He didn’t know what was going to happen, and the unknown consumed him like a hungry beast.  If Josephine truly was alright and all of this was just fears were demons that manifested in his head then he at least wanted relief from them.  Roana keeping him knowledgeable of the situation would ease his mind for certain. 

Roana closed her eyes, fingertips running around the dulled edge of the door, “I’ll let you know what I find.”

If that would calm him, then she would make the effort.  After all, as much as he irritated her at the moment, he was still her friend and she knew that if she was worked up and shaken as badly as he was then she would want answers, too.

“Thanks,” Red was relieved, “that makes me feel better. I hope she’ll be okay.”

“I do as well,” Roana bid Red goodbye and she retreated back into her house.

The warm air from the fire her mother had started enveloped her body and quelled the chill that hung in the air from the fog and coolness of the morning. Cooked meat and herbs filled her senses as her form was bathed in the warm light of the fire.  Clacks from her heeled, blue boots echoed along the wooden floors as she walked towards the kitchen.

Now that Redway was gone, she could focus on the task at hand. Roana allowed herself to cool down as she glanced around the house.  There were few walls and most everything inside was made of wood.  There were wooden chairs and a table, as well a couple of wood-framed beds that visitors slept in.  Shelves of herbs, bottles and vials that contained medicines that her mother used to store treatments for the pestilence hung on the white, nearly barren walls.

The scent of wood filled her senses, mixing with the cooking food that was being prepared. The objects in her house seemed far off, as if they existed in another dimension as thoughts of Josephine consumed her, killing off her warm feelings of sanctity within the confines of her wooden walls.

‘I have a feeling that there is something connected to Josephine’s episode. Whatever it is, I’m going to find out.’ 

Resolute, she clenched her hand and her visage transformed into a steely look of determination.  Roana walked into the kitchen with her head held high and perfect posture.  Her mother stood up from her position at the fire to take notice of her daughter’s demeanor. Thin, pink lips painted into a smile and she tried to look amiable and pleasant.

“Roana, are you going out?” Her voice sounded young, despite her being old enough to have a teenage daughter.

Roana’s mother was a short woman who wasn’t really what one would think of when they pictured a beaked doctor.  She was of small frame and had short, textured hair that was black and held the same blue-sheen that her daughter’s did.  She wore it on a short ponytail on the side of her head that stuck up in a clump of spikes.  Tendrils of hair hung down on either side of her face, framing it by curving in and bangs that were parted to the left completed the picture.  Almond-shaped eyes with long, black lashes closed as she placed her hands in front of her, laying her palms on her robin’s egg dress that fell off of her shoulders and cascaded onto the floor. Her features were almost doll-like in contrast with the look of the uniform she wore for her job.

“Yes, I’m going to visit Josephine,” Roana didn’t want to cause alarm, so she kept her in the dark about the current situation until she found some evidence.

“Be careful, there is a lot of bad air,” she walked to a shelf and reached up, and retrieved a white plague mask before walking up to her daughter and handing her the object. “You know what to do if anything happens. They have been especially ill lately.”

The plague was beginning to take more and more of a grip on the people of Conversion Town.  They were desperate to find cures and indulged in anything they saw fit that was claimed to heal both by charlatans and word of mouth. People lay dead in the streets, awaiting the criminals that had been recruited as cadavers to come and pick them up.  So many had passed that the graveyard became obsolete and bodies were merely dumped in huge pits to be burned. For the citizens, it was the only way they saw fit to contain the disease and keep it from spreading.  

Every day, the houses that bore the sign of the red painted cross grew in number.  Every day when she ventured out it was as if less and less people were engaged in their mundane activities.  She was living in the era of mass extinction, and there was no way for her to get out of the town so filled with misery and decay.

Even in the confines of her own home, little peace was offered.

“Yes, they are very distressed,” Roana stared into the reflective yellow lenses of the plague mask.  Its large, vacant eye holes stared back at her, as if it were peering into her very soul.

“For now, we’ll have to do our best as plague doctors to help ease them. Please, wear your mask so the bad air will not make its way into your lungs and infect you. There should be other doctors performing their duties and trying to help people,” her mother tried to ease any worry that she thought Roana would have. “You have been training and perhaps you can help them if they need assistance. If further cases arise or you feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, then my assistance may be required. We must try and preserve our people.”

No matter what, Roana was a doctor and even though her outing may simply be to see a friend, she had duties to perform. Above all things, she was a medical professional and business always came before pleasure. Moments passing could mean the difference between life and death.

Her mother knew that the other doctor, Victor, was probably around taking care of people. He often got up early in the morning to check on his patients and make sure that they slept well through the night.  He often brought them herbs and potions to make sure that their illness stayed at bay.

If he had a lot of work, it would have done him well to have assistance.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Roana questioned.

It seemed out of nowhere that she would ask such things, but the more she thought about Josephine’s situation, the more she longed for the opinions of others.  Perhaps, she too wanted some form of solace before she went to face the great unknown.

Her mother smiled a little and told her that her mind was open to all entities.  The world wasn’t always as people saw it to be. The most minor of infractions could convey an outcome. The woman gave the example of climbing stairs to perpetuate her logic, stating that perhaps as she reached the top or were descending to the bottom that she had fallen, but her mind simply refused to acknowledge it.

Instead of walking away from the stairs like she first believed that she was actually at the bottom, injured or worse. At any instance an illusion could break. Sometimes, the illusion could only be broken with the ice of death. At any moment people could snap from illusions and completely go black. 

