Chapter 16 - Paulus
I
It was impossibly fast for its size and blurred as it sprinted the fifty or so feet from the alley to the guard’s compound. Reaction was not an option. So, Paulus stood slack faced as the former man – now a creature transformed remarkably similar to Bantius in complexion but wholly different in every other way – charged. If he had any sense, he would have realized Aemilia was in the creature’s path. He would have pulled her to safety as he had done in their home when Bantius attacked and shield her from harm. Whether from the sickness or ever-growing creature’s bulk and speed, he remained dumb to his wife’s impending fate.
Finally, his adrenaline kicked in and slapped him into realization while pushing away his fever. He made to move, but it was far too late. In vivid slow motion, he watched the creature rear to its full height in its last pounding stride and plunge its terribly long fangs stretching from its terrible maw into Aemilia’s clavicle.
Her scream was the worst thing he had ever heard or would ever hear until his dying day.
With its mouth alone, the creature lifted her from the ground and twisted its neck side to side. Her scream never stopped, and her body was like a hunting dog twisting a rabbit back and forth. A bloody spirt ejected from her mutilated flesh and slashed across Paulus’s face, which froze his blood and stunned him worse than any blow. His only dumb thought was a fasciation – how could she remain conscious during the inhuman violence enacted upon her and she continue to howl her agony?
The creature that was once Lars paused to take a few slurping gulps of her blood and then a chin jerk casually tossed her spiraling aside, as if she was little more than a straw doll. Paulus involuntary cried out as she landed in a broken slump a few yards away, which finally silenced her protests. The only miracle he could hope for was that she still lived. He knew full well bones were shattered and made audible by the sickly thud that sounded her landing.
He just managed to dodge the creature’s renewed charge as it flung itself at the closest guard and skidded his knees on the cobbles as he did so. Just like Paulus, the guard was too shocked to react, but unlike Paulus had not regained any composure to get away. Simply, the guard’s face vanished beneath the creature’s meaty fist as it grabbed the poor man’s head. Blood and skull splattered in a violent explosion between the monster’s fingers. That stirred the Captain and remaining guard into action. They drew their swords and cried murderous hatred towards the hulking and still growing creature as it paused to consume their comrade.
Aemilia was Paulus’s only concern. He pulled away from the guards’ plight and forced his feet under him. He forced aside the terror that sought to paralyze him again, as he felt the pulsing air and heard the commotion from the ensuing battle behind him. He raced to his wife’s side and with meek trembling fingers, touched her blood drenched face. I must get her away, his mind cried. More roughly than he intended, he hefted her the right way up and shouldered her weight. She felt loose and gave no protest. His muscles were already beginning to protest as he fought for balance, and the adrenaline beginning to lose its fight against the fever. Love stopped any chance for failure. He roared to release an inner strength that only the will to survive could ignite.
“I am going to save you!” He said through gritted teeth and repeated the statement in a desperate chant, over and over again, with each step he took.
A mass flew above him and crunched against a building wall just ahead – freeing a torch in the process – and to his right. He registered the guard’s ruined face as he began to run from the courtyard, as best as he could. It was surprising that he still recognized the pulped man. There were parts missing and Aemilia could be considered fortunate considering the damage wrought upon the – now – dead guard.
Involuntarily, Paulus looked over his shoulder and saw that the Guard’s Captain still fought. Her face was laced with effort as she struggled for her life. Somehow, she darted faster than the creature could move. It did not matter, He did not see any way she could win, but similar to the heroes in the stories his mother used to read to him as a babe, she stood against the rampaging monstrosity – lashing out with her sword and rolling away from the creature’s return blows with master’s skill.
Horns blew from the guard house and alarmed shouts echoed into the night. More guards rushed from the open gate to join their Captain with sword and torch held high. Paulus felt she must have been a great leader to inspire those men and few women to charge out to fight against such a horror.
Paulus adjusted Aemilia and registered a moan from her lips. Relief flooded his chest, but he did not terry. She was alive, which was all that mattered; he would die trying to keep her that way. He did not care which direction he took, just as long as it was away from this place. Whether from good fortune, or even an unseen guardian, he managed to pick the street that led directly to the hall that housed their apartment. He hoped they would be safe there as he realized the good fortune his rash and unthought decision had given.
