[Chapter:24][24 hours.]

*step* *step* *step*

Clear, distinct footsteps brought Yamada out of his daze.

He felt the restraints around his neck and head tighten once more, and he was forced to look straight ahead, no longer able to even turn his neck.

He wanted to shout, to scream, yet the soft, wet thing kept his mouth gagged.

Knowing what it could be, knowing what that weird tasting liquid was, Yamada felt his guts wrench. He wanted to puke, yet he couldn't even retch as his entire body was immobilised.

*step* *step* *step*

The footsteps got closer and closer, and until they stopped right behind him.

Yamada's heart beat faster, faster than it ever had before. Faster than when he had sex for the first time, faster than when he saw the first walking corpse.

What was mere seconds, felt to him like the passage of hours, days even. His throat was parched, yet he refused to drink the fluid that was readily available in his mouth. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. His eyes were constantly looking around, yet all he saw was a pitch black room.

The room wasn't small, yet it also wasn't large. And it was entirely black. The walls, the ceiling the floor, except for the crimson blood, everything else was black.

And yet, even without any form of light, Yamada could strangely see everything clearly.

And that made him even more frightened.

*step* *step*

Then the footsteps resumed, and a black robed person walked forward from behind him. Yamada felt his breath quicken, even as he felt choked at the pungent smell of blood.

His eyes stared at the person's face, and as the person turned around, what he saw was…

…

…

Nothing.

There was nothing in there. No face, no skull, no nothing.

It was just…empty. Like the robe had been moving by itself.

For a moment Yamada forgot to breath, yet his heart jumped the very next second when a cool breeze emerged from behind him, making the robes flutter.

And as they fluttered, he could see what was behind them. The body inside the robes, which was also…missing.

"!!"

At this point, Yamada's fear had reached so high, it was a surprised he had yet to faint. Yet, as though that wasn't enough, a green light suddenly blinded his eyes. And the moment he opened them, the robed person had changed. No, changed is wrong. What must be said is, the robed person 'appeared'.

A tall humanoid figure that appears to be garnished in long black robes and a white-beaked mask. Behind the mask were a pair of jet black eyes that stared right into his own, and within them, every now and then, appeared an eerie green glow.

The figure's hands, covered in black cloth, appeared from under the robes, and it set down a small metal toolbox. The figure walked forward, and bent down when it approached Yamada, staring right into his eyes.

"Ahh…the pestilence…how unfortunate of you, poor, poor soul, to be infected for so, so long, yet not even be aware of it. Truly a damnable illness it is. Worry not! Since my master has given you to me, I shall do my very best in curing you."

The figure spoke in a fairly gentle, affable voice, yet it somehow managed to make every strand of hair on Yamada's body rise I fear.

For a moment, he felt as though he was being stared at by a predator, by a monster, as though he was about to go through something so, so much worse than simply being eaten as a monster's meal.

*click!*

The figure extended its arm to open the tool box it had set aside, and from it, it took a scalpel and a long, metal skewer.

"It is a pity I cannot unbind you. Master said you would do little to cooperate. And I am inclined to agree. Those infected of the pestilence…often resist treatment. Master is truly a wise man, knowing much about the pestilence despite clearly being not a man of medicine."

He figure turns to Yamada, and pushes the scalpel in his hand right through his stomach, uncaring of his clothes that come I between.

"How unfortunate, that I cannot undress you, not when the pestilence has clearly spread to even our clothing. I cannot, in right conscience, discard it without properly cleansing it of the disease, not when even heat high enough to burn the air itself would kill the virus completely."

Yamada could only stare in disbelief, his neck somehow being forced to turn in the direction of the figure and its actions, as he felt the scalpel tear through his flesh, puncturing his stomach.

He felt the pain, the anguish, the fear, it was all too clear to be a dream. Yet he hoped it was, oh, he wished it was all a dream, nothing but a nightmare. One that he would soon wake up from, and forget soon after, and go to school, and harass that orange haired slut, and maybe get his teacher to take him to the brothel they visited last week…

"!!!"

Yet a surge of pain, unlike any he had ever felt before, ripped those thoughts of his apart. He looked down quickly, only to find, to his increasing horror…

"Aha! Just as I thought!"

…that his stomach was missing.

No, missing would be wrong. What is better, would be that his stomach was 'removed', along with the skin and flesh and bones and several other organs he did not know the names of, yet knew all too well that he needed them to live.

"It appears the spread of the pestilence has begun from your left kidney, spreading to your liver, your pancreas, your stomach, and from there to your intestines. All the way to your appendix."

The hands of the figure danced on his body, tearing his flesh, removing his bones. In mere minutes, Yamada could see, first hand, the shape of his lungs as they frantically sucked in air, the sight of his heart beating as it tried its very best to replace the lost blood.

"Ah! What do we have here?"

The figure paused in its motions, before it abruptly leaned forward to stare at his fingers.

Or his finger nails to be precise.

