Blake burst through the doors of the church, and froze in place.
No one stood, and nearly half the patrons he noticed moments ago had already collapsed, with little pools of dark liquid spread around the floor. He so rarely saw blood, but something about what he saw didn't look normal. Some of it almost carried this eerily grim black hue, as if it was impossible for a human to have spewed up. He could already smell the horrid stench wafting into the air, and Blake covered his mouth and nose to avoid any vomiting compulsions. Did that man somehow do this to the townspeople? His people?
I have to help them! That single thought forced him to swallow, and muster every bit of strength as he rushed forward. So many people were convulsing or appeared disoriented that there was no way any of them were in a stable state of mind. He felt sick to his stomach approaching this awful blood and the sick patrons but he pressed forward. Blake dropped to his knees and began feeling around the pants pockets of a now-unconscious man; he thought it looked like the runner he'd encountered some nights ago. But that didn't matter right now.
As soon as he felt something, Blake pulled out a wallet. Useless. He fished the man's pockets again, and opened up the flip phone soon as he found it. Three buttons later he brought the device up to his ear.
A busy tone rang, and Blake grumbled in annoyance, frustration...and this unshakeable fear. This was no time for the line to be busy.
"Come on, come on..." He could feel the panic rise in his chest with every passing second of the same tune on the other end of the line. An unease sunk in, and he was sure his irregular breathing caused slight dizziness, and a painful knot had settled in his stomach.
A loud hacking caught his attention. Once Blake spun around, he watched a middle-aged woman hold her chest with a tight grip as she coughed and spat on the floor beneath her. And what she heaved was...a blackish-red liquid. It was a horrible color of blood that should not exist; something about it looked all manners of wrong. The woman convulsed horribly a couple more times, then fell back on one of the benches before coughing some more.
This isn't happening. This isn't real. The panic seized him even more. Why won't somebody pick up? Oh God, they're going to die right in front of me and all I can do is stand here and wait. They can't even tell that I'm here. I can't...I can't reassure them. Or me-
"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"
He almost did not register the words from the operator, but he did not miss the worry in the individual's voice. No, forget that; these people needed his help first and foremost. "Y-yes," he stuttered, pausing to swallow and compose himself. "I'm at the Hill Church, o-on Braxton. A bunch of people started coughing blood, but...it's not blood...please, they need medical help now."
"Okay, just keep calm." Was that suggestion intended for Blake, or the operator himself? He could not tell at the moment. "All three ambulances are busy at the moment, but I will inform them that-"
"Hurry!" Blake shouted. "There's a dozen people that are really sick, and they need ambulances, now!"
"I am aware of that, we all are," said the man in a cool tone. "What's your name, young man?"
Blake could barely make a sound in the seconds that followed. A part of him forget his own name, but the other part was too driven by panic to respond. How could he explain his presence here? Even if it wasn't too far from where he lived, he dreaded anyone asking why he had left his home without an adult looking after him. Maybe once ambulances arrived, he might be quarantined, but he was the only one who knew about that stranger and his dark powers...
He didn't think twice when he ended the call with a single button click.
Damnit, why did I do that? This entire day had gone all wrong. The Shadows, the sickness that suddenly spread in the church, the man and his strange words about him being "marked" whatever that meant-
Wait a minute. That wasn't the only thing that man said.
I'll have a predecessor who knows... He could not wait any longer. The scythe, the Shadows, and now the stranger's words. He had to talk to his mother, now. Alisha had to know something about what was going on.
He used the phone to find a number online, and dialed it. Like before, a busy ringtone emitted from the other end of the line. Blake groaned and paced for what felt like hours, not wanting to do this yet again. He waited, and waited, longer than the first phone call. He could only pace around the sickly group, feeling a churning in his stomach but helpless to actually do anything useful that could relieve these people of their suffering. The busy tone continued for ten seconds, then twenty more seconds.
How long has it been now? I can't keep waiting, this won't help anybody! Every passing second felt like a season for him. His senses would no longer process any sounds or sights happening around him, and he felt at a complete loss as he did nothing but stand...
"Heights Hospital, do you have an emergency?"
Blake's vision focused up at the church benches and he halted in his tracks, forgetting he was pacing at all but not caring. He got through! Though, for a moment his mind drew a blank, and his mind screamed at him until he remembered.
"Hi, yeah, um...I-I want to know if, um, Alisha Douglas? Is she still in the hospital?"
"I'm sorry, there are a lot of patients right now." Her voice almost sounded a bit muffled as she spoke. "I cannot check on every one individually at the moment because of overcrowding-"
"Please, she's my mother!" he blurted out, his voice beginning to choke. "I haven't been able to find out about her for a week and I'm the only one at home and I don't know what I'm supposed to do! Please..."
No response. But he had never felt more desperate in his life as he begged for knowledge on his mother's condition. The truly overwhelming nature of this entire situation had finally dawned on him: he was barely a teenager, how was he supposed to handle any of it? And suddenly without his mother and without his friends...he felt so powerless and utterly confused.
"Alisha Douglas..."
Blake's heart skipped a beat, shocked upon hearing the start of a response.
"...that name does sound familiar. Can you give me a moment to check?"
"Yeah, yeah..." Not the answer he wanted, but something was better than nothing right now. The other end of the line fell silent; he was glad that music did not play in the meantime. He did not know exactly what she did to check for information, nor did he have a guess as to how long it would take. Even so, every few seconds of silence felt like torture for him as the unease pushed on his chest.
