The Plague Doctor held two vials out in a single hand. One with a sloshing orange liquid, and the other with… something gray inside of it? He took the first one— the vial with the orange liquid— and hurled it into the middle of a group of thugs approaching us with their swords and axes. The glass bottle cracked upon landing on the ground—
And it explode.
Not like some sort of molotov cocktail bursting into flames. And not like a grenade that sends out a small dusty shockwave along with shrapnels. But like a mini explosion— the kinds that came from real bombs, but just downsized into a radius of several feet.
My eyes widened and the ground shook as the group of thugs were flung across the room like ragdolls. Their bodies were already burnt, and they fell dead or half dead on the ground. The other thugs were also in shock, and in that moment, the Plague Doctor uncorked his second vial and rolled it into the room.
A plume of gray smoke began pouring out of the small bottle. It came out fast; as if it was being funneled through a much bigger opening than it actually was. The smoke obscured my vision, blocking the view of almost everything in the room. I fought off the urge to cough, covering my mouth from inhaling the gas. But the people inside—
indoors— were not so lucky.
I heard several people immediately start coughing due to the smoke, and the gunshots stopped coming. I tried to seize the opportunity to start firing back, but I could barely even make out anything through the haze.
"Step back, young Miss," the Plague Doctor said, walking up beside me. "You won’t be able to see past the smoke."
He hefted his gun up, and put a foot through the door. I looked at him inquisitively.
"And you can?"
"This smoke was designed to obscure vision to the naked eye. But with a certain lens,"— he tapped his gloved finger onto the glass opening on his mask— "it would be like nothing was even there."
The Plague Doctor fired a shot. The bullet parted the smoke where it went. The gray gas flashing yellow for a moment. The gunshot ringing my ears. But in that brief opening, I saw a figure collapse in the distance.
Then the Plague Doctor took more steps forward, entering the room fully. He flicked his hand to another target— one that I could not see— and pulled the trigger. Again, the same thing happened. A moment of intense light. A small hole forming in the haze. And a thug dropping dead.
Again, the Plague Doctor fired. And again, another man died.
He pirouetted around, looking across the room, firing bullet after bullet. People fell everywhere he aimed. Like a sharpshooter, he never missed his targets.
He fired another shot, and the same thing happened. But this time, instead of a person on the other side, I saw a box.
It took me a second to register what happened. First, the bullet burrowed through the wooden crate, splintering bits of wood all over the ground. Then blood splattered all over the wall beyond the box, as I heard a shout.
He shot through their cover!
Another three shots rang out. The smoke was mostly cleared at that point, having stopped pouring out of the vial, and being dispersed by the powerful gunshots. All that was left were the sounds of the clinks of bullet shells bouncing on the ground, and a… groan?
I turned to the direction of the noise; a man laid bloodied against the wall. He was shot through the stomach but he was still alive. The only one left alive, for that matter.
The Plague Doctor sauntered over to the man feebly clutching himself where his stomach used to be. The Plague Doctor bent over, pulling something from under his coat as he did.
"Do you want this?" he asked, dangling a glowing healing potion in front of the man.
"Urk…"
The man could not form any words. He was gasping for breath and barely alive. But he managed to gather enough strength to nod his head slowly.
"Good."
The Plague Doctor emptied a quarter of the healing potion over the man. He sat up, inhaling a sharp breath—
Then began coughing in pain.
"Most of your wound has healed. Enough for you to survive. Now if you promise to leave and find a proper job, and tell me where the girl is, I will let you live."
"I— she’s upstairs! In the second room to the right of the stairs!" the man quickly sputtered out.
"Very good," the Plague Doctor said, satisfied. "And how many more of you are there in this building?"
"We’re not very big of a gang— I only joined when the country continued raising its taxes even after I lost my job! There’s only a dozen more of us in there. Two dozen maybe. I… I don’t know! Please let me go!" he pleaded desperately.
"I will. That was part of our agreement, was it not?"
"Thank you, oh thank you!"
the man exclaimed. He pulled himself to his feet and after a moment's hesitation, made his way out of the door. "I promise I’ll be good! I promise I won’t do this anymore—"
The man collapsed as the Plague Doctor struck him on the back of his head. He fell, unconscious. But still alive.
"What was that for?" I asked, inclining my head to the side. "You’re not going to let him go?"
"I am. Just not this instant."
"Why not?"
"Because I don’t know if he’s telling the truth," the Plague Doctor answered. He gestured at the unconscious man, then towards the outside. "For all we know, Ms Hannah might not even be here right now. They could have taken her somewhere
