Take # 2

3rd April 1873,

It all started with a child.

On a day when the sun brimmed over the sky with the intent to roast like it normally did. When the rustle of people in the crowd was just as magnificently distracting like it always had been, a shrieking scream shattered the mundane within a second.

A snotty, nose dripping six year old lying on the stretcher, wailed at the top of his lungs in the corridor. His voice loud enough to break through the thickness of the noise of idle chatter. It was almost as if perhaps the kid knew his life was at stake.

Smart kid; he thought right.

The green gash over the boy's arm was horrendous to look at, and even worse to stand by. It kept on growing to his elbows at the speed of a bullet train without a station. Like a micro fungus, it ate his skin bit by bit, rotting the edges of the area around it.

It was only a matter of time till it'd reach his heart.

We only had hours.

His parents, frantically cradled their child with desperation, and did what...