User blog:Skylord Elberich/Stories - Chapter 8: The Plague Doctor

Oh, it appears I 'ave visitors! S'il vous plait, come in! You are the... collector, non? Oui, an' you 'ave come for my story. You must excusez-moi, my memory is a little, 'ow do you say, "rusty".

I was once one of the finest doctors in France, especially during the time of the Plague. I was able to cure any illness, from a simple cold to a dire case of comsumption, an infected wound to an inflammed lung, and I was the greatest barber-surgeon in the world. Would you care for a trim? Non? If you insist. People from around the world came to me, even from England! But one day, a disease came about which I could not cure. First came the sneezing, which lasted for a few days, at most. Then, they developed comedones on the face, under the arms and on the back, which in turn developed into boils, then green pustules, then ulcers that oozed a thick, burgundy liquid. Their skin turned azure, and their urine a dark shade of moss green. And then, after convulsions, projectile vomiting, and explosive diarrhea, they died. I tried all could: 'erbs, bloodletting, I even went to a witch for 'elp, but to no avail. As I grew desperate, I was approached by a man with a red hand. He said to me "I will help you cure this disease, and all others. For a price, of course." I agreed, as I was losing popularity, and my reputation as a healer was in danger. But, all too late, I found out what the price was. I found that my touch caused more harm than it previously healed. I soon left the field of medicine, to simply wander and, 'opefully, die. But, instead, I somehow thrived, as if someone, or something wanted me alive. And, then, to cut a long story short, I met the fears, they accepted me as one of their own, and decided disease wasn't too bad.

So, that is my story, monseur, on 'ow I became a fear! I 'ope we meet again. Also, you might want to do something about that infected appendix you 'ave. Soyez le bienvenu.