Halfway to back to the apartment Paulus’s legs began to wobble and it took every effort to stop his knees from collapsing. Fresh sweat beaded his forehead and trickled down his face. All he could do was concentrate on one step at a time, one after the other. Exhausted, hurt, and ready to give up in a way he had never felt before, he continued to trudge onwards. He did his best to control his swimming mind. Aemilia’s safety was all that mattered. He knew he had to stay focused to get her to safety and to keep his body moving.
Mercifully, he found himself outside the hall – not fully registering the distance he travelled already – and shouldered his way into the common space. A low burning fire gave the only luminance and created long shadows along the floors and walls that played ghastly tricks on the imagination, but it was enough for him to find his path to the staircase. He took the first stair and gritted his teeth against the weakness that sought to take his legs from under him. There was no way he would give in. Each step felt like climbing a mountain, but he did not falter. He refused too.
Exhaustion took his vision in the last few steps, and he came his closest to falling as put his weight against their apartment’s door. A lump in his throat blocked his gasps for air and panic momentarily elevated his blood pressure. It was a blessing in disguise. For a second, his mind became sharp once more. He swallowed hard, freeing the phlegm, and sucked in a deep breath, before fumbling with the door’s handle with his momentary surge in strength.
Again, he nearly fell as his weight flung the door wide. He spun and back peddled Aemilia in both his arms and half carried, half dragged her across the room. With a roar, he pulled her up and let the bed take her weight. Finally, exhaustion and fever overtook his endurance and his legs buckled. He did not feel the fall, but knew it was hard by the numb that overtook his nerves where he landed. His body was beyond pain and refused to register anymore for now. He closed his eyes and began to float.
Paulus did not know when his mind faded into the darkness, but he woke with a start. Immediately, he shot to his feet and checked the bed. Relief filled his chest and he let out a breath he did not realize he was holding. Slowly, but steadily Aemilia’s chest rose and fell in a comfortable rhythm.
Blood stained the bed’s sheets, but no longer flowed from the bite wound or the others caused by the fall. More startling, her bones that he thought... no, that he knew had broken were straight and true – as if they had mended on their own without being set. The relief turned to panic as his exhausted mind realized the implications of what that could mean. Perhaps, they were not broken after all, and he suppressed the worry with that illogic. He was very tired after all. He could have misunderstand how hurt she actually was in his panic to get away from the creature.
Desperately, he stripped the tattered clothes from her body and examined her for the black veins; the same he had seen on both Bantius and Lars. The veins were what he had noticed as the common denominator on those who had change and that commonality could not be coincidence. Her skin was pale and clammy with sweat but thankfully there were no veins and he let out a relieved sigh.
He crawled beside her not noticing the small black lines stretching to his skin’s surface on his own wrists.
The light crept into Paulus’s eyes causing him to stir. He blinked away its sting and grumbled. His body ached beyond any toiling in his fields had ever delivered to him. Slowly the fog from an unrestful sleep dissipated and he gathered enough energy to roll and sit up.
“Aemilia?” He groaned and his throat was dry. “Can I have some water?”
His mind clicked. Emotion hit him with a tsunami’s force, and he spun to check his wife. She lay peacefully on the bed but had grown paler since he carried her to safety. Again, he examined her for the black veins but found none. She did not respond to his touch and lay still as if tied down by her slumber. He wanted to shake her awake and hear her voice but knew it was a selfish desire and felt it best to let her rest. Somehow the bite did not look as awful as it did the night before. It was still open and raw, but the bleeding had ceased completely; despite it not having any bandages or pressure applied.
A new disquiet added tension to his chest and pressure to his thoughts. The healing was not possible. In reality, Aemilia should have bled out. Either he had dreamt all that had happened, or something he could not fathom was happening to his wife. No one healed that quick. Even the Lars monster had a wound on its neck form where the man – before becoming the creature – had obviously been bitten. However, her skin was not showing the veins and he clung to that hope of hopes, like a drowning sailor desperately hanging onto driftwood. It was a miracle.
“I will find you a doctor,” He vowed aloud.
