Origin Of the Plague Doctor

OrIgIn

(I'm amazed this got ANY views, I made this story MONTHS ago!) I stared blankly into the empty clearing spreading quite a distance from this dank lifeless stone arch of a cave, reaching far back from the entrance and ending in a rigged wall. The light tried to bleed through but the ragged arch stretches in separate directions, preventing light from reaching the inner cave. I have to stay here... why, you may ask? I am a mere monstrosity, a vile scourge among the people. I can be HUGELY hostile, containing a dangerous, sometimes lethal, animosity. A darkened, unsettling cover slowly sinks down across the landscape. I clutched my knees up to my chest holding the mask... the stupid mask that covered my ripped open face, marked with a crusted wound.

I look at you with a wavering smile, and stand up on wobbling, quaking legs. It is time for you to learn the bloodbath drowned truth. Your vision fades to a empty blackness as you are transported into an old rundown village where you see a tall stocky man standing on bare, dry and cracked earth with a young boy innocently smiling. The man is the boy's father, looking down on his bright son with a broad smile. You can hear a woman's voice, soft and gentle, beckoning the two inside. I walk up behind you and firmly grip your shoulders and shove you into the house, I can feel you're fear of being noticed, but I push you right through the closed door, heading straight through to convince you that you are nothing but a phantom, unseen, unheard, unfelt by the organisms. The boy smiled, and I feel you're unease as you fret that something will happen to you.

You are then transported to the boy's room, with him sleeping hauntingly quiet, only his chest heaving for any visible movement. I push you forward and he starts to react in sporadic movement, gripping at his head which twists sporadically, making it obvious that he was experiencing a fear inducing nightmare. You hear him mutter in almost inaudible speech,

"St...stop... s-stay away...! Leave me alone!"

You try to twist free of my nearly crushing grip on you're shoulders, but you almost fall off the dusty platform as a 3rd transportation was being fulfilled. During the process you see twisted images, leaving you to endure the same nightmare as the boy as the world solidified. You tremble as you see the violent scene going on in front of you. The boy's face was being repeatedly slammed into the brick wall, causing him to let out screams of pain as his eye and around it was obliterated off his face, leaving him half blind and grasping his face crying though all that leaked out the utterly ruined part of his face was pus and blood.

The stranger grabbed the boy's face and shoved a bowie knife into one side of his mouth below the ruined eye. The knife was twisted and dragged, cutting all the skin and hitting painful nerves until his teeth were visible mostly with dark warm blood sliding down. You stare in shock and symphony. A loud gunshot makes you're body jolt in alarm and the stranger hits the ground gasping for a few seconds, then slowly closing his once hate and greed filled eyes. You see the aged mother and father running as fast as they could, the father nearly crushing his trembling son. He whispered softly,

"It's OK son.... It's OK...!" His eyes were clouded with sorrow.

His child looked at him with oily tears leaking down his face. "It'll never be alright, father,"

One more transportation is completed, and the boy stands there shaking, full grown. He runs a hand against the lower side of his face, pulling it away afterwards and looking at the broken bits of crusted blood laying in his hand. He looks up and grabs a white mask with a long beak, a dark hat, a nearly black cloak, and a container of tools such as scalpels and needles. I grab you by putting both hands on either side of your face.

"I thought of the black plague... an event that took the lives of many, I wanted to become a walking plague among humanity, I am the Plague Doctor," I whispered, turning your head further than it should go at an alarming speed until your neck cracks and you fall to the ground face first. "Goodnight, my dear..." The scalpel slices.

(This is a short story I wrote earlier in 2014.)