WE OWN NOTHING
The First Seal
The first thing he heard was a steady beeping sound, evenly paced out. The sound reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite figure it out.
The second thing he recognized was the smell. The sterile stench of antiseptic cleaning fluid scorched the insides of his nostrils, making him wince in discomfort from the sensation. The pain bought clarity of mind with it, and he opened his eyes.
The sound was a monitor next to his bed, wires stretched out to connect with pads stuck to his chest. As he watched, the waved lines moved across the screen, the beep speed increasing as he began to breath faster.
A hospital? Why was he in a hospital? He tried to move, but he found that he couldn't. Not because he was strapped down, but because he had no strength. With all his might, he could barely move his arm or turn his head. He tried to call out, but realized with horror that he couldn't. When he opened his mouth to speak, nothing emerged save for a dry rasp of meaningless noise.
Panic began to set in. Was he paralyzed? How had this happened? The last thing he remembered was-
His mind ground to a halt. What had he done?
He remembered getting up in the morning, showering and having breakfast. He recalled going to work and sitting in his office, politely greeting his secretary and going through the morning's paperwork. He remembered going to grab his lunch, a tuna sandwich from a nearby deli, and then he-
Nothing. He remembered nothing that happened afterwards.
Something wasn't right. Something was terribly wrong, but he didn't know what.
The door opened, admitting a young woman wearing a doctor's coat, a stethoscope around her neck and a clipboard in hand. A mask covered her mouth and nose, and a cap contained her hair.
"Ah, you're finally awake!" she said, flipping through the pages of her clipboard. "That's good. Can you say anything, Mr. Anders?"
Max tried. He really tried. He tried harder than he ever had before, but nothing came from his throat other then a slight wheeze.
"I figured, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to check." the doctor said, making a mark on the paper before putting the clipboard down and sitting next to the bed. "Mr. Anders, since you're a man who doesn't like his time wasted, I'll be frank with you. You're at Brockton Bay General Hospital, and you've been here for two days since your coworkers brought you in after you collapsed at your desk. There is a strain of something nasty and new going around. I'm sorry to tell you that this disease has taken your voice and strength. You were one of the first affected, but it's not just you. We aren't sure what it is yet, but it acts fast and shuts down your speech centers while simultaneously degrading your muscles, leaving you the way you are now."
Despair gripped Max's mind. How could he run the Empire, let alone Medhall, in this condition? Was he doomed to this hospital bed for the rest of his life?
The doctor must have seen something in his eyes, because she quickly spoke. "Don't worry though, Panacea is making the rounds in an hour or so, and she'll have you all fixed up in no time. Until then, I'm afraid that you're just going to have to wait it out."
Max thought fast and furiously. After hearing this information, his mind was in equal states of relief and dread. If what the doctor was saying was true, then it was only a matter of time before he recovered, but there would be a price. After she healed him of this accursed disease, she would know that he was a Parahuman. Although Doctor-Patient Confidentiality would protect him from being unmasked, Max hated the idea of anyone outside his Empire, let alone a hero, knowing his true face.
Still, that was a problem to deal with after he left the hospital, ideally in better health than he went in.
The doctor pulled up a sleeve to check her watch, then reached down out of sight for a moment. When her hand came into view, it was holding a box. "I've been assigned to keep an eye on you until Panacea gets here, so I came prepared with something to pass the time. Care for a game of chess?"
Max thought about it for a second, then nodded his head a little. The game of strategy would keep his mind sharp and distract him from his current situation.
"Wonderful! I'll set it up. Do you want me to adjust your bed so you can see a little better?" she asked as she pulled a wheeled table closer to the bed. He considered it, then nodded again.
"Alright, just let me grab the remote. There we go. Is that better?" Now that he was propped up a little, he could see the board clearly. The doctor busied herself with setting up the pieces, then turned the board so that they both had a clear side.
"Since you are the guest here, you play white. Between you and me, it's the best side to start from." she said. Mildly amused at her word choice, Max mustered all his strength and reached for a pawn.
His fingers hadn't even touched the piece before his vision blurred slightly, the room drifting in and out of focus.
'What was that?' he thought. 'Am I getting worse?' His hand lingered an inch away from the pawn, worried it was going to happen again.
'Aren't you going to move? You do remember how to play, right?'
Startled, Max quickly looked around for the source of the Voice to no avail. It was just the doctor and himself here.
"Aren't you going to move?" asked the doctor.
'Good, you can hear me. You'd better make a move, by the way. She might think you're crazy if you don't.'
Hesitantly, Max pushed the pawn forward two squares.
'Good boy. Can you imagine being sent to an asylum because you can't play chess? You'd be a laughing stock.'
Max looked around again. Still just the two of them, no one else. He couldn't tell if the Voice was male or female, and that really irritated him.
