The Haunting of Mary King's Close (No longer writing)

BOOK ONE: Chapter Eight

A beaked mask, leather robes and dull knives made their way throughout the Close; visiting each infected home and falsely curing the poor victims. They were accompanied by a cross and bible words slipping from the young, inexperienced doctors mouth. "I bless your soul against this horrid disease." He chanted in front of each sick bed before pricking the ill people and watched in disgust as their blood trickled into the insubstantial bucket below.

"Just one last house. You can do it, Louis." He said to himself. He took a deep, relaxing breath before he walked up a withering staircase and entered into the diminutive home.  With the orders of the supposed father, he set up his work on the table and prepared the younger boy.

With light fingers and scorching eyes, he searched the boy's body for the black prize.  He found it under the armpit.

The sore was bigger than his fist and seemed to have a pulse of its own accord. It was round and bulged away from the natural curve of the arm; sticking out to the point where the boy could now lower his arm. The sore was a deep black and in the centre a clear yellow substance oozed from a small opening and little trails of dried blood rested on the surface.

"Gonna hurt?"  The boy asked unenthusiastically. At the same moment he coughed into the air, spraying the humours around.

Louis answered with; "No more than it does already." He pulled the boys arm straight and told him not to move it…no matter how much it hurt. The boy nodded with more fear in his eyes. Louis then set the bucket underneath the arm in its spatter area. "Are you ready?" Louis asked, gripping the point in his shaky hand.

The boy nodded.

            Louis pressed hard the knife against the black swell. With a popping sound, yellow cream spilled from the deflating puff. It streamed down the boys side and made ripples against his ribcage.  After the cream was gone, blood flowed out and made a cover against the yellow substance. The boys face contracted as he closed his eyes away from the sight.  But he made no cry of pain and only short breathes.

Louis then grabbed the boys arm and stuck it out straight with the elbow facing down.

"Are ye sure ye can dae this?" The other boy moaned from the bed. He was leaning against the wall and was as pale as the moon. His eyes were half closed and his being was drained. 

"Ya." The younger snapped back and gave Louis a look to carry on.

Louis pushed the knife against the boy's silky skin until blood spurted out. He slid the point down an inch; cutting into new territory. The blood slid down in clean lines on the boy's skin and dripped into the bucket with circular patterns. It splashed against Louis's beak and slipped down his leather clothing to form marred patterns. 

An ear aching scream escaped from the boy's mouth.

***

Gregg opened his mouth and let out a shaking scream. He held back nothing and let to stab the air with gusto and penetrate his family's ears with hatred. He cried dark notes slurred with blurry words. His clear, bloodshot eyes popped out of their sockets and examined his arm with great detail and mixed desperation. The blood pushed against the knife and rushed down his aching skin. It circled on his clothing and missed the bucket.

Unable to stand the pain anymore, Gregg took his arm away and cradled it against his body. His pleading shouts transferred to frantic sobs and hushed into softer whimpers. The beaked man jumped back at the instant, piercing sound of Greggs demanding screams and drew away at the bitter weeping. He fumbled with his utensils, stuffed them into his sac and rushed out the door.

"Ye Bastard!" Niall screeched after the doctor. "Still hurtin'!" The man forgot to sew the wound back together and properly finish the procedure. But he did remember to leave Gregg bleeding painfully.

Finlay, charged with the screams energy, moved from his spot and slowly crawled in between Gregg and Cora. He wrapped his arms around each of them and hugged each tightly. His touch was like someone tapping their shoulders with an icy finger. His teeth knocked against each other and across his body, little bumps grew with shudders. His breath was airy, exasperated and emerged in miniature silky puffs against his ripped lips.

Cora leaned against Finlay and pressed her forehead to his arm. Fire ran through her veins and sweltered beneath her epidermal. Balls of sweat clotted upon her hair line and dripped down the bend of her temple. Her breath came in quick, beating pants.

Niall joined the affair quickly and covered his angels in a loving embrace. "When Ah was a wee lad…" He started his story in a hushed, soothing tone and they basked in the glorified memory of how life used to be, not so long ago.

But Niall did not get far when Finlay and Cora each deposited their stomach into the bucket over and over again. They walked the path that was still fresh with Gregg's lethargic tracks. With each second that strummed on, their bodies cascaded away and their minds wandered into nothing. They slipped into a null mode of sitting and taking in each other's wordless company.

By the time, suns glow faded to a gray lightless tone, the pace of Greggs flowing blood lightened from a heavy pump to a sluggish drain. Cora had fallen into a breathless state of neither awake nor asleep. Finlay traced corners with his eyes and counted objects in the room until his brain melted into confusion.

It was almost peaceful with no movement, sound or complaints of sickness. It was just the four of them embracing. They pressed their bodies to the mattress and their minds were nulls by silent sleep.

It started with a cough.

The violent, painful thrashing spread through Gregg's contorted body and gained control of his essence. His lungs pushed against his delicate ribcage and his throat turned into a scratched red wooden board. He wheezed strained notes and barked hopeless whines.  His hand clutched the thin fabric over his heart and his rugged nails clawed at the skin below.

The blood trickled into his mouth, grinded in between his teeth and soaked into his tongue. With the next aggressive cough, the blood sprayed into the air in a dark oozing sheet, and landed upon his siblings.  The blood pressed onto their skin and added to the grime.  Gregg's eyes washed burgundy and darted over every surface in the room.

It ended with a cough.

Gregg's body trembled and suddenly stopped.