Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabble 8

Date Written: 2017

It was pitch black. It almost looked like a tattoo except no one would get a tattoo like this. A black splatter around his right arm like spilt ink. A black splatter which was spreading, and fast. It had started as a blob and now was wrapping around his arm like an octopus tentacle. It was an infection which was his own fault and would be the death of him now.

Shawn exhaled as he looked up at his arm, lying on his back on an uncomfortable mattress and studying the pattern feeling slightly numb inside. It was Damjan's work, the zealot's skill at poisons and ability to manipulate virus and bacteria cells was well known, and the Master Vine had hired the cruel man for a reason. Shawn had helped deal with outbreaks from Damjan's concoctions before and now he was looking at the man's work on his own body. He was watching it start to leech into his being and giving him one week to hand himself over to the Brotherhood.

Shawn already knew what the virus was. Damjan had been using it for a few weeks now. The primary goal of the virus was actually to infect civilians to force them to join the Brotherhood's side or die a painful death. For espers like Shawn, a more painful future lay ahead. The Brotherhood did not take kindly to espers who had fought against their work.

More concerningly, Shawn hadn't fought Damjan recently. Which meant it had been Frostknife who had infected him with the virus/poison. Damjan must have developed a way to spread it through blood contact. Frostknife had managed to cut his hand during their last conflict. The cut was definitely the origin of the pattern. It wasn't healing either. It wasn't bleeding but the flesh was raw instead of scabbing over. Shawn should have gotten the wound checked out, not that it would have done a lot of good. Damjan's virus cells were practically impossible to destroy. The bastard, Shawn snarled tightening his fist. 

If he got his hands on Frostknife, he was going to strangle the man. This was Damjan's entire purpose in life. Frostknife was just a grunt like him though.

Shawn felt a tear run down his face and curled into a ball on his mattress, springs creaking as he did so. So much for escaping the city. He was going to be chopped up into little pieces alive on TV for everyone to see. Just like Gemini. Only Gemini wasn't actually dead. The Surgeon had pieced him back together only for them to repeat the process until Gemini had barely screamed. Shawn, like most of the espers who fought to protect humans, still wasn't sure if Gemini was still alive now or whether once the point had been made Vine had finally let the man die.



His home phone rang, the rings echoing in his mostly empty room. Shawn picked it up, the old thing on the floor next to his mattress, rubbing the tears away and steeling himself. He wasn't being cut into pieces yet and he had things to do now. The infection had started hurting and affecting Gemini after a week. He had until that long to... well to either close up his life or find a cure.



"What?" he croaked, not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. He had already sent a message out to the network to let the other fighter know about the new development in Vine's plan. People had to know. Some of the younger ones had already gone into hiding, what the brotherhood had put Gemini through was horrific.

"Arctic Breeze," Frostknife's honey-like voice greeted smoothly over the line. "You free?" A code that was known by every esper. It wasn't a meetup request, it was a 'can you talk without civilians overhearing' request. Even Master Vine didn't like civilians getting involved in the matters between the two sides. He just saw no problem with forcing them to become espers.