The Doctor's Curse [Commission]
His name was Etienne Agard, and he was overall a very quiet, very unassuming man, somewhere in his mid-thirties, with a tall and lanky build, sand blonde hair, and deep brown eyes that most felt were wise and insightful, and, according to most of his neighbors, he seemed to lead a very boring and unassuming life that they overall had no insight on. He held no parties or gatherings, he invited no one around to his home on a regular basis, and despite all of that being the oddest thing, since it was common for the rich to at least host some form of gathering at least once a month, he was a somewhat friendly and helpful person when spoken to, quiet and minded his own business when he was left alone. But they were clueless to his profession, to which only the eyes of the Lord could judge him, and he didn't even care much about that, for he was a Plague doctor, however he was completely aware that the "remedies" and "treatments" that he peddled held no ability to heal those who were suffering, capitalizing on those who did get better and claimed responsibility.
Etienne was a thief, a hack, using his station as a "doctor" so that he would be able to enter the homes of the sick, and, when the family stepped aside to let him perform his "miracles", he would rob the sick blind of many forms of valuable jewelry, clearing out of the home before he was caught, and because he wore a mask and used a pseudonym, he would never be caught. Afterwards he would take it to a very reliable fence that he knew in the more questionable parts of Marseille, where he we take it for cash, any amount would do, he didn't care as long as he got something, and then go home and pretend to continue to lead a normal life, knowing full well that what he was doing was wrong and not caring as long as he got to live comfortably. It was sinful, for sure, but for some reason the man got great thrill and pleasure from the deceit, the rush of adrenaline when his thoughts towards getting caught arose almost a drug to him, and he spent at of time using his skills to rip off his "patients" as efficiently and as ruthlessly as it was possible for him to do, the victims wo wracked with pain and illness that they could not notice.
And tonight was no different for Etienne, who continued along with business as usual, his current patient being such a grizzled old women that he was a bit surprised that she hadn't succumbed to old age or some other various forms of illness years before, but her daughter had requested him, had begged him to do all that he could, and he assured her that he would. Only to turn around and begin going through the old woman's possessions, pocketing every piece of expensive looking jewelry that he could find once the daughter had stepped out of the room, and when he was going through the old woman's bedside table, he was severely startled when her hand was wrapped around his wrist in an iron grasp that he could not shake. He swore softly under his breath, he could have sworn that he was being sneaky, he could have sworn that the woman was unconscious, and for a moment his mind allowed him to entertain the idea of smothering her with he pillow if she did not release him, and he was shocked, once again, when a strained, rattling breath escaped her lips as she made an attempt to speak.
"You are an awful, a despicable human being," she rasped out to Etienne, her steely grey eyes on his, though he knew that there was no way that she would have been able to seen him, and for a moment he made an attempt to try and shake free of her grasp, only to feel it tighten, her nails beginning to dig through his sleeve and into his skin. "You are no better than the vulture that you portray, circling above the weak and the sick, the dying and the mourning, ready to come down snatch up the most important parts that you can get your hands on, stealing any semblance of memory from those who are in pain for the one that they have lost, and you will learn. I hope that you will appreciate what it is that you will become, because you have brought upon yourself a fate that is worse than death, a fate far worse than even losing everything that you have, because when this curse is through with you, you will find that you have lost even more, more than anything you could have possibly dreamed of."
Her voice trailed off, the life faded from her eyes, and she released Etienne, her arm falling to the bed as she succumbed to her illness, laying dead in the comfort her daughter had tried to bring, and Etienne was shaking, though he wasn't sure why, clearly a tad disconcerted by the last, rambling words of a clearly delusional old woman. He cleared his throat and shook his head, stepping back and pocketing the last piece of jewelry that he still held clasped between his fingers, and turned and left the room, stopping briefly to wish the daughter his condolences, that he had done everything that he possibly could have, and then made his way into the night, still shaking a bit. He had never in his entire career of being a Plague doctor, heard anything so delusional, so insane, and the fact that he was still shaking was because the only thing that he could attribute it to was shock, denying vehemently that it was fear, because who in the world would be afraid of such a small, frail, sickly old woman who was clearly out of her mind.
Etienne stalked off through the night, trying to calm himself and clear his mind, figuring that he would call it for the night and head home, and as he walked, he avoided each square of candlelight that cascaded down from the windows above, lining the streets every few feet, as it was not too late for people to still be up and about. All that he knew that he wanted to do was get home and get out of his robes, get some sleep, and forget what that woman had said to him, forget the crazy look in her eyes, forget the feeling of her hand desperately clasped around his wrist as she made some sort of attempt to tell him off for his wrongdoings like she was scolding a child. What she had said certainly sound like a threat, but it was a threat that couldn't be held seriously due to the fact that the issuer was dead, and there was no way that there would be anyone would be able to carry it out because there had been no one else in the room to hear it, she hadn't lived long enough to tell anyone about it, and he shook his head.
It wasn't long before Etienne had managed to get into the backyard of his home, unlocking and sneaking inside before shedding his costume, hiding it in a secret panel in the wall of the hallway, and proceeded to go upstairs and up to his bedroom, extinguishing the few candles that remained lit as he proceeded to finish stripping off his clothes and climbing into bed.