'I wouldn't bother trying to find me. Trust me, you won't until I'm good and ready. If I were you, I'd try and focus on the game.'
Looking back down, Max decided to ignore the Voice in his head. The game began in earnest then, no noise between the two of them, save for the occasional grumble from his doctor whenever he took a piece.
'As you've probably figured by now, only you can hear me. Let's keep it that way, just you and me huh?'
He had figured that part out, but he was still confused and worried. There was only one true telepath in the world, and he had no desire to be anywhere on the same continent as her.
'Oh relax, I'm not the Simurgh. Not that I would tell you if I was, of course. I suppose you'll just have to take my word for it.'
'I suppose I'll have to.' thought Max irritably.
'Good. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, lets talk about you, shall we?'
Max had nothing he wanted to talk about, least of all to a disembodied voice.
'Now that's just rude. I wonder though, would you listen if I spoke in a German accent and started persecuting minorities? Would I then be sufficiently on your wavelength to speak with you, Kaiser?'
Max couldn't freeze from shock, but he could he would have. How did it know?
"You alright, Mr. Anders? You look a little pale." the doctor asked, looking up from the board.
'She's right, you know.'
Max gave the doctor what he hoped was a calming smile and tried to focus on the game, moving his pawn more to give a bishop some room to work.
'Since you're wondering how I know your secret, I'll give you a little hint: right now, you and I are as close as any life form can be.'
Max frowned internally. That didn't help at all.
'I know.'
He was really starting to hate that voice.
'Returning to our topic, that topic being you, let me ask you something. Do you know how you are similar to, lets say, Lung? Or Skidmark?'
The thought of being similar to those two in any way nearly made Max bristle in anger. Or rather, it would have if he had the strength for it. As it was, it was a miracle he could move his hand to play chess.
'Ooh, did I touch a nerve? Too bad. You are going to hear this, whether you like it or not. Make no mistake, Max, you are very similar to Lung and Skidmark. Not in appearance. I'll grant, but in action. Your gangs have torn the city apart to claim it for yourselves, with nary a thought towards the wellbeing of those you trample in your path to power. Any of this starting to ring a bell?'
'Is this a hero, then? A hero who found out my identity and is using their powers to taunt me while I lay helpless? If so, then they'll be in for a big surprise when I get out of here.' he thought angrily.
'Oh, take a chill pill, dude. I can assure you, I'm no hero. Hell, if the heroes learned about me, I'd be on a one-way ticket to the Birdcage before you could blink.'
Okay, not a hero. Maybe a new villain, looking to make it big for themselves by taking advantage of an absent gang leader?
'You're not wrong, but you're not right either.'
Well, that was unhelpful.
'I try. But we've gotten off topic again. Your Empire, the ABB, Coil, and the Merchants. The four groups who claim dominance over Brockton Bay. The Nazis, the Druggies, the Dragon's Underlings, and the Manipulator. Your groups have been choking the life out of this city for decades. You see, I decided that it was time that changed.'
'What gives you the right to decide that, then? How does that make you any different then me, or the others you claim I'm so similar to?' Max thought as he moved his queen over a space.
'I'm different then you in so many ways, but I don't feel like listing them all right now. But, the main reason I'm different then you is what I choose to do with my gifts. You see, I have chosen to make Brockton Bay a better place, and I have chosen to fix the cause of it's problems.'
'So you can hear me think, then?'
'Of course.'
'Then let me ask you this. If you plan on fighting the gangs for control of this city, how does that make you different from any other villain? How does that make you different from me, who wants nothing more than to fix the city he cares about by controlling the savages who want to harm it?' Max asked.
'I see what you're doing, you know. You want me to come to the conclusion that you and I are not so different, that we seek the same thing. I give you props for trying, but you are very wrong.'
'Am I?' he asked.
'Very. You and I both know perfectly well that you don't give a damn about your little party line, that you just use racism as another tool in your arsenal to control the weak and desperate. That's not a good thing, you know. It doesn't mean you're a good guy deep down, it means that you're obsessed with power and control. That is the darkness that threatens to engulf Brockton Bay, and that is what I have sworn to fight against.'
'And how are you going to do that? Even with myself incapacitated, my allies are strong, and my enemies won't let you have your way with the city either. Your cause is hopeless!' Max thought triumphantly as he returned his focus to the game. He could tell they were nearing the end. He and his opponent both only had a few pieces left between them. All he had left was his king, his queen, a bishop, a knight, a rook, and one pawn.
'How bold of you to assume that I haven't already begun. But to answer your question, I intend to fight fire with fire. Or, to phrase it another way, I intend to fight your poison with my own. Though I suppose in this circumstance, plague would be a more fitting choice of words.'
