A man lied motionless on the table, hands and arms tied down with raffia strings. His skin scarred black, flaking off like ash and rough to the touch. His eyes bloodshot, body shivering uncontrollably. I gave him a choice, both holding consequences. Choosing life meant enduring the agony that followed and even then, he would have to risk death. Silence hung in the air, the man doubted. It was a gamble, the odds against him, his survival only depending on the doctor that he had just met minutes ago, me.

He turned to look towards the door. Outside was his daughter. Been through hell as a child and grew up in this cruel world. If he was gone, who would protect her? She was young and reckless and at an age where her emotions were at the most fragile. But what he dreaded the most was losing her, even after death could he still watch over her?

His arm secreted blood, a shade darker than normal. He writhed in agony and nodded vigorously.

"Please…if I don't make it, help my daughter." He coughed out, staring at me with eyes filled with despair and yet there was some hope behind that look. I had to applaud his tenacity.

"Understood." I responded. Fuelled with resolve, I refused to let those words be his last.

Sliding my hand over the case, I flipped open the box. The equipment glistened under the dim ceiling light that swung back and forth like a pendulum. I rummaged through the box, picking up a smooth glass cylinder.

Empty...It was completely empty. I looked back at the man. His cornea darkened, slowly turning back. There was not much time left. I stretched the gloves over my hands, covering them. I reached for my knapsack, swiftly pulling out the UV torch.

"I'm sorry but...I don't have any more anaesthetic." I told the man but there was no response, his life was fading by the minute.

I flipped it on, waving the torch over his body. His skin began to smoke when exposed to the light. The man let out a blood curdling shriek, sounding barely humane. It sent shivers down my spine.

He flailed about the table, struggling to remove the restraints that held him. I placed the torch onto the side of my mouth, biting down and angling it towards the black skin. I needed both my hands to be free for this part of the operation.

The blight had already seeped into his wounds, I have to extract it.

"The syringe," I thought, hesitating a little before grabbing it from the box. It was nauseating to perform this procedure but regardless, it had to be done.

The situation was tense and the stress started to get to me. Seeing a person in such pain shook me to the core. The infections, looked alien and disgusting. It wasn't the first time I had done this but it was still unnerving. The man turned, staring at me dead in the eyes wearing a familiar expression I had seen in countless patients. His screams turned to whimpers as if pleading for mercy. To end his torment and send him to the grave.

"Calm down." I tried to reassure myself, "You're a doctor, save him!"

Screwing in a new needle, I shoved it into his arm. Piercing his skin and causing blood to spurt out of the side. He was struggling too much to get an accurate injection. With one hand holding his arm down, I pulled the plunger of the syringe, filling the barrel with black liquid. I continued until the liquid was tinted red.

The screams filled the room, escalating in volume but I pressed onward. Following the procedure as I learnt before. Stitching up any cuts and patching up his wounds all while exposing his skin to the UV light. Focusing the light onto the black blight on his arms and burning it away.

Once he began to stabilize, I reached for my bag again, pulling out a small container. Inside was a paste developed for this disease. I coated the paste on my hand and applied it onto the skin that was now covered with ebony. His whole body convulsed, reacting violently to it. The paste vaporised, I had to apply it continuously under the presence of the UV light.

I repeated this process, twice, thrice, until I was unable to count.

After what seemed like an eternity, the blight was fully removed from his body. I checked his pulse, he was alive.

Losing strength in my legs I dropped to the ground. I did it, it was a stage 3 blight and I managed to cure him. I never thought it was possible, but I finally managed to do it. The can of paste that was originally filled to the brim was now empty. The paste took years of research to develop and was eventually completed by me and it worked!

I was exhausted.

The door burst open and a young woman ran in. She glanced at his father before turning to look at me. Eyes teary and breath uneven, she was distraught and fearful. I shot her a smile and pointed at the man, nodding my head.

She immediately burst into tears, rushing over to her father's side in a heartbeat and hugged him. Though there was no response from him since he was out cold. He probably experienced the most painful surgery in his whole life, hell it was probably the most painful thing he felt in his whole life. The sight of this reminded me why I wanted to be a doctor even in this hell of a world. She then turned around, clasping her hands around mine.

"Thank you...Thank you so much," She choked out, tears still flowing. Even without her gratitude the thought of saving a life was enough reward for me.

I packed up my equipment, arranging it in the box and placing them into my bag. Though it was noble and all to save a person's life, it costed quite a bit of material and thus it pained me to say, "I'm sorry but...you said you have some sort of payment before right."

I felt disgusted to spit out such words but if I saved people for free, I'd run out of equipment to save more people and also feed myself.

"Ah yes!" She realised suddenly after being pulled back to reality by my words.

She dug into her pockets handing me thirty fragments. They shimmered under the light and gave out an azure smokey aura.

Thirty! She's overpaying six times the original agreed price. I couldn't possibly accept that! I have morals. Somewhere, my conscience prodded me as if telling me that asking for money in exchange was not morally correct in the first place.

Before I could make a sound she stuffed it into my bag and shook her head.

"This is nothing compared to what you had done for me, for my father as well," She spoke

My mind was flooded with emotion, was it possible for such people to exist. There were friendly people that were still alive in this world. It felt ages since I met someone like that. Now, I feel ashamed readying my gun under the cover of my bag. A safety measure if you will. I've been backstabbed by patients before and I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. This woman however, is causing me to feel guilty about everything I had done.

I gave her a grin, trying to hide the shame and guilt that I was holding right now and thanked her as sincerely as possible.

Light seeped through the windows. Filling the room with a warm orange colour. It was dawn. Zipping up my bag, I stood up, it was time to leave. I waved goodbye to the woman and the man and walked out of the apartment. My gun holstered at my hip and the UV torch clipped to my belt.

The streets were desolate and empty. A scene of an apocalypse like the ones showed in movies. As the light filled the streets, you could hear screeches of monsters. Moving around the shadows casted by the buildings.

In the daytime, under the cover of light, it was safe. The night that came after was far more terrifying.

I walked down the street, back facing the sun.

"Westward, only 200 kilometres to go." I groaned.

My journey was not going to be easy but I can say it has been rather exciting, though I would very much like it to be as boring as possible.

(edit: small changes to grammar)