An ominous ring bellows from the bronze bell in the public square. A steam-powered carriage hauls behind it a wagon filled with bodies wrapped in a large tarp, protecting them from the ever-constant rainfall. Atop the church steeple sits a crow. Its beady eyes glance around the square like a spectator for the bleak scenery. As lightning crackles behind it, the crow flies off into the dark skies above the city.

A man in a black suit with a red tie and black top hat enters the grocer. The shelves that were once always fully stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables were now mostly devoid of any food. The man in the suit grabs a few of the remaining foods he can and sets them on the front counter. A portly man wearing a red and white striped apron with a five o’ clock shadow clicks on the cash register.

“Seems quite barren in here George. I just returned from my trip over in Wales. Why’s everything so gloom and doom now?” The man in the suit says.

The portly man glares at the man in the suit, tapping one last key on the register. A weary ding rings from the register.

“Jason… Did you notice anything when you returned? Anything at all on your journey back here to Belvedere?” George asks.

Jason taps his chin. Then a light bulb goes off in his mind.

“Ah now that you mention it! There were some wagons hauling what I think were… People? And many shops had shuttered their doors. A lack of any people out and about too. Bobbies were more frequently patrolling. Uhm… Posters I never bothered to get a closer look at. Oh, and I saw a strange pair of folks in black attire with these unusual masks on their face. Was there an accident? More rebels perhaps? A major attack on Her Majesty?”

George sighs as Jason looks to the price displayed on the register and puts the money down on the counter.

“No, Jason. For fuck’s sake it’s a goddamned epidemic!”

“Aye?”

“You heard me. Nary a week ago, reports were cropping up of folks comin’ down with some kind of illness. Started as but a few people in some boroughs. Next thing we know, that number starts climbing higher and higher by the day. Police shut down those areas with the most infected. Quarantined the poor bastards.”

George takes the money and bags the foods. Jason grabs the bag. His expression shows one of great concern and panic starts settling in.

“Dear God… It all makes sense now. Shite! I need to get back to my home!”

Jason bolts out of the store. George shakes his head and sighs, taking a seat in the chair hidden behind the counter to read a book.

Two pairs of black boots trod through a puddle on the sidewalk. A shivering man in a black poncho seeking shelter from the rain under an awning hides his face with a black cotton bandana pulled up over his mouth and nose gazes at the passing duo.

A black gloved hand raps on the door. As the doors open, the man with the sullen brown eyes simply nods and motions for the strangers to enter.

“Come quickly. This way.” He says in a panicked tone.

The sullen-eyed man leads the strangers to his living room. On the floor is an elderly woman convulsing and undulating. She’s covered up with a red-and-white checkered blanket. A pale white pillow lies where her head is resting.

“Please… Me grams just started actin’ up like this. I called for a bobby and he said he would call for help. You two… Must be the help, yes?”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The strangers wore midnight black robes with lighter black leather gloves and boots. The taller one had on a black hat with a buckle. Around his waist was a brown utility belt with several pouches, three syringes held in slots and a holstered knife. He also had an oak cane adorned with an onyx crow. The other one had a hood on. She brandished a serrated blade and held a brown leather doctors’ bag. Both of the strangers wore black beaked masks stuffed with various herbs. They looked to each other and nod.

“Step aside sir.” The woman spoke.

As the sullen-eyed man stepped aside, the two cloaked figures approached the elderly woman. The man kneels down to examine her. He presses two fingers to her neck despite her strained movements.

“Marianne. Please pin the woman’s arms down for me, will you?” He says.

“Certainly, Peter.” She responds.

Marianne approaches and gets on her knees over the woman, grabbing her wrists and pins her to the floor. Peter pulls out a small glass filled with a deep purple concoction. A tiny hole on the lid. He then grabs a syringe to fill it with the liquid, flicks the tip of the needle and jabs it into the convulsing woman’s neck vein with precision.

The woman’s joints start to slow until her entire body goes still. Her eyes shut. Marianne lets go and stands up. Peter remains at her side as he puts the jar and syringe away. The sullen-eyed man inches closer with his hands cupped together.

“Wha… What did you do?” He asks.

Marianne looks to him, crossing her arms.

“Peter dosed her with a serum. ‘Rainmaker.’ It’s still experimental but we’ve had some success in evicting the plague from victims. It all depends on how their body handles it… As of its current state, it’s a coin toss if it will succeed.” Marianne explains.

“A c-coin toss? So, you’re unsure if it will even help her?!”

“Sir please calm down. This epidemic is spreading fast. The symptoms exhibited by victims of the sickness point to a few different potential known diseases. Rainmaker is the only currently known medicine concocted that can treat these specific diseases.”

Peter stands up to face the sullen-eyed man.

“Researches from the Institute are still working hard in their research to narrow down just what exactly is not only causing this spreading illness but to narrow it down-“

Peter stops talking to glance down at the elderly woman who starts convulsing once more. Her movements are even more erratic than before. Pained groans escape her chapped lips. Marianne shakes her head.

“Well bollocks. I’m sorry sir but… I’m afraid she’s a lost cause. Marianne if you will. And sir… You may want to look away.”

Marianne pulls out her serrated blade and kneels down next to the woman. The sullen-eyed man looks in horror.

“What are you…?” He pauses.

Marianne pulls out a cloth and covers the woman’s mouth before gently slitting her throat with the blade. Blood pools from the neck and onto the floor. The man falls to his knees. He’s in utter disbelief.

“Another one… Shame.” Peter says.

Marianne and Peter go to pick the body up and haul it out of the home. They lay it down on the sidewalk. The sullen-eyed man stands at the door, watching the two doctors silently pray while standing over the body. He presses a hand to his head, shaking it. Tears are streaking down his cheeks.

A few minutes of silence pass until a carriage passing by hauling a wagon stops in front of the home. Two men in raincoats step out, seeing the body and going to pick it up. They toss the body up into the wagon, shoving it back enough to where it won’t fall out. Peter and Marianne nod silently to them. They nod back before hopping into the carriage. It starts heading off down the street.

“Why… Why did you have to do that?” The sullen-eyed man sobs.

Peter and Marianne turn to the man. Peter’s arms are behind his back. Marianne’s hands are cupped together in front of her.

“This plague is airborne as far as we know. If an infected is not cured, they pose a threat just by breathing. So, we silence them. Only then are they no longer a threat, and their body can be hauled off to be burned in a safe location.” Peter explains.

“Sorry sir. But this is for your safety and the safety of the public. She was not compatible with the serum. The infection was far too severe. Just… Be happy she’s in a better place now. We should be off then.” Marianne adds.

Peter tips his hat. Marianne nods. The two doctors depart from the vicinity. Meanwhile, the sullen-eyed man is left speechless. He wipes his eyes and slams the door on his way back inside.