As he began to change his sweat and blood soiled cloths, he found that the sore throughout his frame had quashed his fever for the time being – mayhap it had even broken. Small mercy, he thought. He finished dressing and decided to move quickly – should the fever return, he did not want to be out in public.
He stole one last glance at Aemilia, then took a deep breath to stay his nerves. It broke his heart to leave her in such a state, and he wanted nothing more than to stay at her side to care for her as she cared for him. With a sigh, which marked his resolve to fulfill his vow to find a doctor, he pushed the door opened with its usual creek. He softly squeezed out and closed it behind him as carefully as possible – wincing as it groaned shut.
The hall felt eerily empty. For the day's hour, it should have had a few patrons – or the refugees housed in the apartments – on the main level. Not even the bartender was present. Everything was in place. There were no upturned chairs or other disturbances. It was as if everyone had simply vanished.
His knees gave extraordinarily little bend as he took the stairs one at a time. Each step sent fresh agony through the joints and up to his hips. He imagined this is how the elderly felt and wanted to grumble his discomfort as they might. The last stair finally came and went, and he raced as fast as his sore body would allow out the door to the streets beyond.
The sun reached well beyond the building’s rooves but was still a few hours from its zenith. Again, he was disturbed by the quiet. Not a single soul stirred outside. Even the dust refused to move, and the air lay flat and heavy. Disquiet tickled his nerves.
Was this even the same town we visited in what felt like a lifetime ago? He asked himself. It certainly felt different. A place forgotten. It felt dead.
He sipped the thick air and stale air, then pushed on. Thankfully, the doctor was not in the guardhouse’s direction. Ameilia had told him where to go as she had gotten medicine from the physician to combat his fever. Ignorance was bliss and he had no desire to dispel it at this time – though a part wondered if the guards and their Captain survived the confrontation.
His footfalls seemed to echo at his hearing’s edge from between the empty streets, and he desperately wanted to see someone else – to feel normal in this deserted place. No relief was given. If anyone was still around, they refused to come out into the light and remained hidden behind closed shutters. The streets split into a ‘T’ and as Paulus rounded the corner. His unspoken prayers were answered.
A lone guard patrolled the street. His head was bowed and his march sloppy; he dragged each step as if exhaustion had sapped all his strength.
“Hello, sir,” Paulus tentatively said.
As if struck by lightning, the guard tensed and leveled his spear, “What the... Hey! What are you doing outside!?”
“Sir,” Paulus said feebly, “I-I am looking for the doctor, sir. My wife... she needs to be examined.”
“You damned fool!” The guard roared, “Don’t you know you can’t be outside!?”
“What do you mean?”
“After the attack that wounded Captain, Sergeant Dexsius ordered everyone indoors. Only the town guard are allowed on the streets!”
“I am sorry,” Paulus lifted his hands defensively. Suddenly a thought crossed his mind, and he gave it voice, “Sorry sir, I don’t mean to be a nuisance... but could you please tell me when she... I mean... the Captain of the Guard was injured?”
“Three nights ago,” The guard said, “There was no way you could have missed the Sergeant’s announcement. We have gone to every door in the last two days!”
Paulus’s mouth dropped. His stomach turned in realization to its emptiness and his mouth felt beyond dry. For reason’s he could not explain, his teeth ached. “I was asleep for almost three days?” He whispered the epiphany to himself.
“What?” The guard demanded.
“S-Sorry, I had a fever you see... it just broke this morning. I must have slept through the announcement.”
“That is either the dumbest excuse I have ever heard,” The guard said and, at last, stood at ease. He lifted his spear’s point to the sky and continued, “Or the truth.”
“I swear it is the truth, sir.”
“Alright, I will escort you back to where you live, friend.”
“Thank you, sir... but my wif-”
The guard lifted a hand to interrupt, “I’ll get the doc right after and bring him your way. Talk of a sickness going around to add to this nightmare... the doc will want to make sure your wife is free of it.”
Paulus’s heart sank at the word sickness but did not press further. Silently, he made his way back to the hall and admitted himself back in. He turned and gave his thanks to the guard, with another apology.
