Fatal Attraction

Prologue

A blur...

I fear that is the best way to describe how these last few months have gone. It seemed that the world was peaceful, and with a blink the gates of hell had opened. The streets are in a sickly panic, and those healthy barricade themselves in their homes. Bodies line the dirt paths throughout the city, decaying in the midday heat. 

When I had returned to Central London, I was expecting to return to my daily life. But when I neared the city, the smell of death cursed my senses. From just a glance, it was clear to see that the once boisterous city was sullen and grief stricken. How I had not heard of the events when I returned home to visit my family, is still a mystery to me. 

Now, my time is not my own. Day and night, I go door to door of the plagued homes, trying to ease their discomfort as most reach their demise. Never have I felt so useless; they still continue to die despite my best efforts. My heart aches each time I see their looks of panic when they open their doors. We have been pegged as Plague Doctors, as we are associated with death. 

Rumors swirl through the rich and healthy homes, that if a Plague Doctor shows up at your door, you have been marked for death. Perhaps they are correct, that we Doctors are a bad omen in the thick of the chaos.

The nights seem to be the hardest, as the cries of loved ones echo throughout the empty city. The cries that keep me awake, tossing and turning trying to find some semblance of peace. But why should I have peace when so many are losing their lives?

We have tried so many different combinations of herbs, and the leeches seem to be far fetched. Some patients claim to feel better, others curse and yell, calling me a heathen. I wish that there was more that I could do, I wish I could take their pain as my own so that they may pass in peace. 

Even those who curse our names, I do not wish ill upon them. This disease that we are battling, it is unlike any I have seen before. It is spreading so quickly, and it kills even faster. It is no doubt spreading the way it is because of the filth of the common living.  It seems nearly impossible to locate the source, we do not know where to start. We have barricaded the ill into their homes, letting only the Doctors travel from home to home. 

Even then, more keep falling ill, and more innocent people die. 

Is it the water supply?

Is it in the food that we eat?

The source is untraceable. 

And the symptoms associated with this disease are grotesque. The sickly black boils, the vomiting, the defecation. The sick infecting the healthy.

And since I am in direct contact with the infected, why do not have it? How have I not caught it yet when so many have? Many other Doctors have fallen ill and died by the hands of this hidden beast, and yet I remain healthy. 

Why?