Wellington Street

In which we take a stroll down a very strange lane.


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Unknown Location "The Conversion"

“I have been trying to pace myself lately, but it has been very hard. There are so many sick people in the world. So many that need to be cured. But if I move too quickly I will reveal myself. The man the other night woke up while I was delivering the medicine. Anesthetic must have not set in. Bad that. That is okay. The shot was already in. Nothing left after that but to wait. Fifteen seconds of tussling later and he was alright. He was fixed.

I left him as that. He had much to do. A lot of systems shut down within the first hour and I am sure he wanted to make some phone calls. It is strange. No matter how long I do this most of the ones who are awake always want to reach out. While they still maintain something of themselves. I don't understand. They are going to finally be alright. Why would they ever want to dwell on the fragile, emotional creature they were before.

Before I left I adjusted my hat in the hallway mirror. Got it from one of the earliest of my subjects. Wide brimmed and plain. A wonderful hat for my wonderful face. My eyes, alight with light, shimmer in the darkness. My darkness. The darkness of my form. I am beautiful. Blank and beautiful. And soon the man will be beautiful too as the shadow covers his form. Dark and beautiful.

I left the new case by the front door. His new case. The syringes lined up in rows. The medicine. Oh the medicine. I consider placing it in my veins. I so want to feel transformed again. The loss of so much. A plunge, headlong into something terrible and horrifying. Oh how I miss the early days of it all. Awaking to my new face. My new needs. My new, steel case with my syringes. There are only a few left. After that I get to join the rest, but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the work.

There was the boy. My favorite. He woke up too. Only when I explained to him what was happening, instead of being scared he was happy. That is why I do what I do. Those little moments. Seems he welcomed the change. Had no one. His family was falling apart. And so for him I sat and watched the transformation. The paling of his skin. The shadow falling over his face, his hair cast in an inky black. He didn't even complain as his legs broke and cracked as his flesh extended to a proper height. Not a whimper.

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