“Don’t worry, friend. Just don’t let me catch you again, understand? I can let one instance go, but two will make you a liar and me a fool, got it?”
“I do,” Paulus nodded.
“Good,” The guard said, “Stay here, will only take me a few minutes to fetch the doc. Then I will escort you back.”
She had grown very pale since the guard had sent him back to the apartment. Paulus watched the elderly man study Aemilia’s wounded shoulder and listen to her breathing. Paulus’s complete focus was on examination, and he was desperate for the doctor to give him news. It had felt like hours since the doctor arrived. At last, Lavici’s doctor leaned back and stood straight. The expressionless face was stone and Paulus could not read anything from it.
“She is asleep,” The doctor said after an uncomfortable silence.
Paulus was dumbstruck, “Sir, I could have guessed that.” He did not intend to be rude, but shock forced the words out.
The doctor placed his chin thoughtfully between his thumb and pointer. After another short quiet period, he said, “Will you help me get her to her side?”
With a nod, Paulus approached and placed his hands on Aemilia’s hips, while the doctor took her shoulders. He twisted her weight and stepped back in horror. His voice trembled, “By the gods... no...”
The doctor’s cool expression cracked, and he let out a defeated sigh, “I am sorry, son.”
Black veins stretched down Aemilia’s spine and branched out, similar to a great tree which had lost its leaves in winter. They throbbed visibly and Paulus imagined a poison running through her, consuming, and devouring her vitality. He had not thought to turn her in all this time, and he cursed himself for his stupidity.
“She is strong,” The doctor thought aloud, “Very much like the Captain of the Guard, maybe it's their strength... perhaps this disease does not travel as fast in women... who knows, it's too early to tell. Only the Gods have those answers right now.”
Paulus gripped the doctor’s shoulders with more force than he intended and cried, “You have to do something!”
Her scream was the worst thing he had ever heard or would ever hear until his dying day.
With its mouth alone, the creature lifted her from the ground and twisted its neck side to side. Her scream never stopped, and her body was like a hunting dog twisting a rabbit back and forth. A bloody spirt ejected from her mutilated flesh and slashed across Paulus’s face, which froze his blood and stunned him worse than any blow. His only dumb thought was a fasciation – how could she remain conscious during the inhuman violence enacted upon her and she continue to howl her agony?
The creature that was once Lars paused to take a few slurping gulps of her blood and then a chin jerk casually tossed her spiraling aside, as if she was little more than a straw doll. Paulus involuntary cried out as she landed in a broken slump a few yards away, which finally silenced her protests. The only miracle he could hope for was that she still lived. He knew full well bones were shattered and made audible by the sickly thud that sounded her landing.
He just managed to dodge the creature’s renewed charge as it flung itself at the closest guard and skidded his knees on the cobbles as he did so. Just like Paulus, the guard was too shocked to react, but unlike Paulus had not regained any composure to get away. Simply, the guard’s face vanished beneath the creature’s meaty fist as it grabbed the poor man’s head. Blood and skull splattered in a violent explosion between the monster’s fingers. That stirred the Captain and remaining guard into action. They drew their swords and cried murderous hatred towards the hulking and still growing creature as it paused to consume their comrade.
II
“I am going to save you!” He said through gritted teeth and repeated the statement in a desperate chant, over and over again, with each step he took.
A mass flew above him and crunched against a building wall just ahead – freeing a torch in the process – and to his right. He registered the guard’s ruined face as he began to run from the courtyard, as best as he could. It was surprising that he still recognized the pulped man. There were parts missing and Aemilia could be considered fortunate considering the damage wrought upon the – now – dead guard.
Involuntarily, Paulus looked over his shoulder and saw that the Guard’s Captain still fought. Her face was laced with effort as she struggled for her life. Somehow, she darted faster than the creature could move. It did not matter, He did not see any way she could win, but similar to the heroes in the stories his mother used to read to him as a babe, she stood against the rampaging monstrosity – lashing out with her sword and rolling away from the creature’s return blows with master’s skill.
Horns blew from the guard house and alarmed shouts echoed into the night. More guards rushed from the open gate to join their Captain with sword and torch held high. Paulus felt she must have been a great leader to inspire those men and few women to charge out to fight against such a horror.
