded against my eardrums like a drum.
I knew that this wasn’t normal.
People weren’t supposed to laugh like this.
The laughter sounded forced—painful—almost as though it were being torn from their throats against their will.
I felt my skin crawl at the sound of it, and I knew that I had to get out of here fast.
But how?
The streets were too crowded for me to make my way through the crowd on foot, and there was no way I could outrun them.
The laughter was growing louder by the second, and I knew that I didn’t have long before I would be infected.
But then I heard it—a different sound this time: a child’s laughter.
It sounded sweet and innocent—just like any other child’s laugh—and for a moment, I allowed myself to relax.
Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
I turned toward the sound of the laughter—and that was when I saw her.
She was small—no more than five or six years old—and she was laughing like she had just heard the funniest joke of her life.
But as I watched her, the smile on her face began to fade.
Her eyes widened in alarm as she clutched her throat with both hands.
At first, I thought that she was just coughing or choking on something that she had eaten—but then I realized that wasn’t the case.
She wasn’t coughing at all.
She was laughing—screaming—a horrible guttural sound that seemed to be tearing its way up from her stomach.
I heard another scream beside me—and then another—as I looked around at the crowd of people who were now collapsing to the ground around me.
Some of them were clutching their chests or their stomachs; others were gasping for air as they struggled to breathe or stand.
As I looked around me, I realized that these weren’t just any screams.
These were the screams of people who were in agony—people who were suffocating on their own laughter as it tore its way up their throats.
I heard more screams—a lot more screams—as I saw the first ambulance pull up in front of me.
A paramedic jumped out of the ambulance and ran toward me.
“Are you okay?”
he said as he knelt down beside me and pressed a hand to my forehead.
“What’s your name?”
“Emily,” I said.
“Emily Hart.” “Nice to meet you,” he said with a smile.
He checked my pulse and then helped me to my feet.
“Get in the ambulance,” he said as he pulled me toward the waiting vehicle.
“Quickly—before it’s too late.”
I hesitated for only a moment before I climbed into the ambulance and slammed the door behind me.
I had heard him—the paramedic—who had just said those words to me: “Before it’s too late.”
I knew what he meant by that: there was no cure for this virus.
Once you started laughing, there was no stopping it—or escaping it—until it killed you.
I covered my mouth with both hands as I felt my first giggle bubble its way up my throat.
I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be infected—before I would be reduced to the same state of helpless laughter as everyone else around me.
I heard the laughter start up again—it was coming from behind me this time—and then I heard more laughter behind that, and then more laughter still as it echoed up and down the street.
It was coming from above me—I looked up and saw the group of teenagers who were still on the balcony.
They were all laughing now—laughing so hard that they couldn’t stand up straight—and then they started to point at each other, and then at us, as they laughed even harder.
Their laughter seemed to be getting louder and more intense with every passing moment—as if it were coming at us in waves.
The first wave of laughter hit me like an explosion as I saw the faces of the people around me change.
People’s faces turned red as they struggled to contain their giggles; others turned white as they gasped for breath.
Some of them started to cough; others clutched their stomachs or their chests as they fell to their knees and cried out in pain.
And then I heard it: sobbing—hysterical, painful sobs—as I looked around and saw that it wasn’t just one person who was crying.
It was everyone.
I heard more cries—and then more cries—as I saw that the laughter wasn’t just coming from above me anymore.
It was coming from all directions.
There were people on the ground who were laughing; there were people in the crowd who were laughing; and there were people who weren’t even people at all who were still laughing, too.
The sound of their laughter was deafening as I covered my ears and tried to block out the noise.
It was like being at a rock concert or standing next to a jet engine as the laughter grew louder and louder with every passing moment.
I heard people screaming—begging for help—as I looked around and saw that they weren’t really people anymore.
They were monsters: their faces distorted with pain; their eyes closed as they rolled back in their heads.
Their bodies jerked and twisted as they coughed and convulsed and cried out in agony.
I saw mothers crying as they held their children; I saw fathers crying as they hugged their wives.
People were crying all around me—as if they knew that there was nothing that anyone could do to save them.
People’s faces turned red—then purple—as more and more tears streamed down their cheeks.
I saw people crying beside me; I saw people crying behind me, too—as I felt more and more tears start to fall from my own eyes.
I covered my mouth with both hands as I felt another giggle start to bubble its way up my throat.
My hands turned bright red as I pressed them against my lips; then they turned black as more tears streamed down my face.
All around me, people were crying out in pain, but it seemed like there was nothing that anyone could do to help them.
Their bodies jerked and twisted as they laughed and sobbed, but no one was there to comfort them—or stop them—from doing either one.
My body shook with sobs as I struggled to breathe; then it shook with giggles, too—as I felt more and more tears start to fall from my own eyes.
How could this be happening?
How could something so bad be happening to so many people at once?
