She said I could help people. In that moment she was the only thing I could consider hope. The moment she approached I screamed at her, more so in pain than anger. Tears streamed down my face, I could feel the water trickle into the caverns forming on my cheeks from decay. My arms felt like they’d fall off if I moved them, my legs had already buckled into the dirt beneath me. Nothing around me was alive. There was a creeping circle of decay radiating from where I sat, where I chose to die. But I wasn’t dying.

She took a step into the decay, cautious, like someone walking on ice. Her hand reached towards me, it was, monstrous, but so was I. She had an empathetic smile, her eyes studying me closely. She was an intense silhouette, not far off from a demon of sorts, but she was the only one bothering to give me the time of day.

“What’s your name?” She said.

I flinched away from her hand as it got close, “You don’t want to do that.”

She looked at me, then at the ground, “I think you’ll find I don’t die that easily.” Before I could protest she pulled me into her arms, it hurt, like she was touching a burn all over my body. I hadn’t moved in days and my body reminded me so. I watched her arms and body carefully as she carried me, the rot would creep from myself and onto her, and then receed just as quickly.

She smiled down at me, although masking a bit of pain, “See? You’re not the only one whose special.”

I scoffed, “You call this special? I can’t even die.”

“I’d say you’re lucky for that. We can’t choose the way the magic affects us, but we can choose what we do with it.”

I felt exhaustion creep over me, the swaying of her gate rocking me to sleep, “I want.. to help people.”

That was over 3 years ago now. Since then I’ve taken her advice. This ‘magic’ as she calls it can be utilized in a productive way. I’ve even managed to learn how to control it. I bound my hands in medicine gauze before pulling thick gloves over them, followed by my medical coat and plague mask, funny how familiar this all feels.

Day after day I’ve been helping her residents. They’d come in with random issues, nothing I couldn’t handle. Somehow this knowledge came to me easily, even if my patient wasn’t all that human anymore. It was peaceful, to say the least.

“Kure!” She burst into my room, I’ve only seen her panicked once, it took a lot to make her panic.

“What is it?”

She composed herself on the outside, “Something is… wrong. You better take a look.”

I’m not sure what I was expecting when I stepped into the hall. A familiar stench of rot immediately crept past the dried herbs in my mask, dozens of residents I had helped laid on medical beds, some leaned against the walls, all with rot somewhere on their bodies.

I stood there dumbfounded, confused, and then angry.

“I told you it wouldn’t work.” I said lowly. I felt her gaze fall on me, it was cold. “I told you, this was the best I could do with this, this curse!” I felt the gauze beneath my gloves withering. It always got worse in time with my emotions.

I felt her hand on my shoulder, “We’re still learning. We can fix this.”

“How could you know. I’ll just end up killing everyone that’s here.”

She was silent.

“You should’ve left me where you found me.”

She thought for a moment, “Kure. I don’t take kindly to those who think I’m wrong. But I’m willing to overlook it, because right now? You’re the only chance I got to save these people.” She forced me to meet her gaze, “Please, tell me what we need to do.”

To think I’d have a queen begging me for help. I looked at her face, and then again at her people behind her. Slowly I nodded, “Fine. Fine. Get me my supplies, and I’ll see what I can do.”