Paulus adjusted Aemilia and registered a moan from her lips. Relief flooded his chest, but he did not terry. She was alive, which was all that mattered; he would die trying to keep her that way. He did not care which direction he took, just as long as it was away from this place. Whether from good fortune, or even an unseen guardian, he managed to pick the street that led directly to the hall that housed their apartment. He hoped they would be safe there as he realized the good fortune his rash and unthought decision had given.
III
Mercifully, he found himself outside the hall – not fully registering the distance he travelled already – and shouldered his way into the common space. A low burning fire gave the only luminance and created long shadows along the floors and walls that played ghastly tricks on the imagination, but it was enough for him to find his path to the staircase. He took the first stair and gritted his teeth against the weakness that sought to take his legs from under him. There was no way he would give in. Each step felt like climbing a mountain, but he did not falter. He refused too.
Exhaustion took his vision in the last few steps, and he came his closest to falling as put his weight against their apartment’s door. A lump in his throat blocked his gasps for air and panic momentarily elevated his blood pressure. It was a blessing in disguise. For a second, his mind became sharp once more. He swallowed hard, freeing the phlegm, and sucked in a deep breath, before fumbling with the door’s handle with his momentary surge in strength.
Again, he nearly fell as his weight flung the door wide. He spun and back peddled Aemilia in both his arms and half carried, half dragged her across the room. With a roar, he pulled her up and let the bed take her weight. Finally, exhaustion and fever overtook his endurance and his legs buckled. He did not feel the fall, but knew it was hard by the numb that overtook his nerves where he landed. His body was beyond pain and refused to register anymore for now. He closed his eyes and began to float.
IV
Blood stained the bed’s sheets, but no longer flowed from the bite wound or the others caused by the fall. More startling, her bones that he thought... no, that he knew had broken were straight and true – as if they had mended on their own without being set. The relief turned to panic as his exhausted mind realized the implications of what that could mean. Perhaps, they were not broken after all, and he suppressed the worry with that illogic. He was very tired after all. He could have misunderstand how hurt she actually was in his panic to get away from the creature.
Desperately, he stripped the tattered clothes from her body and examined her for the black veins; the same he had seen on both Bantius and Lars. The veins were what he had noticed as the common denominator on those who had change and that commonality could not be coincidence. Her skin was pale and clammy with sweat but thankfully there were no veins and he let out a relieved sigh.
He crawled beside her not noticing the small black lines stretching to his skin’s surface on his own wrists.
V
“Aemilia?” He groaned and his throat was dry. “Can I have some water?”
His mind clicked. Emotion hit him with a tsunami’s force, and he spun to check his wife. She lay peacefully on the bed but had grown paler since he carried her to safety. Again, he examined her for the black veins but found none. She did not respond to his touch and lay still as if tied down by her slumber. He wanted to shake her awake and hear her voice but knew it was a selfish desire and felt it best to let her rest. Somehow the bite did not look as awful as it did the night before. It was still open and raw, but the bleeding had ceased completely; despite it not having any bandages or pressure applied.
A new disquiet added tension to his chest and pressure to his thoughts. The healing was not possible. In reality, Aemilia should have bled out. Either he had dreamt all that had happened, or something he could not fathom was happening to his wife. No one healed that quick. Even the Lars monster had a wound on its neck form where the man – before becoming the creature – had obviously been bitten. However, her skin was not showing the veins and he clung to that hope of hopes, like a drowning sailor desperately hanging onto driftwood. It was a miracle.
“I will find you a doctor,” He vowed aloud.
As he began to change his sweat and blood soiled cloths, he found that the sore throughout his frame had quashed his fever for the time being – mayhap it had even broken. Small mercy, he thought. He finished dressing and decided to move quickly – should the fever return, he did not want to be out in public.
He stole one last glance at Aemilia, then took a deep breath to stay his nerves. It broke his heart to leave her in such a state, and he wanted nothing more than to stay at her side to care for her as she cared for him. With a sigh, which marked his resolve to fulfill his vow to find a doctor, he pushed the door opened with its usual creek. He softly squeezed out and closed it behind him as carefully as possible – wincing as it groaned shut.
