Fatal Attraction

Chapter One

"You said that you would help her!" The raven haired woman shouts, her fits clutching the coarse fabric of my coat. I tilt my head down to her, eyeing the black boils forming on her skin. With a sigh, I rear back my shoulders, taking a step back from the woman, her weak grip letting go of my coat. "I am truly sorry, but I did not say that my treatments were curative. I merely said that I would do my best to help."

"Liar!" the woman raises her hand, to strike me no doubt. I bow my head as she swings her arm, but the blow never comes. A loud thump causes me to raise my head, the woman now convulsing on the ground.  I rush to the woman's side, grabbing the pillow from the nearest bed. I try to turn her head towards me, her body stiffened from the apparent seizure.  I lift her turned head slightly, sliding the tarnished pillow underneath to support her neck.

My hands fumble across my coat, trying to find my pocket. A cold, clammy hand clamps down on my wrist, ice shooting down my spine. Slowly, I turn my gaze to the woman, who is no longer convulsing. She lies there, completely still, her hand till tightly clamped on my wrist. In a blink, she shoots up, blood trails from her eyes and mouth across her face. Her eyes a sickly grey, and her skin as blue as the ocean. 

Her mouth hangs open, exposing her rotted, blood covered teeth. My heart stops, my skin growing numb. 

"Demon! Murderer!"

A sharp pain floods my chest, heat spreading across my skin. A sickly choke escapes my lips, blood beginning to pool in my mouth. With arms spread wide, I look down, seeing the woman's cold, blue arm through my chest. Blood coats her arm, and now the floor. The lifeless woman raises, her hand sliding from my chest. When she raises, my heart is in her hand. A wicked expression twists her features, her nails digging into the muscle. 

A scream shakes my entire body, the heat singeing my skin. I look up at the woman fearfully, tears running down my cheeks. She tilts her head to the side, as if her neck was broken. She lowers her face just a few inches from mine and smiles. 

"Burn in hell, Demon."

I shoot up with a gasp, my hands scratching at my chest. My eyes start to adjust, revealing the familiar room. I glance around the room, trying to absorb the fact that it was just a dream. The knot in my chest slowly releases, allowing me to regulate my breathing. Irritated, I throw the think blanket off and sit up. My feet connect with the cold wood floor, sending chills up my spine. 

I heave myself off the bed, grabbing the bedpost to steady myself. The room swirls and dips around me, feeling as if I were in a tornado. Using the wall as support, I stumble over to the mirror, staring at my bare chest. I use my free hand to touch over my heart, feeling it's rapid pace against my palm. 

A knock at my door sends reality crashing down on me, the once dark room filled with light.  "Yes?" I shout, rushing to find my shirt. "Sir, it's Ósmund. There are patients requesting that you come for treatment." A quiet 'A-ha' escapes my lips as I pull my shirt from the wicker basket, quickly yanking it over my head. 

"Just give me a moment to gather myself, I will be out." I shout, pulling together the rest of my attire for the day. I will need to stop at the storehouse to gather more herbs and leeches, no doubt. I have to burn the ones that I have already used. I stuff fresh herbs into the beak of my mask, making sure that there is plenty for the first visit. 

In one swift tug, I pull the mask over my head, quickly fastening  the straps behind my head. I yank my hat off the stand beside me and put it on my head, straightening it as I head for the door.  Before I can reach the handle, the door swings open, nearly hitting me. Ósmund looks at me with a panicked look on his face, hit finger pointing to something around the corner. I tilt my head at him, stepping out of the house. I follow his finger, my eyes meeting the carts hauling the deceased out of the town. 

"I know it is a lot of dead, Ósmund It would seem that it is stronger at night, killing them while they sleep." Ósmund sags his head, looking down at his feet. "Sir, when will it stop? So many are dying, and our efforts have not helped in the slightest." 

A pang of guilt strikes my heart, watching as the carts march out of town, one by one. "It is true that our efforts have helped very little. Sometimes I fear that we are doing more harm than good, but we cannot give up hope.  Someday soon, we will find a cure for this. Until then, we have to put on a brave face and help those who cannot help themselves."

I close the front door to my home and slide my gloved hands into my pockets, walking down the dirt path. Ósmund hurries after me nipping at my heels as we make our way to the storehouse. "Ósmund, have you been to the storehouse yet?" I talk over my shoulder, my eyes glancing to the young male. "No, Sir. I have stayed behind every time you or the others have gone."

I nod, looking back at the path in front of me. "You will go in for me today, I will wait outside. Should I fall ill, you will need to be able to do these things on your own." Under the mask, I can see his eyes widen.  As we near the outskirts of the city, the bellowing cries of the commoners echos off the empty buildings.

It is a sound I will never get used to.

I stop in front of the storehouse, leaning against the cold stone wall. Ósmund walks up beside me, looking at me for confirmation. "Do you know what to ask for?" "Yes, Sir." I motion my head towards the door, telling him to go in. He walks up the cracked steps, knocking sheepishly at the thick wooden door. 

"Enter."

With one last glance at me, he walks into the building, stepping like a mouse. As the door shuts, I heave a heavy sigh. I haven't had a moment to breathe since I opened my eyes. The nightmare still fresh in my mind, plaguing my thoughts. I have had many dreams similar to this one since I have returned to London. But never have they been so realistic, and have effected me after I have woken up. 

Today I have to work in the hospital for a short time, and I can not be distracted by this. 

I can't.