Max froze. The chill of fear was back, responding instantly to the casual words of the Voice.
'What do you mean?' he asked hesitantly.
'Come on, Max. I thought you were a smart man. Don't you remember?'
For a moment, he didn't. But then he remembered the words the doctor spoke when she first checked on him.
You were one of the first affected, but it's not just you.
'What did you do?!' he cried out in his head.
'Maybe a visual aid would help?' the Voice pondered as his doctor reached out to take his bishop. The moment her gloved fingers touched the piece, images exploded into his head.
Crusader, his loyal ally, lying in bed unable to move or speak, his eyes bulging in fear as he breathed his last.
'Did that spell it out for you, or do you need more?'
Fingers reached for his knight.
More images danced behind his eyes.
Hookwolf collapsed on the ground, surrounded by his dogs, unable to move as they moved towards him, unable to speak as they tore into him in the name of vengeance for all he had done to him.
His rook.
Rune fell out of the sky, her body not responding to her desire. She impacted the ground hard, the concrete slab she was riding landing on her with a sickening crunch.
His pawn.
Victor fell to the ground motionless, Othala reaching out to him but locking up before she could touch him.
Alabaster's body strangely still, unable to reset itself to save his life from what coursed through his veins.
His queen.
Fenja and Menja desperately grabbing at each other for comfort as they lost their strength, unable to speak even though tears flowed down their cheeks.
'Do I need to keep going, or do you want to see what happened to the other gangs? I admit, Oni Lee was a bit boring, but Lung's body kept trying to regenerate itself to fight an opponent it couldn't see. It was quite fascinating. As for the Merchants, I barely had to do anything to them. Their bodies were already giving out from the years of drugs. I just gave them a little shove to the next life. I mean, can you imagine how bad off they were?'
Max could do nothing. His eyes were fixed on his last chess piece, his king, surrounded by the remaining pieces of his opponent. He could no longer move, for the last of his strength had left him.
'I suppose you won't have to imagine soon, though. A lovingly cultured infection swarms now through your blood, bringing you closer to the end every time your heart beats.'
He tried to call for his power, to summon his blades and strike down his invisible enemy.
Nothing happened. The beeping from the monitor began to speed up.
'It's quite fascinating, isn't it? Just a little tweaking here and there, a small interaction, really, and your Corona Gemma becomes unattached in all the ways that are important for you to access your power. I've devoted quite a bit of time to my studies you see, and I now know all the little tricks your brain uses to trigger your power. Just a few fired synapses, a couple charged neurons, and the laws of physics are utterly violated It's a miracle, isn't it?'
His doctor picked up his king piece and examined it. Then she spoke.
"Of course, all miracles require sacrifice, right Max?" She removed her mask, revealing another underneath. Only, unlike the sterile blue hospital mask, this one was a deep brown color, emblazoned with the symbol of a golden bow with green-tipped arrows arranged around it.
Next, the cap was removed, allowing her long, curly black hair to flow free. From her pocket, she produced a pair of black-tinted goggles framed with dark red metal, which she slipped on over her eyes.
"Are you confused, Max?" she asked. 'The death in your veins sings to me, allowing us to speak without ever uttering a sound. A fascinating little ability, but one that is only a side effect of my power.'
She flipped through the clipboard for a moment, then shrugged and tossed it to the side. "I just realized that I never introduced myself. How unprofessional of me."
She bowed at the waist and flourished her arm, speaking in voice and in mind at once.
"I am Pestilence, a name I have taken in honor of a Horseman of the Apocalypse. Brockton Bay will be the first city I ride through to cleanse, but it will not be the last. I will not rest until the poison that strangles the world is wiped out by my plague."
The beeping sped up faster.
Straightening from her bow, Pestilence began to pack up the chessboard, no longer saying a word. 'Not a bad introduction, right? It's gone through a few versions, but I'm satisfied with this one. Did you know that Pestilence has been related to the Four Horsemen since at least 1906? If I'm not mistaken, it was first mentioned in the Jewish Encyclopedia. I thought that was rather fitting.'
She put her disguise back on, concealing the identity of Pestilence behind the mask of a healer. A delightful irony, but one that Max was unable to grasp at the moment as his heart began to beat faster and faster. The beeping was coming faster and faster.
'Now that you are dying, my work in Brockton Bay is done. I ride now to Boston. It's a pity I can't actually kill the Butcher, but I do have other options. There are, after all, some fates worse than death. Until we meet in the next life, Max Anders.'
With that, the walking plague left the room with her clipboard under one arm and the chess box under another, leaving no traces of her visit.
The beeping got so fast it was practically one single piercing noise, then there was a brief silence, followed by the low tone of a flatline.
Author's Note: Our first Worm Story. I, Z, hope you Enjoyed.