The hall felt eerily empty. For the day's hour, it should have had a few patrons – or the refugees housed in the apartments – on the main level. Not even the bartender was present. Everything was in place. There were no upturned chairs or other disturbances. It was as if everyone had simply vanished.
His knees gave extraordinarily little bend as he took the stairs one at a time. Each step sent fresh agony through the joints and up to his hips. He imagined this is how the elderly felt and wanted to grumble his discomfort as they might. The last stair finally came and went, and he raced as fast as his sore body would allow out the door to the streets beyond.
The sun reached well beyond the building’s rooves but was still a few hours from its zenith. Again, he was disturbed by the quiet. Not a single soul stirred outside. Even the dust refused to move, and the air lay flat and heavy. Disquiet tickled his nerves.
Was this even the same town we visited in what felt like a lifetime ago? He asked himself. It certainly felt different. A place forgotten. It felt dead.
He sipped the thick air and stale air, then pushed on. Thankfully, the doctor was not in the guardhouse’s direction. Ameilia had told him where to go as she had gotten medicine from the physician to combat his fever. Ignorance was bliss and he had no desire to dispel it at this time – though a part wondered if the guards and their Captain survived the confrontation.
His footfalls seemed to echo at his hearing’s edge from between the empty streets, and he desperately wanted to see someone else – to feel normal in this deserted place. No relief was given. If anyone was still around, they refused to come out into the light and remained hidden behind closed shutters. The streets split into a ‘T’ and as Paulus rounded the corner. His unspoken prayers were answered.
A lone guard patrolled the street. His head was bowed and his march sloppy; he dragged each step as if exhaustion had sapped all his strength.
“Hello, sir,” Paulus tentatively said.
As if struck by lightning, the guard tensed and leveled his spear, “What the... Hey! What are you doing outside!?”
“Sir,” Paulus said feebly, “I-I am looking for the doctor, sir. My wife... she needs to be examined.”
“You damned fool!” The guard roared, “Don’t you know you can’t be outside!?”
“What do you mean?”
“After the attack that wounded Captain, Sergeant Dexsius ordered everyone indoors. Only the town guard are allowed on the streets!”
“I am sorry,” Paulus lifted his hands defensively. Suddenly a thought crossed his mind, and he gave it voice, “Sorry sir, I don’t mean to be a nuisance... but could you please tell me when she... I mean... the Captain of the Guard was injured?”
“Three nights ago,” The guard said, “There was no way you could have missed the Sergeant’s announcement. We have gone to every door in the last two days!”
Paulus’s mouth dropped. His stomach turned in realization to its emptiness and his mouth felt beyond dry. For reason’s he could not explain, his teeth ached. “I was asleep for almost three days?” He whispered the epiphany to himself.
“What?” The guard demanded.
“S-Sorry, I had a fever you see... it just broke this morning. I must have slept through the announcement.”
“That is either the dumbest excuse I have ever heard,” The guard said and, at last, stood at ease. He lifted his spear’s point to the sky and continued, “Or the truth.”
“I swear it is the truth, sir.”
“Alright, I will escort you back to where you live, friend.”
“Thank you, sir... but my wif-”
The guard lifted a hand to interrupt, “I’ll get the doc right after and bring him your way. Talk of a sickness going around to add to this nightmare... the doc will want to make sure your wife is free of it.”
Paulus’s heart sank at the word sickness but did not press further. Silently, he made his way back to the hall and admitted himself back in. He turned and gave his thanks to the guard, with another apology.
“Don’t worry, friend. Just don’t let me catch you again, understand? I can let one instance go, but two will make you a liar and me a fool, got it?”
“I do,” Paulus nodded.
“Good,” The guard said, “Stay here, will only take me a few minutes to fetch the doc. Then I will escort you back.”
VI
She had grown very pale since the guard had sent him back to the apartment. Paulus watched the elderly man study Aemilia’s wounded shoulder and listen to her breathing. Paulus’s complete focus was on examination, and he was desperate for the doctor to give him news. It had felt like hours since the doctor arrived. At last, Lavici’s doctor leaned back and stood straight. The expressionless face was stone and Paulus could not read anything from it.
