In the town of Yoen, on a sidewalk, a boy was staring into a store. His face held within it curiosity.
As the boy gazed into the store, a group of teenagers approached, surrounding him.
Spotting them, Cain turned to face them. "Who are-"
They blocked Cain's mouth as his muffled yelps tried to break through. From there, they picked him up and brought him into one of the alleyways.
No one intervened, even as Cain tried to scream for help. People continued with their daily affairs, and they ignored his plight.
Cain was thrown onto the cold, damp alley ground. He shivered in fear as his mind hazed in confusion. He gazed up at his attackers, they were a group of six, all tall compared to him. Most had blonde hair, while others had brown.
Sinister expressions adorned their faces, instilling even more terror in Cain.
One of them stepped forward, it was the leader. "Well... well... well. What do we have here? A contaminant perhaps?"
Cain's face contorted with dread. He started to whimper and backed himself against a wall. The group inched closer, picking up planks, rocks, and a metal pipe from the ground.
The leader had a bat and with a look of thrill on his face, he raised it for a swing.
Swoosh! Crunch!
Cain screamed in agony.
The leader kicked Cain in the nose. The young child's vision recoiled, his vision blurred by tears forming. As he looked down, he saw blood dripping and collecting into a pool on the floor. Cain's vision then transitioned to see his knee disfigured and shattered, his skin a mix of purple and red.
The rest of the group approached, taking turns hitting and kicking him. Cain had no time to register anything as his body crumpled from the relentless abuse, hearing the cracks in his bones, experiencing the punches' against his bruising body. With blood swelling throughout, he felt like a balloon.
Oddly enough, the pain dulled the longer it went on.
The non-stop torment continued. It was only when Cain stopped screaming that the group lost interest and departed, refreshed from the violence. They left behind the disfigured body of Cain in the alley. They left the young child to rot.
Rats began scurrying out of holes to get a piece of Cain's dying flesh.
His body was leaking, all except for his head, which he protected well the entire time, leaving it intact to a degree. Stuck there, his body bled buckets. Worse of all, the pain returned and he could feel every ounce of it.
Cain, once an innocent child who knew nothing of the corrupted world, was fixed in place, unable to move or speak.
He looked more like a bloody pile of discarded flesh than a human being. His skin was stretched and strained so much that it loosely fit him. His bones bore the light of the midday moons from multiple areas.
Sitting there, his mind crumbled under the pain. A young boy had now begun his descent into hysteria. Why wouldn't he? It was a natural process of the human brain, a defense, a product of a deteriorating psyche.
In Cain's fracturing mind, his deafening yells echoed. Amid the chaos and madness, there were still a few coherent thoughts, unlike the others, still holding form to actual language.
Cain's eyes shifted as rats scurried across his body, some licking his blood while others had the confidence to eat his flesh. Even the weeds began to wrap themselves in his flesh and blood, sucking in the nutrients.
His vision turned red from the blood seeping into his eyes, his senses numbed as the excruciating pain disappeared and his hearing turned into pure ringing.
Cain's thoughts swirled, and new thoughts emerged. Anger, hate, and despair led to the front of these ideas.
In reaction to these notions, Cain's face contorted into a sinister smile. His eyes alone could make a grown man wary and fearful. His maniacal laughter drowned out all previous thoughts like a broken record.
After a while, his crazed state subsided, and his eyes became glossy and his mind slowed.
'T-This is how I die? But I don't want to die...please...no...'
He had passed out from blood loss.
...
Around the same time, Feick returned to the shop.
"How did it go... John…Where's the kid?!"
John sat up, he was resting his head down on a desk. "After we finished, I let him go look at the storefronts. He seemed happy and ran out. Didn't you see him on the way here?"
"No… I'll go look for him. Oh also! I don't have to pay for all this medicine stuff, right? It was on my mind on the way here, hehe." He scratched his beard.
"Treating the Contaminated is the law and I get paid by the Union for it. So no."
Feick's eyes lit up, and he clasped his hands together at the mention of free medical treatment.
"That's a relief! I'll be right back with the boy!"
He then headed for the door in search of Cain.
