Short Stories

Merchant

The Merchant was a gentle man but yet also a Mountebank. He had enemies and customers whom were always Quizzical about his work. He drugged some of the medicine bottles that he was selling but failed to mark them. He unfortunately received Paean from all his customer whom he wanted dead, and to all lost he cared about died in their stead. Every death of a love one was like Persiflage in mixture of hellish torture that he could not bear. But yet he kept using his medical and Therapeutic methods. And as more people died he released that he had ran out of the drugged bottles. Matter of fact he had already gotten new shipments of that medicine. He began to look through the medical statements of all the patients who died by the medicine that he sold them. He looked inside the records. He had a Plethora of medical knowledge, herbal compounds, and with his findings only a few remedies that fixed or assisted him with everyday live.. The patients who had dead had been poison by something else not the same side effects as the other drug would have had on them. They had been double drugged with lethal sulfur. He then saw the Schism. The other merchants whom had tainted his supply had not achieved the Virtuoso of his craft. Their Rapacity was lost in their Pragmatic movements and ideas that weaved within his doctrines. Therefore when he bought them before the court and they were hung for their crimes he was still not happy with the ending result and not only did he give up his wealth and money but also his life. If he had been given more time maybe he could have discovered a cure. The cure for a disease that eats away at the person, at the soul, and every relationship they could ever had. It is impossible to know what one could do when they lose the ultimate game of jeopardy.