“She is asleep,” The doctor said after an uncomfortable silence.
Paulus was dumbstruck, “Sir, I could have guessed that.” He did not intend to be rude, but shock forced the words out.
The doctor placed his chin thoughtfully between his thumb and pointer. After another short quiet period, he said, “Will you help me get her to her side?”
With a nod, Paulus approached and placed his hands on Aemilia’s hips, while the doctor took her shoulders. He twisted her weight and stepped back in horror. His voice trembled, “By the gods... no...”
The doctor’s cool expression cracked, and he let out a defeated sigh, “I am sorry, son.”
Black veins stretched down Aemilia’s spine and branched out, similar to a great tree which had lost its leaves in winter. They throbbed visibly and Paulus imagined a poison running through her, consuming, and devouring her vitality. He had not thought to turn her in all this time, and he cursed himself for his stupidity.
“She is strong,” The doctor thought aloud, “Very much like the Captain of the Guard, maybe it's their strength... perhaps this disease does not travel as fast in women... who knows, it's too early to tell. Only the Gods have those answers right now.”
Paulus gripped the doctor’s shoulders with more force than he intended and cried, “You have to do something!”
Calmly, the doctor placed a firm hand on Paulus’s, “Please.”
Paulus felt the authority in the doctor’s voice, let go, and took a shameful step backwards, “My apologies...”
The doctor took a moment to straighten his clothes. His voice took on its cold clinical aspect once more, but his eyes held pity, “Let me tell you something I have not said to anyone else. I see that you are a kind soul, and I will not give words that will become untrue... I believe Lavici is dead, son. The rats are spreading this plague faster than we can control it. They are dooming everyone in this town, and it is only a matter of time before the Captain dies. With her passing, I have no doubt anarchy will consume those who stay.”
“What can I do?” Paulus begged and did his best to blink away the stringing tears in his eyes.
“Stay in this room and enjoy what time you have left,” The doctor said.
Paulus nodded and paused in his grief, “Wait, what time... you mean me don’t you? Not Aemilia... Don’t you mean, what time I have left with my wife?”
The doctor’s eyes darted, and Paulus followed them to his own wrists. He felt nothing, his heart had already been ripped from his chest when Aemilia’s plight was confirmed. He lifted his hand and examined the black veins, noticing their feint impressions running up his arms. It was a relief; at least he knew he would not have to spend long in this life without his wife.
“You must love her very much to have not noticed your own condition,” the doctor said as he gathered his tools.
“H-how?” Paulus questioned.
“My theory is that the disease is spread from both bite and scratch. Bite is by far the worse, but if blood is drawn by a scratch... you become infected – it just takes longer to act. I have seen it happen to those who have encountered the rats.”
“But... my fever... it broke,” Paulus said.
“It will return, I am afraid to say. When it does... well I guess from what the guards said about Lars... his transformation could explain the missing... but the few I have seen consumed by this...” He paused, “I theorize it is more likely the disease will take you like any other deadly plague. A painful death will occur...”
Paulus slumped into a chair and stared awestruck at the wall.
“Do your best to keep her cool and hydrated,” The doctor said as he made for the door, “It will buy her some more time, but I have no remedy for this... thankfully, she is asleep and will not suffer as others are. Those who sleep through the disease seem to remain so.”
“I apologized if I was rude earlier, doctor,” Paulus said, “Thank you for coming... I had no clue...”
“No clue the town is in such a dire state? Well, do not trouble yourself. It happened fast and you slept through where it turned for the worse. I bid you good day, son.” The doctor took a moment to stretch and crossed the room.
“If she awakes?” Paulus asked as an afterthought, “Where can I find you?”
The doctor bowed his head just as his hand clasped the doorknob. Despite the shame that crossed his features. With a guilt laden voice, he spoke evenly, “I am afraid you will not be able to find me. After I leave your dwelling, I am taking my leave from Lavici... Dexsius is an honourable man. I convinced him that I should bring word to the colleges in the Capital.”
Paulus did not reply, nor send any accusation towards the doctor. He understood in a way. No point staying on a sinking ship. His gaze drifted towards Aemilia, who remained on her side – with the black veins exposed.
