"There’s no need to be afraid. You are cured. Go ahead and greet your family."
And, almost as if that was the cue they were waiting for, everyone exploded forward. The family— the orphanage— all embraced each other. Clasping hands tightly around each other into a massive group hug.
"My children… how I’ve missed seeing all of you."
It was a heartwarming scene; something straight out of a movie, right before the credits began to roll. I almost expected to see a title screen pop up, as sappy music played in the background.
I watched this happen, standing off to the side. I probably should not have been here for this, but I was too engrossed in the moment to care. However, everyone— myself included this time— was taken out of the moment by loud shouting come from the outside. I knew what to expect even before Ms Sharity spoke.
"Oh no," she said, voice filled with dread. "Everyone, please wait inside. I’ll go out and talk to them."
"We can’t just leave you—"
"Listen to her, Jay." The teenage boy nodded at the woman. "I’ll wait by the front door. In case anything happens."
"Thank you, Eaton."
The family began to move. The younger kids ran off to hide in a room, while the older ones like Hannah, watched from the living room windows. Jay on the other hand, came up to me with a scowl on his face.
"That Eaton, he really…" he trailed off. Then his eyes flickered to something on my waist. "Melas, I need—"
"I’m not just giving all my gold to a bunch of debt collectors, Jay. Especially not for strangers." I answered before he even finished speaking. Perhaps I was being too blunt, but that was the point of why I came here in the first place— to keep both my money and a clear conscience.
"Fine!" Jay snapped, throwing his hands up in the air. "Then I’m going out there and letting them take me. I can’t let them hurt Ms Sharity."
"Stop being so rash," I said, drawing my dagger, "if the worst really comes to the worst— I’ll deal with it."
He hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded. "If you say so…"
I walked past him, up to the front door. I waited right behind Eaton, who was standing a few feet outside, while too focused on the conversation between Ms Sharity and the group of men to even notice me. I listened in too, as the woman pleaded.
"...but I only ever borrowed 5 gold coins from you over the years! And I’ve already paid back more than half of it. How could I possibly owe you 20?!"
"Sorry Miss," one of the men said, not too kindly. "You missed this month's payment. Price goes up when that happens."
"By four times?!" she asked, aghast. "I’ve been consistently paying on time for—"
"Hm, says right here that you missed payments on this date, and this date, and…" A second man handed her a sheet of paper. She sputtered.
"I— this was years ago!"
The men collectively snickered, and only the first guy was cordial enough to give an unhelpful shrug. "Sorry, but it adds up."
Ms Sharity stared at them in complete disbelief. She sunk to her knees, completely speechless at the situation she was in.
I wanted to intervene. I really did. But I was waiting, biding time for the moment. For them to state their true intentions—
"If we can’t get our money, we have to come back with something—"
"Actually, I don’t think that’s necessary."
Darn. Someone interrupted them. I did not even have to turn around to know who it was— the voice that sounded like it came in through a metal pipe gave it away.
The Plague Doctor strolled past me, through the door, and towards the group gathered out front. A man stepped forward to intercept him.
"I’m sorry, Sir. But I suggest you stay out of our business." He folded his arms, trying to flex all his muscles as he did. He was not exactly the biggest person in the world, and neither were any of the men armed with weapons. However, what he said was quite clearly meant to be a threat, considering his six other friends began posturing themselves too.
"Greetings, gentlemen. May I inquire as to what seems to be occurring here?" The Plague Doctor ignored him completely. "Because if you insist on harming the innocent family living in this orphanage— well I’d have to insist you do not, as I’ve just put in considerable effort into helping them."
"Hey, are you deaf?" the man shouted. "I said fuck off!"
"I do apologize, however I must insist you refrain from yelling. You see, the saliva produced from your enunciation gets projected onto my mask— sometimes on the glass at my eyes. And it gets really difficult to see when that happens."
"So you’re blind as well as deaf?" Another man asked. "Because I find that hard to believe. If you continue ignoring us, we’ll have to make you listen."
"Hm." The Plague Doctor considered this. "I don’t suppose any of you can answer my question? It appears your friend here seems to be a little hard of hearing."
"Wh—"
The Plague Doctor struck his cane onto the man’s right ear. He stumbled onto the ground, grasping at the side of his head, and screamed.
"Kill him—"
The man was immediately cut off by a second strike to the back of the neck. He fell incapacitiated to the ground as his friends charged the Plague Doctor.
That was a lot of people. Six versus one. I had seen people face off twice as many opponents before, and come out unscathed. However I knew nothing about this Plague Doctor; I did not want to find out
