The Plague Doctor ©

K r y s t a l • K a l h a s

While making yourself some hot coffee and enjoying the warmth of the fire flickering away from afar. You grab your favorite book off the oak shelf. You gingerly walk across the splintered, hardwood floor to your chair. As you sit down, you prop your feet on the coffee table, reading your book with only the light from the windows and the illuminating, dancing flames.

 As you read, you steadily, slowly sipping at your scolding, frothy drink and begin reading in peace.

It has been long three weeks since you were in the hospital. Three prolonged weeks since you found out your own sister betrayed you. Three lengthy weeks since you were able to get rid of the thing that haunted you, the thing that shared the same blood as you. Three extended weeks that will always remain to be an eternity within your head.

You take a deep breath to ease your mind. "You're fine, relax He won't come in here." You think to yourself, trying to soothe the raging storm that's brewing in your head. "Breathe in. And out." You coach yourself off the edge of a panic attack and as you do, you slowly yet surely you begin to drift from consciousness, finding yourself engulfed into the world that the book has paged out for you.

Knock knock knock

 You abruptly jerk back into reality. With a huff, you get out of your chair yelling, "I'm coming, I'm coming!" 

Tired of being in this cursed place, you open the door and you find yourself eye-level with the slim figure and red-cheeked face of Andy Lanida. He is recognized as an unimportant figure within the compound and has little impact on your own life. With a little puff you ask, "Can I help you, Andy?" 

The stout man nods, "Castor wishes to see you." his voice holds hesitation and sincerity, "Please don't see him. He's in a bad mood today." 

You sigh, "I have to." You look at Andy's face, his eyes are wide with fear. Not just for you, but himself. "We both know what'll happen if I don't show up." 

You shake your head whilst grabbing your coat, "Winter sure came early, didn't it." You remark to Andy. 
"Indeed it has." He responds as he walks you to the Castors' house. 

"Do you think this is the Prophecy that the Castor predicted? Do you think that the Electus will be born soon?" He inquires.

You stop in your tracks as those words leave Andy's mouth. 
You look at your feet in silence as the snow falls around you, completely lost in thought. Everything is drowned out, your stuck in your happy, safe place. You are fully unaware that Andy touched your arm. You only return to reality when Andy asks, "Krystal? Are you okay?" 

"Y-yeah. I-I'm fine." You say, blatantly lying. 

"Look, if you're sick, you can go back to your place and have get rest." Andy hugs your cold, fragile body, "I'm sure he'll understand." The stout man give a small, meek smile, proving his sincerity towards others. 

This is just a small example as to why you've always thought of Andy as a brother. Even though he isn't an important character, you still fear for him if he was to return to the Castor with nothing to show for.

Your head suddenly feels dizzy and fuzzy and after a brief moment in considering his concern you say, "Thanks. I'm going to go lay back down." 

And with a swift reply, Andy nods, "Feel better." 

Reluctantly, you nod before turning around and walking back to your cottage. 

While walking back you feel something trickle down your cold, sullen face. It's a feeling of some warm, wet tears rushing down rubbing against your iced face. The dams that you carefully constructed over the painful lingering years of torment suddenly burst, flash flooding all those happy, content villages that made their home in your mind with a sea of fear; anxiety, sadness, and hopelessness. At this point, all hope is lost.

As your dam collapses, you find your feet moving, soldiering through the snow without thought, until you realize you're running; running away. Away from your cottage. Away from all the torment that had been built up. Away from the abuse.

The sprint, however, was short-lived, as you find that the chilled air is causing your legs and feet to cramp up before stumbling to a stop. With your feet trudged within the fresh snow; your tears have become icy and begin to sting your face as you try and run through the forest. 

While sprinting as fast as you can, the tears forbid you from watching where you are going: only allowing you to see blurred, wispy images, and nothing else. 

Wiping away the tears, you trip over a root in the ground and with great luck, you end up colliding with the snow and dirt. "Get up! Come on Krystal!" Trying to motivate yourself. "Get the fuck up!" You urge yourself to keep moving, "If they see you gone, you'll never have another chance! Get the fuck up and fucking move!" 

With those words, despite the fear, the pain, and the cold, you manage to collect the self-serving courage and keep running. 

Stumbling through the forest you end up on a road. You look up and down the road, watching for cars and looking for a road sign. 

"No cars," you sigh, gratefully, "At least that's good." You hold your arms to your chest, shivering trying to warm yourself up as you walk down the road; the same direction you were headed towards your only destination.

A car roars past you, causing you to flinch with fear. Only, they keep driving, ignoring you, "Thank fuck." you murmur, "I have to find a pay-phone... I need to call Nakota..." 

You hold your hand out, asking for a ride into the nearest town.

"This is it, Krystal. After this, you can either be caught, be taken back, or you can survive this." You think to yourself trying to console yourself and hold back all the mixed emotions you're feeling right now. 

It isn't long before a car gently pulls up next to you. The young woman; not much older than you rolls down her window.  

"Aren't you cold?" she kindly asks, clearly seeing you was shiver in your soaked jacket. 

"Yes, Ma'am." You reply as kindly as possible, ignoring the stinging in your arms and chest.

"Where are you headed? Maybe I can give you a ride?" the cheerful, beautiful woman asks. 

Stunned and in awe by how beautiful and kind this woman is you reply as positively as you can. "I'm headed to Keld, Maine." 

"Isn't that funny!" the woman laughs brightly, "I'm headed there myself! Get in, I'll give you a lift!"

You are hesitant about accepting the ride; but, every nice thing has strings. You shake your head, getting rid of those thoughts. 

"I'd like that, thank you!" 

"No worries!" She happily replies. "Get in and let's go!" 

You climb into the stranger's car and set course for Keld, Maine. A 2-hour drive from Amsta, Maine. The place you once called home.

"Good Old Amsta," you think to yourself, fully knowing it was never good to begin with. 

There's no turning back though, this is a one-way trip. One that could end up being good. Or one that could take a dramatic left turn, opening Hell's gate, itself.