There are 106 of you now! considering I never really expected more than 10 people to pat attention, that’s amazing as a present, have an extra long installment! this babies over 2,000 words long! Happy Reading! (Also the Blue Sickness was one of the names for the Black Death when it was happening)
Michael hadn’t always been an angry person.
To be fair, life had set him up that way. He was a poor young lad in the mountains of Scotland, with too many younger siblings, brought into this world by a mother and father who never stopped trying to make their children’s lives better, even though they were well aware they would never reach their goal. It was unfair, it was cruel, and he was intimately familiar with the feeling of starving enough to be in agony but not enough to die. He should’ve been angry at everything back then, but he had too much love in his heart for that. He never minded when that nights bread went to his younger siblings and he drank only water with his parents. They needed it more than he did, and he would always prefer the piercing pain of hunger to the tortuous sound of his poor baby siblings cries.
When the Blue Sickness came a knocking and he was the unlucky one who answered the door, his only thought was that he was grateful it was him and not the other members of his family. He died three days after the first ring appeared under his arm, and he thanked the great God above that his death was quick, and that his family wasn’t forced to watch him die for weeks, as some others were.
He was no longer thanking him when he woke in a mass grave.