"Okay, here's her file." Blake pricked up and listened intently now as she continued. "She's not displayed the same symptoms as everyone else that's quarantined in the hospital, but her extensive medical history is worrying. It's probably why she's been cordoned off from other patients for a while."
"Yeah, she....she's been weak and sick for a long time. But, still able." His hands twitched and his pacing intensified.
"She's also been in and out of consciousness since her arrival. I'm sorry I didn't recognize her name initially. She's come in over the years for dehydration, low blood pressure, fainting spells. But...do you know if this near-comatose state is new? I'm sorry to be blunt, but it's important."
Blake had no idea how to respond. Usually, whenever his mother had her episodes, they occurred at work, when he was at school, in the middle of the night. More often than not he wouldn't find out about it until afterwards. Suddenly, he could not remember the last time he actually watched her faint or fall
Has she been able to avoid doing it around me after all this time?"Are you still there?"
Her voice brought him out of his trance, and once he processed her question, he stuttered as he tried coming up with an answer. "Y-yeah, I..." Come on, focus! "I...I don't know anything about it being this s-serious. She'd get dizzy and lose energy and lay down. But never that bad for long periods of time."
"I understand. She is being monitored at least, and her vitals haven't dropped...I'm sorry, that's all I can find out at the moment."
"Y-you said she's slipping in and out? Is she awake now?" His heart pounded while he asked the question.
"That I don't know. She's housed three floors above me so I couldn't tell you for sure."
"Is it, is it possible for me to see her?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know. If you were decontaminated and wore protection...the hospital isn't letting many people in right now, we're very overcrowded as is."
Blake's heart all but sank. He just wanted a moment with his mother. He felt completely and utterly lost. Even if he was only given a minute to speak with her or stay at her bedside, it's all he would need. He would do anything at this point. She's not sick like the others. She won't die. She can't die. I won't let that happen.
"Anyways, that's all I can tell you for now. I have to get back to other patients-"
"Wait!" Blake's own train of thought made him remember. "Can you maybe check one more name for me? If you have a moment?"
"Possibly. What is it?"
"June. June Cordon."
The pause following his response did not last long, for soon after the woman replied. "Actually, I do know that name."
She spoke so quietly, and with such a solemn tone behind her words. Blake's insides twisted around, and remained frozen in place after a couple of seconds. "What?" he finally croaked, barely able to push the word out of his throat.
"She didn't come up with symptoms...but she did start developing them only hours ago. Her condition has declined since."
His blood turned to ice, and every heartbeat that went by creating another heavy pang in his chest. His knees felt weak, and he thought he might just collapse onto the ground right then and there.
"She's not critical last I checked, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago? We are certainly hoping and praying for that young lady, like the rest of the patients here."
Blake couldn't even respond. The woman only said the honest and brutal truth, while simultaneously lifting his spirits the best she could. But she did not know what he knew, could not see what he had seen.
And that terrified him.
"I'm sorry, that's all I can say for now. I have a lot of patients so I...yes, I had to take a quick call......"
He did not listen to her any further, and suddenly the line was cut off. Blake stared at the church carpet, his arm slowly lowered until it hit his side, and the phone dropped to the floor with a brief crack. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't do anything. His lips quivered and the tips of his fingers twitched; he ignored the strange sensation creeping up his spine and his mind lost all focus.
A soft hiss echoed through the eerie church corridor.
The sound was unexpected but not startling, and it did pull him back to reality if only for a moment. Slowly, Blake lifted his chin and turned his head. A shadowy creature peeked through the open church doors and gazed right at him. For the first time that day, that week even, Blake retained full control of his body with sharp intake of air, and the purposeful tensing of every single muscle in his body.
That strange man from earlier was somehow responsible for the blight overtaking his town, and the Shadows were linked to him in some way. The man's appearance had followed not long after these dark creatures first showed up in his hometown. All of it connected together, and he was determined to find out how. That single thought allowed him to take the first step towards the exit, right towards the creature.
The Shadow fled as soon as Blake moved, and the creature disappeared by the time he made it to the doors and breathed in a faint but sickly sweet smell in a gentle wind. He scanned every inch of the church's front lawn, the sidewalk, and the neighborhood beyond on the other side of the street. He would not let anyone or anything stop him from reaching his destination; he cared not that he would have to make the entire trek on foot.
A strange glint in his eye caught his attention, and he squinted. In the distance, by some trees at the edge of the neighborhood and make two blocks away, some Shadows gathered together in a black and almost formless clump. Something else stood up amidst the fray of gaseous darkness however. The source of what drew his attention: the faint gleam of a curved blade.
There was little hesitation on his part when he made the precision to bolt right for the group of monsters. They all noticed his approach and frantically tried to pull and carry the scythe away. But their small forms could somehow not handle the weight of the weapon, and could not carry it far before every one of them scrambled away when he got too close. A moment later Blake reached out, and pulled the scythe around with a confident swing. The Shadows continued to flee, but right now he did not care. His next destination was his top priority, he could no longer second-guess on that. Instinct drove his senses and and desires, and without another thought Blake began running.
With the scythe clutched in one hand he held behind himself, Blake tore down the sidewalks and headed straight for the hospital, aware of the call of sirens in the distance.
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