From The Dystopia Plague – Chapter Three

"It was during a Winter Publishing Season," said Dr. Caligarius, "that the Dystopia Plague fell upon the fields and cities of our world, leaving only the dead, the undead and a handful of haggard survivors." Thirteen year old Callie Maxson turned her grimy face toward the soot streaked window of the mobile cave. Images of finding  her best friend Amanda's bloated corpse, still clutching a copy of  Dark Fumes, seeped back  into Callie's thoughts. "But how," she said, "how did this happen to our world."

  "It was a mass psychosomatic response," said Calgarius, "so many people had read so many dsytopias that a future without catastrophe became unthinkable. The apocalyptic scenarios, totalitarian, natural disaster, plague, man made weapons, they all blended in the mass psyche into a narrative stew, a breeding ground for the Dystopia Plague. "

 Callie turned to face Dr Caligarius. "Why was I spared." Caligarius sighed. "Incredibly gorgeous but romantically unavailable Guardian Angels from a neighboring sub-genre appeared and saved those few young people who imagined themselves to be unknowingly reborn incarnations of ancient warriors of the light and slayers of the dark." Callie thought of James, his magnificent wings, always there, guarding her, training her, everything but kissing her, though Callie thought James yearned for her secretly, forbidden and impossible though it was. "Thank you," Dr. Caligarius," she said, noticing Caligarius grotesque transformation just as James burst into the room.