One second, someone could be walking around with their friends and the next- nothing. Someone could wake up to something they never thought possible. It was good to never underestimate the fantastical.

“I guess you could call me cynical,” Roana brought the mask to her face. The smell of flowers flooded her senses as she strapped it down to her head.

“Roana…” Her mother’s voice trailed and her once placid smile fell into a frown. ‘I suppose I can understand why you wouldn’t believe in such things. In retrospect, I should be happy that you speak to me about them.’

Roana told her mother goodbye and exited the house, closing the door softly behind her.  She looked through the yellow-tinted lenses of her mask as she passed people who were walking the streets.  The town looked oppressive, as if it were sucked of all positive emotion.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen children playing and laughing…or heard anyone laughing at all.

Far off in the distance, the large hanging posts loomed over the town, threatening death at any slip up for the most minor infraction.  It weighed heavily on her heart. The floral smell from the herbs in her beak mixed with the pungent smell of death as she passed the occasional corpse in the street and cast them a glance of sorrow and sympathy.

‘Surely this isn’t the true nature of the situation. There has to be something else to it. Maybe she became ill. My mother noted that the pestilence is stronger than usual. Red can spout all of the senseless drivel he wants about these ghost stories being real but I don’t see it. I feel there is a logical explanation for everything. It’s just the ramblings of the delusional, paranoid or the infected or it’s contrived rubbish of over imaginative people who would do anything for a thrill,’ she pondered to herself as she came to the door of the house.

Josephine lived near the outskirts of town, in a quaint little house that was slightly more upscale than her own. Her parents were pretty well off and she could afford many things Roana could not. Roana held her fist up to knock on the door. Her knuckles made contact with the rough surface only to have it give way under her blow and swing open.  

It was as if the door had been left completely unattended to. That wasn’t like Josephine at all.  She wasn’t one to just leave her door open for anyone to come in and take what they wished in her house. She didn’t even leave the door open when she was in the living room or kitchen where she could see it clearly.

After hesitating a little, Roana peeked in and glanced around.  Everything was dark and no candles had been lit. It was as if the inside of her house had been swallowed in a dark abyss. Her eyebrows furrowed beneath the confines of her mask and she continued to scan the inside of the house. She felt odd about just going into someone’s home when it didn’t seem like they were even there. Unease overcame her before she spoke.

“Is anyone here? Hello?” Roana made her presence known and walked into the house.

As she made her way into the bowels of the building, she couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling.  It was as if someone was going to jump from behind any object in the house and murder her.  Roana was on edge but continued her way through the living room and kitchen, to Josephine’s room.  She couldn’t help but feel as if she were trespassing or that something was extremely off.

‘It seems further investigation is required,’ she thought to herself and called out Josephine’s name in question once more in hopes of getting an answer.

There was none.

It bothered her; the feeling wouldn’t die and burrowed itself into her brain where it cultivated.  It was dead quiet and felt like time stood still as she made her way to the other girl’s room.  

Slowly, she pushed open the door.  It was as if the rising sun had shed light upon her and her form was bathed in illumination. This room was the only one in the house that held any life in it whatsoever.

Yellow light dimly lit everything around her and Josephine was present.  She stood in the middle of the room, unresponsive and she was staring into space with a dazed, wide-eyed expression.  Somehow, the wavy-haired girl managed to get home from lying unconscious on the ground. She had even changed back into her white nightgown and let down her hair from its two buns. 

“Josephine?” Roana didn’t want to startle her friend, but she wanted to make her presence known.

Josephine still remained in place; the slightest turn of her head signified her acknowledgement.

“Roana, I didn’t expect you to come here,” Josephine’s voice was distant and hollow, as if she were some type of zombie or she was mentally absent from the conversation.

Roana took a few steps towards her friend with a worried expression.  Josephine didn’t sound alright.

“Are you alright? I heard you fainted and Red just ran off and left you,” she was still angry at him for doing that. It didn’t even matter if Josephine was safe now, who knew what could have happened to her if she had been there too long. Who knew how she had even gotten home? Did she walk or did someone bring her there?

There was a long pause before Josephine answered in the same tone she had before. 

“Have you ever felt like the world around you didn’t exist?” Josephine didn’t turn around. She continued to stare forward with a crazed expression on her face.

“What?” Roana paused in her movements.

What did that even mean? Why would she ask that out of nowhere? Josephine was definitely not in her right mind and she felt as if she had made a mistake coming to her house.

“That everything is fake or that your dreams felt no different than reality?” Josephine continued. “Everyone has had these thoughts. Has it ever passed your mind that we are all in a dream, but we don’t exist? That we’re trapped somewhere, forced to sleep in an unwakeable process of dreams? We’re trapped here until we die. Where do the ones who put us to sleep create a scenario where we die? Later, they discard us from a device we’re hooked up to.”

“They have sadistic minds and sometimes create graphic ways to die. They enjoy it. They love torturing people in their dreams. All of the horrible people have their own person to create a life from. Sometimes, the sick and twisted ones create a violent life where the victim is abused or immediately killed. Some have tried to tell others but they never listen. They are called ‘the insane’ or ‘stupid’ and other terrible things.”

“No one can ever reveal the true identity of the people and all of us are subject to their plans,” Josephine turned around after telling her twisted tale, spun with the tone of instability. 

She walked over to Roana and leaned in close to her as blue eyes stared into shrunken, green pupils, “I’ll tell you a secret. I’m new to it and my victim is you. Good luck trying to escape.”