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PlagueDoctor!Yandere

: doctor's orders are not always wise :

His name: Krosis
Meaning: Sorrow, apologies

The setting is somewhere in the 1700s-1800s :)
Also there are religious mentionings, only a bit and its the typical olden days 'god save us all' stuff. Ya know, since this is in the time of suck ass medicine and they were pretty much fucked.
This is not at all accurate but I tried my hand and did some research. But we still need some drama and evil doctors soo-

Btw, since the reader here comes from a poor background in olden times, they have a bit of a predetermined body. I tried to steer clear of blatantly stating it and it'll only be a passing phrase or so.

Idk if the person who picked this wants to be mentioned :^

Enjoy 😩

The damaged record pages in your hand felt so heavy, yet the guilt and pity weighed heavier. Even as they were alive, a father mourned the loss of his two children, both were in tears as their bodies rotted before them. Their revolting open sores spewed both puss and a rancid, foul odor. Fingers blackened and their mouths hacked up blood and mucus.

All tell tale signs of the plague.

Dr. Krosis spoke to the man, keeping a distance from the pitiful family and begun to wipe down his cane.
"I've done all I can for your children, keep the wounds clean and pray to God for their recovery."

You were a travel doctors' assistant, more specifically, a trainee. God knows that there was a shortage of medicine and able bodied hands. The doctor you worked under- Dr. Krosis, was the best of the best in his field. He didn't have a last name much like the rest of the populace, born in a distant and nameless village somewhere south. Somehow he made a name for himself as a very sought after doctor, treating both the poor and the rich. Having a success rate of 56% before the plague spiked. Which dropped those numbers tremendously, although, it did for all doctors.

If you were to describe this man, you'd say he was a very clean man. When asked about his cleanliness habits, Dr. Krosis stated that he was just raised that way. You doubted that as no one would shake at the meer mention of dirt. It didn't help that he suspected that pests could be a factor in the spread of the plague and demanded that everything be scrubbed thoroughly after each use. Your tents? It took all day to dry. Blankets? You always ended up scooting a little closer than normal to the doctor for warmth. The wagon? It would sooner break under weakened wood than rot. The only things you could really understand was the constant washing of the horses, tableware, clothes, and bathing. Even if it was a foreign concept to you, after following the doctors habits you never felt better! Your skin felt softer and you rarely felt sick. The downside was that everyone besides your mentor smelled revolting. Luckly, the mask on your face stuffed with various herbs, plants, and such kept most stenches away.

The doctor never told you much about himself, in fact, you had never seen his face. Even when he slept he demanded that both of you keep your masks on. You agreed, if these were to keep you safe then they should be on as often as possible. Only to be removed for cleaning. Yet despite never seeing his face, the glass of the mask made his eyes visible, which were bright red. They seemed empty, only to fill with... something on the few occasions that you managed to grab his attention.

...

Dr. Krosis swiftly turned and left the house, his used equipment being placed in another bag different from his usual one. Leaving you to follow him. You took one last glance around the small house, which was only a room, without any windows. You sighed and left, knowing this family would be dead in a weeks' time. With that, you turned to get some wooden boards from the back of the wagon. Hoisting four planks over your shoulder and a tool box in your spare hand. It was cruel, what you were about to do, but doctor's orders. You trusted his every word, even if it was inhumane. Once you reached the door to the small living space, you began to work. Each nail hammered the boards to the door, effectively blocking the occupits inside, not that they could be bothered to care at the moment, lost in grief. Most of the time patients cause you trouble, in which you often needed the doctor's helps in keeping them in.