Other Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Sepia ❯ Plague ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: XswitchbladeX 
The Black Plague all started with just one small infected flea. With that one flea, it started a pandemonium.
One man wanders the street in total desperation. Wishing for the one to return for him.
Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 02.07.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 844 | Visits: 146 | Status: Completed
The Black Plague all started with just one small infected flea. With that one flea, it started a pandemonium.
One man wanders the street in total desperation. Wishing for the one to return for him.
Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Adventure / Angst | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 02.07.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 844 | Visits: 146 | Status: Completed
February 7, 2008Denise Labasano
Dead bodies littered the cobblestoned roads of this forgotten village. Many hid in their houses, isolated from the outside world, forced to stay inside because of what has happened. Children wandered the many alleys, trying to find scraps of food or anything to help them survive this now lonely life. A lone adult man walked this destroyed road, looking around at the destruction of what has happened. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief, protecting himself from the airborne disease that he now knows as the Black Plague.
Letting out a muffled sigh, he continued to walk on in a random direction, not knowing where to go. His black curly locks fell in front of his eyes as he intentionally avoided eye contact with the dying. He didn’t want to feel the sadness that he already had, because he already lost someone because of this disease. She was everything to him, despite whatever happened, they still loved each other.
“You can’t die,” he desperately wailed, holding onto her, despite her father’s objections. She just smiled, and held him,
“I have to,” she coughed, “I already heard the Lord’s voice, and he said it’s my time to go.” He shook his head, denying everything that she said, internally damning any heavenly being for taking her away from him. She breathed heavily, finally feeling her heart giving way as her body was soon breaking down, her head throbbing with the excruciating fever. He held her blackened hand, tried to keep any more tears from leaking from the tired brown eyes of his, wishing that there was a miracle.
“I love you,” she whispered, and sighed a great breath.
His trust for God was gone, and now all he sees is anger. Why did they take her away from him? He thought, sitting in an empty room, kicking a chair aside, not caring if it knocked anything over. Hours he sat there, crying, wishing for his beloved to come back. Then again, he feels that his time is coming that he’ll be with her again. His head throbbed with the familiar feeling of a fever, only ten times worse. His coughing grew more violent, almost to the point of coughing up blood.
Slowly and gingerly, he laid himself onto his bed, hoping for his death to be quick and painless. He drifted in and out of sleep, and when he finally gave up on sleep, he found that his neck was swollen. He felt nauseated, and every fiber of his being screamed in aching agony.
“This is what it’s like to die like this,” he mutter out load, as he just lied there, staring at the ceiling, anticipating his death. Wiping away old tears, he smiled to himself wistfully, “course then again, I get to be with you again, my love. Just wait.”
Hours turned into days, as he continued to wander the streets, waiting for the unfeeling grim reaper to come and take him away to the next world. He hoped that the grim would be nice enough to consider taking him to where she was, wherever that may be. She has been the only person on his mind ever since her death, and he hopes that this would help him smile again. Leaning on one of the buildings, he coughed, hoping that any time soon that he would meet his demise. His fingers darkened to the point where he can’t feel anything in his hands. His mind wavered, and his vision blurred. Back in the empty room he lied down on the bed again, dreaming again of meeting his love. Her raven dark flowing in the spring wind like it always would when they would stand in the fields. Picking apples off the trees and laughing while burying his face into her hair that smelled of lavender
. His eyes slowly opened as he felt a presence. A sudden chill ran through his spine and then throughout the rest of his body. His heart started clang against his chest as he knew who was there and for what purpose why there were.
“Anthony....” the voice sighed, draining every color from his face, “your time has come.” His dreams left him as realization hit him. Suddenly his head ache throbbed even more, like his skull was being cleaved into two.
“Where am I going?” he managed to ask. The Grim Reaper stood there, and held out his hand,
“A certain angel persuaded me to take you to the heavens,” the hooded figure hissed. Anthony smiled, and staggered forward, eagerly taking his hand. They walked into a portal that materialized out of nowhere, at first dim, but once they walked closer, he was bathed in a pure white light. He felt weightless, almost pulled from his broken and dying body, floating into the light that called for him, and then they were gone.
Dead bodies littered the cobblestoned roads of this forgotten village. Many hid in their houses, isolated from the outside world, forced to stay inside because of what has happened. Children wandered the many alleys, trying to find scraps of food or anything to help them survive this now lonely life. A lone adult man walked this destroyed road, looking around at the destruction of what has happened. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief, protecting himself from the airborne disease that he now knows as the Black Plague.
Letting out a muffled sigh, he continued to walk on in a random direction, not knowing where to go. His black curly locks fell in front of his eyes as he intentionally avoided eye contact with the dying. He didn’t want to feel the sadness that he already had, because he already lost someone because of this disease. She was everything to him, despite whatever happened, they still loved each other.
“You can’t die,” he desperately wailed, holding onto her, despite her father’s objections. She just smiled, and held him,
“I have to,” she coughed, “I already heard the Lord’s voice, and he said it’s my time to go.” He shook his head, denying everything that she said, internally damning any heavenly being for taking her away from him. She breathed heavily, finally feeling her heart giving way as her body was soon breaking down, her head throbbing with the excruciating fever. He held her blackened hand, tried to keep any more tears from leaking from the tired brown eyes of his, wishing that there was a miracle.
“I love you,” she whispered, and sighed a great breath.
His trust for God was gone, and now all he sees is anger. Why did they take her away from him? He thought, sitting in an empty room, kicking a chair aside, not caring if it knocked anything over. Hours he sat there, crying, wishing for his beloved to come back. Then again, he feels that his time is coming that he’ll be with her again. His head throbbed with the familiar feeling of a fever, only ten times worse. His coughing grew more violent, almost to the point of coughing up blood.
Slowly and gingerly, he laid himself onto his bed, hoping for his death to be quick and painless. He drifted in and out of sleep, and when he finally gave up on sleep, he found that his neck was swollen. He felt nauseated, and every fiber of his being screamed in aching agony.
“This is what it’s like to die like this,” he mutter out load, as he just lied there, staring at the ceiling, anticipating his death. Wiping away old tears, he smiled to himself wistfully, “course then again, I get to be with you again, my love. Just wait.”
Hours turned into days, as he continued to wander the streets, waiting for the unfeeling grim reaper to come and take him away to the next world. He hoped that the grim would be nice enough to consider taking him to where she was, wherever that may be. She has been the only person on his mind ever since her death, and he hopes that this would help him smile again. Leaning on one of the buildings, he coughed, hoping that any time soon that he would meet his demise. His fingers darkened to the point where he can’t feel anything in his hands. His mind wavered, and his vision blurred. Back in the empty room he lied down on the bed again, dreaming again of meeting his love. Her raven dark flowing in the spring wind like it always would when they would stand in the fields. Picking apples off the trees and laughing while burying his face into her hair that smelled of lavender
. His eyes slowly opened as he felt a presence. A sudden chill ran through his spine and then throughout the rest of his body. His heart started clang against his chest as he knew who was there and for what purpose why there were.
“Anthony....” the voice sighed, draining every color from his face, “your time has come.” His dreams left him as realization hit him. Suddenly his head ache throbbed even more, like his skull was being cleaved into two.
“Where am I going?” he managed to ask. The Grim Reaper stood there, and held out his hand,
“A certain angel persuaded me to take you to the heavens,” the hooded figure hissed. Anthony smiled, and staggered forward, eagerly taking his hand. They walked into a portal that materialized out of nowhere, at first dim, but once they walked closer, he was bathed in a pure white light. He felt weightless, almost pulled from his broken and dying body, floating into the light that called for him, and then they were gone.