?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?
The next morning, when Etienne awoke, he was in pain, everything hurt, his bones ached, his skin felt as if it were on fire, his muscles cramped, and his mind was searing as if someone was holding an iron hot poker against his brain, and he felt he couldn't move, and he let out a scream of pain through gritted teeth, muffled by his inability to open his mouth. It hurt, it was agony, it was unlike anything that he had ever felt before, his mind in that much more in pain due to the fact that it was so much to process, and eventually, after fifteen minutes, he manage to force himself to move, slowly sitting up in his bed, naked, his undergarments having been torn to straps, probably by him due to the unbearable heat he was feeling. It such a strange sight, especially when he stood there in front of his mirror, his skin burning a bright red, the heat that was radiating off of it near unbearable waves, and he held himself up against the wall so that he would be able to keep from collapsing, the dizziness that washed over him making it hard to keep his balance for any reason other than not hurting himself.
But then things began to get weird, Etienne's eyes narrowing at the sight of something on his skin, little black specks that freckled across it, making it seem like he had smallpox, and he moved a hand over his forearm, feeling each speck as some sort of raised bump, as if something were growing underneath the skin and threatening to tear its way through. It was odd, but he didn't get much of a chance to dwell on them too much before the burning sensation turned into one of pain, his skin feeling as if it really were being torn apart, and he let out another scream of pain as the bumps on his arm began to sprout literal, tiny feathers, coarse to the touch, but not too obvious on what they could be, or why. And then the words that old woman had uttered underneath her dying breath, that she hoped that he would appreciate what it was that he would become, and that he was no better than that which he was portraying, and it simply just clicked in the back of his mind, that he had been called to the bedside of a witch, and that he was being punished for the way that he lived.
He began to panic, scrambling around to find some semblance of clothing that he felt that he could wear out in public, when another wave of pain washed over him, not as bad as it had been the last time, but Etienne wasn't able to pay enough attention to tell the difference, but he was able to watch as.the feather that had sprouted across his skin grew large, slowly covering his skin. This was certainly not a fate that he wanted for himself, nor a fate that he would have wished upon anyone else, and he wanted so badly to fight it, except that he knew that he didn't know how, that it was hopeless for him to fight such evil magic that had been cast upon him when he himself had no knowledge on the subject, only knowing that he himself was a hack. He swore loudly as another wave of pain washed over him, only this time it was different, more focused towards his back, as if bones were shifting and growing, arranging and rearranging, but it stopped too soon for something to happen, and based off of the size of whatever it was, it was far too small for him to be able to see, even though he had an idea on what it was.
Etienne was about to start panicking again, when his stomach began to ache, as if he were hungry, as if he hadn't eaten in days and he was craving something, well, not just something, but meat, and he winced as another wave of pain grew more feathers, and he figured he could just go out and figure something out, just wear the suit, and he grunted as he dressed. He moved down the stairs of his home, grunting as another wave of pain caused more bones to shift, especially in his feet as his toes fused together and shifted around, making his shoes incredibly uncomfortable, and by the time that he made it to his back door, he opened it up and peeked out, not wearing his mask for fear of giving himself away, and looked around. And in the yard next door he saw his elderly neighbor, a man named Barrett, trekking slowly up his path and up to his door, heading in and leaving it open, clearly doing yard work, but the look of the man, his flesh, his eyes, it made the plague doctor's mouth begin to water, and he bit his lip as he turned and put on the mask, moving swiftly out of the door.
Another change, and he hiss as his face began to push out awkwardly, his mouth feeling clumsy, his tongue not working quite so well, and he moved faster, hopping the fence as clawed talons burst free from his shoes, digging into.the soft earth beneath him, and he began to move towards the door, his mind not on the neighbor, but on his prey instead. He snatched up a shovel as he moved to the door, and he moved silently into the house, working his way down the hall, until he found Barret standing in the living room, working on something, and he raised the shovel up above his head, ready to swing, when the man looked up at a mirror on the wall, seeing the hooded figure behind him, and he turned around to shout. But the shovel connect with him too quickly, knocking his head aside with a sickening crunch, and the elderly man collapsed without a word, the life fading for his eyes, and he couldn't help himself as he began to tear off his mask, his face pushed out into an awkwardly shaped beak, and he fell to his knees, staring down at the flesh of his victim with hunger.
But before Etienne could partake in his meal, another final wave of pain washed over him as more bones shifted, and his arms forced upwards, merging with the awkward looking wings on his back as they tore through the fabric of the outfit, his anatomy shifting more awkwardly as his body began to resemble that of a bird, and his face began to push out more into a beak. He tried to scream in pain, but it only came out as the call of a vulture, and when his transformation into the oversized bird came to a conclusion, he lashed out, tearing a strip of flesh from that man that was once his neighbor, he hissed in utter delight at the taste, chewing it as best he could before swallowing it down, and moving to the man's eyes.
?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?~?
When one of the neighbors decides to check on the elder, Mr. Barret, nothing could have prepared them for the sight, a man sized vulture strippong a skeleton clean of any meat, and with a scream of terror, she turned and fled, leaving the door open for the monster to escape, and as it took off, the sounds of demonic vulture cries filled the morning air.