Please... Give me a sign I did the right thing.
I'm so sorry.

She recounted the moment for what must have been nights, now. Motionless, was Sawbone, back against the wall, her face buried in her knees, sat upon the boards stained with the blood of one who once depended on her, a patient she came to know.

It was quiet now, a stillness she despised. She couldn't help but feel like as though it was deserved. This was someone she took under her care, it was never supposed to end this way.

...the glow of the blood on the saw faded three nights ago. She retched at the thought of turning her head to look, she only noticed the glow had faded from her peripheral vision.

All she could do now was sit in contemplation.

She thought about the night she found the patient, an optimistic candle with a patient smile and eyes that hid a great fatigue. They had met during one of Sawbone's field surveys to collect samples.

She was in the middle of carving out a sample with her saw when she was startled by the patient's gentle approach from the corner of her eye, and a gentle voice in salutation greeted her.

" Hello. " Hidden behind her glasses, Sawbone's eyes widened...

The state they were in betrayed the weak confidence, holding their arm behind their back. They were stained in Manor Blood, and their limbs faded at the ends.

Not wishing to discomfort them, Sawbone gently placed her saw on the ground and stood to rise.

She wanted to reach out, but she was still in a state of awe.

"y-you-... a-are you-..."

...Of course they weren't okay, Sawbone thought. They need immediate care.

"I'm... with the Medical Ward, I could get you the help you need- i-if that sounds okay with you."

"I know you're probably-..."

"I trust you." A smile followed those words. The patient was remarkably calm.

It took Sawbone a moment to compose herself before giving the patient a slight reassuring nod. She started collecting her belongings off the ground, making sure to secure the sample she set out for.

Once gathered, she motioned for the patient to join her on her way back to the Medical Ward. Sawbone faintly remembers the discussions they had on their walk back.

Then, the topic of professions came up.

The patient wanted to pursue the musical arts, that of a Violinist, but they expressed their worry, feeling as though their choice would mean they wouldn't contribute as much as they felt they needed to.

Sawbone looked at them, and then looked down to form the pieces of her thought.

"I... don't think... you should worry yourself with that."

"It's... sorry, it's hard to articulate, but what I mean to say is.. I don't think there has ever been a more important time for something such as harmony."

"...and I believe... you could bring just that. Harmony, I mean."

Sawbone noticed the lifted expression of the patient, and adjusted her glasses sheepishly.
A restored, faint shimmer appeared in the patient's eyes.
" thank you- that... " " ...I must really be lucky, to meet someone so kind in my time of need. " " You're the first to... make me think I might be able to matter. " " And... should I hope to see the nights that come after, you'll be who I play for first, okay? "
"Should I hope to see the nights that come after..."

Those words of melancholy struck a concerning chord with Sawbone. She felt as though those were no words that a candle should have to say, let alone think. It ached the memories of why she chose the practice of medicine.

The two had arrived at the Medical Ward's admission, where the patient was registered under Room 36 for an extended stay. Sawbone signed off on the registration, and guided them to their room.

The patient had not a worry as they walked, taking in the sights of an environment unfamiliar. Their blissful ignorance painted over the concerned looks from the staff they passed.

Upon their arrival to their designated room, Sawbone gave them a brief overview of their procedures and a last few reassurances before the patient was accommodated to rest for the night.

Two nights had gone by, checkups were performed by both Sawbone and the occasional substitute. The staff were perplexed at the patient's condition, it resembled cases related to Manor Rot, yet none of their prescribed procedures or usual treamtents seemed to be working.

They noted the smile of the patient never faded, but they could tell it was starting to eat at them from the inside. The patient's flame grew weary, producing small clouds of black, foggy smoke that would draw greater concern for the staff.

It wasn't for another night more on a night Sawbone was working late at her study. None of the traits were lining up with any prior notes, nor were there any samples to match to the cause.

She was stressed, resting her head on the palm of her clenched fist when she heard what sounded like someone falling on the floor, almost scrambling to get up.

The chair scraped across the floor as she took a stand from her study to approach the door, opening it in haste to be met with the barging sound of the room across the hall being shouldered open by one of the staff. Room 36.

She watched as her colleague stumbled out of the patient's room, struggling to contain the black bile they were coughing up, it resembled Manor Blood, only more tethered. The rest of the staff stood in horror at the sight as two rushed over to assist them to an emergency infirmary.

Sawbone's gaze was then turned to the attention of the rest of the staff, who looked at her with a sense of vitriol. Nervously, she grabbed her saw, an unfortunate instrument of precaution in the case a patient should turn into a Wickless under their care.

She crossed the hallway and peered into the room to find the patient lurched over in their cot...

She didn't have long to concern herself with options, as just when she turned to look at the others for guidance she was forcefully shoved onto the room's floor, and the door was locked shut behind her.

The clatter of her saw hitting the ground was quickly followed by an argumentive shouting coming from out in the hall...

With haste, she raised herself and reclaimed her glasses from the floor. She reached out towards the frame of the cot to support her as she reaffixed her glasses.

She heard their voice, it was winded with strain, their flame on a verge...
"ah... ha.. haha.. i'm.. sorry... " "I.. knew I was too far gone, I..."
They faced their hand outward towards Sawbone.

"I'm a mess of..too many.. missing pieces... but... " "...you.. helped me find.. a few of them before I- "

They curled into a cough, trying with strained strength to conceal their mouth.

Sawbone's lip quivered to see them like this. She looked back towards the chatter behind the door, and then turned her focus towards scanning the room.

She turned to make her move towards the cabinets when she felt her arm being pulled back, weakly.

"...no.. I.. I don't want to see... more of myself on the outside than there already is... "
...
"w-... what?"
"the vials... they... the others-.."
The coughing was getting worse.

Pulling herself from the bedside, Sawbone moved towards the door and attempted to get the attention of the staff.

She threw the weight of her fists onto the door and called out, but the number on the otherside fell silent.

...she then heard another sound fall behind her.

Turning, she immediately clocked the absence of the patient from the cot. That noise was them, and they had fallen behind the other side of the bed.

It chilled her very soul to hear the... sounds, just out of sight. There were no screams, no words. Just nothing, and now this.

First, it was the arm appearing from the foot of the bed, pulling at the boards to drag its new figure across the room.

The Eyes. Filled with such dread, the sockets expelled tears as if the very light was being rejected from their body.

Their figure was trailed and inhibited by the tendrils of black, mutated Manor Blood as they continued to crawl.

It came to a stop, lurched over the bonesaw that Sawbone had brought in with her. Like blood drops, the inky blood from their face fell to meet with the cold, jagged steel.

Sawbone looked on in horror as the figure took hold of the saw, shoving it to slide across the floor towards Sawbone.

She was met with a terrible look as it struggled to climb into a sickly stance.
Reluctantly, Sawbone took hold of the saw on the floor.

...

She made sure the sickness never reached their heart.