Epics of Noche 1, Anchor

EON CH 62

MARY'S THE BLUE DEATH.

1774, SEPTEMBER 27th TUESDAY 3:00pm.

Mary fiddled with her scabbed thumbs.

"The blue death," she said. "That's the nickname for my disease."

Noche blinked as she adjusted herself in her bed.

"Have you ever heard the rumor that blood turns blue without oxygen? Well normally that's a myth... I'm the exception," Mary said. "My blood has a mutation, the hemoglobin is drastically altered. As the disease progresses, as a side effect, my blood absorbs red light and reflects blue."

Mary took in a deep breath; her chest rising as full as it could. Air slowly escaped from her mouth in a sigh.

"You know that, burning feeling, you get from holding your breath too long? That's what every day feels like," she said. "The primary symptom of my disease is it causes blood to lose the ability to hold oxygen. Eventually my blood will stay de-oxygenated, even in fresh air."

"... You're fucking with me."

"I'm not. It's why I've always been afraid of suffocation," Mary said. "One day, I'll slowly suffocate with working lungs."

The room was silent for a bit.

"Is this disease infectious?" Noche asked.

"Partially. It can spread to foreign blood, so transfusions wouldn't help me," she said. "But the disease is genetic and originates from the bone marrow."

Mary pulled down the eyelid on her left eye and user her other hand to point to the solid black outside her orange iris.

"You know the white of your eyes? That's call the sclera. Mine is solid black," Mary said. "Black sclera in the eyes is a sign the diseased has approximate twenty hears to live... My mon and I... We both had these eyes before I was even a year old."

Mary's solid ebony eyes would look like a demonic possession if not for her bright orange irises. They refracted the sunlight into thousands of sparkles like stars in darkness of night. She left go of her eyelid and slumped back into the chair.

"Twenty years to live before I was even one year old," Mary muttered, "I'll be dead before I can even legally drink."

Mary twiddled her scarred, calloused thumbs.

"I... I feel pathetic to admit it. Cause everyone always act so cool, and tough, and like its nothing to deal with... But I'm afraid to die. I'm so scared of death... I don't wanna die," Mary's eyes shimmered with wetness. "It's a good thing the fight ended when it did. Technically, I shouldn't even leave my bed, let fight. At most, my body can take half an hour of physical strain before I collapse... And then if I don't take my medicine..."

Mary lowered her head and wiped her eyes. Then she shot back up with a glare at Noche. After a few seconds a faint grin appeared on Mary's face.

"Bruh, most people who see a vampire with a giant butcher's cleaver tend to stay the fuck away. So why was your first instinct to charge?"

Noche shrugged; Mary laughed.

"Bruh, I don't last long in a physical melee. I use that giant blade to scare people into a ranged fight," Mary chuckled. "You're the first bitch I know to charge forward. You must have some serious brain damage."

Noche rolled her eyes.

"I hate that I have to inject medicine and withdraw blood at the same time. But I have to do it this way to get it to my lungs in time," Mary's smile lessened. "The neck holes and the black eyes... Well. Lets just say Im tired of being compared to a vampire."