"Skin tissue! Not your own, yet clearly infected as well! And yet, the pestilence had not spread to the tissue in between your fingers and nails? How could it be?"

The figure quickly reached out to its tool box, and brought out a sharp and thin needle like skewers.

And without as much as a warning, it plunged them right through the gap between his fingers and nails, before prying them up with a swift flick of its wrists.

"!!?"

Yamada's body, which could barely function, trembled, as he closed his eyes in pain. He could feel it, the figure pry the rest of his nails open, remove his left leg, cut open his right, he could even feel the immeasurable pain that shot through his body as he felt his manhood torn and pierced and have God knows what done to it…

Yet he could do nothing more than shake and tremble and quiver, as the pain and fear flooded his mind. He could feel his heart slowing down, his lungs no longer expanding as much as they should, and he could feel death's grasp approach him…

"Yes! It! Is! Done!"

…yet it was no meant to be. He was not allowed to fall into the embrace of death.

"Haha! Rejoice, for I have cured you, young man! Although your body may have…changed a little, and might take some time to get used to, such inconvenience is of little value when compared to being immune to the pestilence from here on."

He felt himself wake up. He felt…complete. He felt as though something he had been missing since the day he was born was finally back with him together.

He felt the restraints loosen, before they promptly disappeared. He looked down to see that he was now sitting on an ordinary chair, a metal, full black chair, yet the fact that it to him mere moments ago looked like the corpses of his teacher and best friend did not confuse him nor did it invoke his curiosity or surprise.

It felt…inconsequential, compared to whatever it was that had happened to him.

He willed his body up, and stood upright as he stared at the thing before him, nay, the respectable doctor before him that had, all on his own accord, cured him of his illness, and felt boundless gratitude.

"Gah…gree…grr…"

"Ah, your vocal chords are a little…rough around the edges due to the surgery. It will take you much time to get used to the changes, I'm afraid. But worry not, you have all the time in the world, now that you no longer need to worry of ever being plagued by the pestilence."

He realised that he couldn't speak, yet that was, as the doctor said, of little consequence compared to the favour he had done to him.

He bowed to the doctor to express his gratitude, which the doctor promptly waved away.

"Nonsense! It is my pleasure to rid poor souls such as you of the…the illness that pestilence is. Besides, you have given me much data on how it effects the living. And with your help, I have furthered my research into the cure that is far easier than the surgery I have had to do to cure you."

"If you want to thank someone, you must thank Master. He was, after all, the one who has seen in you the pestilence, something that is quite remarkable, as I have not seen a man other than myself that has managed to identify its presence, and delivered you to me."

Master? He wondered, as he recalled the white haired figure that he had last seen. The man who delivered him to the doctor? Then, he supposed he must indeed thank him when he sees him later on.

"Well now, I'm happy to say you no longer need my services at the moment. For now, all you have to do is get used to your new body, and I shall take a few samples further down the lane."

The doctor gestured, and the black walls of the room suddenly split apart, making way to a seemingly endless white space.

"Go on, and try to get used to your body as quickly as you can. I shall call you when I need more samples."

He nodded his head to the doctor, and stumbled as he walked to the endless white space. It was hard, he noted, to walk with seven limbs each merely several inches long when he was used to walking on two that were several tens of inches long instead.

But he would get used to it soon, just as he would get used to his three arms, one reaching all the way to his stomach, and the thick rod for penetration that lied on his chest. As well, as to listening from the ears attached to the back of two of his seven knees, and tasting food with the tongue emerging from his forehead before gobbling it down with the mouth on his neck. He supposed he would also get used to biting with the teeth that replaced his seven feet's toe nails and three hands' finger nails, crushing it before gobbling it down, sending it to the stomach that lied between his legs and the intestines that wrapped around his torso, but that could wait.

After all, he had all the time in the world, didn't he?

...

*click*

"Ah, Master."

The figure looked at the walls close back up, making the 'cured patient' disappear as he limped his way through the endless expanse of space, and looked at another wall which similarly opened up to reveal a white haired and red eyes youth sitting on a chair as he watched the happenings of the 'operation room' on the monitor placed on the desk before him. There was also a clock on the desk, right next to the monitor, displaying 24 : 00 : 27.

"Master, I am delighted to say that your provision of living subjects infected with the pestilence had done much to my research, even though it took me an entire day to perform the surgery while trying to keep the subject alive. Though I know not why you have summoned me, and yet disallow me from going outside these strange rooms, I am much joyful at being given this opportunity to further my research for the cure."

Grace looked at the figure before him and smiled.

"Yes, I'm sure you are. And worry not, I can guarantee that you'll have more samples to perform your surgery on that you could ever imagine."

"Thank you Master. Truly. You have no idea how great of an action you are doing by helping me find a cure to the pestilence. I am certain your name would remain carved within the annals of history, along with my own humble one, when I succeed."

"I'm sure they will be, SCP-049, I'm sure they will be."