Walking down the street, Feick saw a few passersbyers turning their heads as they passed an alley, their faces losing color. Curiosity of the cause, he decided to investigate.
Clouds began to gather in the sky and block the moons' light.
When Feick too turned his head into the putrid alley, horror flushed his face as he peered down the dark, shadow-filled pocket. A pile of blood and flesh squirted and squelched like a fountain.
The child he had been talking to just a few hours ago now appeared so disfigured and gruesome that he almost threw up seeing it. Feick could understand, it was Cain from the clothes, that was the only tell.
Panicked, he rushed over and attempted to pick up the boy. Even after he succeeded in holding the body, Cain's limbs kept slipping through Feick's grasp, flesh drooping.
Both parties didn't speak, Cain was incapable of it and Feick was distraught. He couldn't find the will to speak, he instead grunted and made sounds of alarm.
Feick got Cain in his arms and rushed back to the clinic. When he reached his destination, John saw the thing in Feick's arms and his eyes widened in alarm. "What the hell? What is that?"
"I found him in an alleyway. You've got to help him, please!" Feick pleaded with tears in his eyes. It was hard to tell what emotions he was feeling at the moment.
"I... I have no idea how to treat this. Isn't he dead?" John brought Cain to an operating table and examined the pile of skin and broken bones.
"His ribs still have some shape. His organs are all damaged, but his heart and brain are in good condition! This kid has incredible luck!"
Feick's eyes brightened. "Does that mean you can save him?"
John frowned. "There's nothing that can fix this...but…"
The Plague Doctor started to reshape Cain into a more human form. It was akin to completing a puzzle, albeit a disgusting one.
John retrieved an ancient-looking box and explained his thought process, "My unfinished serum is stored here. While it's incomplete, It is instead volatile. In Cain's case, it might save him. With his luck, it's worth a shot."
John sounded rather apathetic as he spoke, other than when he mentioned his serum.
The truth was, he wouldn't waste his years of work on a boy at death's door unless it helped further his research.
Even Feick didn't object; as long as there was a chance, he felt he had done enough.
Neither of them had any hope Cain would survive. John's words brought a glimmer of hope but that was it, no, a better word was a speck of hope.
John administered the serum and observed Cain as he was thinking, 'If this works, he will either become a grotesque monster or a success I can use! Either way, it's good for me, even if it fails! I was having a hard time procuring specimens in this place too so this is perfect!'
Cain's body started to shake and contort, changing faster than John could process. His skin was no longer translucent but pure white. His hair turned darker, like the abyss itself.
Even his eyes dyed to a deeper color as they transformed into enchanting dark emeralds. During this entire process, Cain's body would creak and crack, making disgusting sounds no normal body could hope to copy.
John watched the changes with immense excitement; in fact, he was elated. Cain's body seemed to have mutated.
"Haha! This kid will be the perfect catalyst! With enough effort, I can make him into the perfect subject! To think the serum mutated and is adjusting his DNA!"
The changes slowed down and came to a stop. A normal-looking Cain was on the table. Unconscious.
John looked at him with pride. "It... it worked. Haha, I saved him!"
Feick was overjoyed and relieved. While John was so thrilled that his heart skipped a beat multiple times.
"Feick... this kid will stay with me from now on. I need to study him and figure out what changes occurred. I'll also take him in as a disciple. Keep this under wraps, and don't tell anyone." John treated Cain as if he were a treasure, his greed for Cain was insurmountable.
"Haha, no worries. It will be better with you... But, John, you know how the world works, nothing's free. Although we're friends, I found him first, so I can say he's mine to the authorities. Then, no one wins. So, how abo—"
Without a moment's notice, Feick gagged. Congealed blobs of blood escaped his throat. The clusters of putrid rose from the old man's esophagus, blocking his airways.
Feick stared at John with fear as his eyes turned red and his face warped purple. Before words could escape his mouth to plead, his throat combusted and bloody mucus-like substances dirtied the floor along with his lifeless body.
John stared at the corpse with disgust. "No one will know if a gravedigger goes missing, or care for that matter, haha! How lucky am I! How lucky indeed!"
His actions shifted, and his mood switched. The doctor grabbed a mop and began to hum a tune as he cleaned up the mess, appearing as happy as could be.