After a while, he stood and crossed the room. He did not know when the doctor left, nor did he register it. He did not care. A cold settled into his bones and a fresh sweat beaded his brow as if by prophecy. The fever was clawing its way across his body once more. His head felt light. All he wanted was to feel his wife’s warmth one last time and he was thankful it was still there as lay behind her and pulled her into his arms. Her breath was starting to labour once more but was still peaceful and even enough for now.
He let that peace ease over him and accepted his fate, like a drowning and shipwrecked sailor slowly sliding under the ocean’s water after battling for survival, day after day without nourishment.
Paulus felt the authority in the doctor’s voice, let go, and took a shameful step backwards, “My apologies...”
The doctor took a moment to straighten his clothes. His voice took on its cold clinical aspect once more, but his eyes held pity, “Let me tell you something I have not said to anyone else. I see that you are a kind soul, and I will not give words that will become untrue... I believe Lavici is dead, son. The rats are spreading this plague faster than we can control it. They are dooming everyone in this town, and it is only a matter of time before the Captain dies. With her passing, I have no doubt anarchy will consume those who stay.”
“What can I do?” Paulus begged and did his best to blink away the stringing tears in his eyes.
“Stay in this room and enjoy what time you have left,” The doctor said.
Paulus nodded and paused in his grief, “Wait, what time... you mean me don’t you? Not Aemilia... Don’t you mean, what time I have left with my wife?”
The doctor’s eyes darted, and Paulus followed them to his own wrists. He felt nothing, his heart had already been ripped from his chest when Aemilia’s plight was confirmed. He lifted his hand and examined the black veins, noticing their feint impressions running up his arms. It was a relief; at least he knew he would not have to spend long in this life without his wife.
“You must love her very much to have not noticed your own condition,” the doctor said as he gathered his tools.
“H-how?” Paulus questioned.
“My theory is that the disease is spread from both bite and scratch. Bite is by far the worse, but if blood is drawn by a scratch... you become infected – it just takes longer to act. I have seen it happen to those who have encountered the rats.”
“But... my fever... it broke,” Paulus said.
“It will return, I am afraid to say. When it does... well I guess from what the guards said about Lars... his transformation could explain the missing... but the few I have seen consumed by this...” He paused, “I theorize it is more likely the disease will take you like any other deadly plague. A painful death will occur...”
Paulus slumped into a chair and stared awestruck at the wall.
“Do your best to keep her cool and hydrated,” The doctor said as he made for the door, “It will buy her some more time, but I have no remedy for this... thankfully, she is asleep and will not suffer as others are. Those who sleep through the disease seem to remain so.”
“I apologized if I was rude earlier, doctor,” Paulus said, “Thank you for coming... I had no clue...”
“No clue the town is in such a dire state? Well, do not trouble yourself. It happened fast and you slept through where it turned for the worse. I bid you good day, son.” The doctor took a moment to stretch and crossed the room.
“If she awakes?” Paulus asked as an afterthought, “Where can I find you?”
The doctor bowed his head just as his hand clasped the doorknob. Despite the shame that crossed his features. With a guilt laden voice, he spoke evenly, “I am afraid you will not be able to find me. After I leave your dwelling, I am taking my leave from Lavici... Dexsius is an honourable man. I convinced him that I should bring word to the colleges in the Capital.”
Paulus did not reply, nor send any accusation towards the doctor. He understood in a way. No point staying on a sinking ship. His gaze drifted towards Aemilia, who remained on her side – with the black veins exposed.
After a while, he stood and crossed the room. He did not know when the doctor left, nor did he register it. He did not care. A cold settled into his bones and a fresh sweat beaded his brow as if by prophecy. The fever was clawing its way across his body once more. His head felt light. All he wanted was to feel his wife’s warmth one last time and he was thankful it was still there as lay behind her and pulled her into his arms. Her breath was starting to labour once more but was still peaceful and even enough for now.
He let that peace ease over him and accepted his fate, like a drowning and shipwrecked sailor slowly sliding under the ocean’s water after battling for survival, day after day without nourishment.
Thank you for reading! If you like the story so far please give it a like and share it!
~Brett
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