They Who Wear the Bird Masks Read online

These are the pages from the diary of medical intern Audrey Smith. Ms. Smith was reported missing from her Worcester apartment this morning at around 6:30 a.m. when her colleague, Samuel James, went to pick her up for work and no one answered the door, which was found to be locked. There were no signs of a break in or struggle. The “plague” mentioned in this diary has ended. Contact with the hospital says that no more patients were reported after around 11:05 p.m. last night. Plans are being made to name this plague the Smith Plague. Media has not been alerted. We have been told that a government official is to arrive soon to collect this report and that the government will be taking care of this case. We are only to help if asked. This case no longer sits in the hands of the police. - Worcester Police Log, December22nd 2013, 9:30 a.m.

  12-08-12

  The amount of cases involving the removal of gallbladders is on the rise. It seems to be mainly old people who appear to be having problems. There are so many of these elders who are coming in in need of removing their gallbladders that I have been appointed to permanent gallbladder removal. We have all noticed the slight increases of these cases in the past five months, but it doesn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary. Maybe a T.V. station had a show about faulty gallbladders and now all the elders will blame their problems on them. Such are the fads of old people. Anyways, removing 11 in one day can’t be too strange. I mean, it is one of the more common surgeries. At least I have a pretty strong idea of what I’m doing tomorrow… laparoscopic gallbladder removal… all day. Not even a broken arm or leg to spice things up. All gallbladders, all day.

  12-09-12

  I was right. Just gallbladders. Like I don’t know how many I even did. Maybe like 19? Anyways, it was a lot. Oh, and it wasn’t just old people who came in. Two druggies came in. They were actually there for other things but sent them on over when they realized that, hey they need to lose those gallbladders! I wonder how many will come in tomorrow.

  12-12-12

  Today seemed to be my lucky day. A free clinic called, reporting one of their local bums needed to get his gallbladder removed too. The hospital sent me, and me alone, thinking it would be a quick and easy job. Of course it wasn’t. When I arrived at the free clinic not one, but nine bums needed the surgery. I keep thinking back to all the gallbladder surgeries I’ve been doing recently. Something about them doesn’t seem normal. I don’t think they are laparoscopic. Some of them defiantly are. But these others, they seem different. Like the body is completely refusing the gallbladder, like the gallbladder is a completely different organism. Plus the patients have been sicker and sicker each time. I have never seen symptoms like these before. And is it just a coincidence that the victims I have seen of this, this special gallbladder problem, are all old or sick, druggies or bums? They all seem like people who will die soon anyways or who will not be missed when they die (sorry druggies and bums and one run away, but it’s not like you are the president, or even have a job for that matter).

  Later – 9:41

  I am at the hospital. I was called back, turns out fifty-three people had been brought in, in very serious condition, their gallbladders the only thing anyone could find anything wrong with. By time I arrived twelve people had already died. We began removing gallbladders. Four have survived. Three are in comas. We had to give the other a sedative. He was screaming. Screaming and screaming, he screamed until he began to cough up blood. He kept saying that “they” were coming to get him, that “they” knew where he was, he screamed for us to save him, to protect him. Hold on, he is waking up. I am down the hall and already I can hear him screaming. He is shrieking that “they” are here. I will go see what is going on.

  Later, this will be a long night – 10:05

  What has happened, I do not know. When I reached the door to his room the screaming had turned wordless. As soon as I flung the door open I myself screamed. He was sitting on his bed, covered in his own blood, shrieking. His face was turned upwards to the ceiling. He had clawed off his own ears and gorged out his own eyes. He was choking, choking own his own blood. He died before I could even run over to the bedside. I believe I am the only one here who knows this is not normal gallbladder surgery. Everyone else believes that the patient was just insane. I do not think I should tell anyone what I have realized. Not until I know who “they” are.

  12-14-12

  We have had many, many more cases of this gallbladder problem. Every single person who has stayed at the hospital for a period of time longer than an hour and a half has begun screaming about “them”. I have made a grand realization. The gallbladder is not part of the human body. They are organisms living within us. They are like parasites that we are born with. Except they are normally peaceful, allowing us to live on barely knowing they are there. When they get sick that is when people get them removed. All of these people think it is just another body part, but no I am smarter. I must learn what is upsetting them. It may be the only way to stop these people, these hundreds, possibly thousands of people from dying. I will not rest until I know.

  12-16-12

  I am scared. I do not want to be left alone. I am sleeping over at Samuel’s apartment, I told him that I felt that “they” were coming for me. He thinks I am paranoid, but he let me stay. He says I need to stop spending so much time around the “affected patients” as we call them. Today though one of the affected began screaming and I went over to try to give a sedative. When I reached the patient they grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards them. They stopped screaming. The following is what they told me, in a voice barely more than a whisper:

  “They are coming. I can hear the music still. That damned music. So beautiful, so haunting. A thousand hundred souls screaming a melody. I can see them. They wait so patiently. Yes. They wait for me to die. They want me to die. They want the creature to die. They want my screams. They want to add them to the song.”

  “Who? Who are they?” I asked, I pleaded.

  “The music makers. The murderers. The doctors who will lead us to our deaths. They want you too. They know that you are learning of them. Humans shouldn’t try to interfere. They want your screams to add to the song. The song that makes the creatures die. The song that leads us all to this insanity that they have created for us.” The patient’s grip on my shirt grew weak. I still needed to know more, I needed to learn what this song was, I needed to learn what “they” were.

  “Please, please. Who are they? What do they want with us?” I could hear my voice shaking and my eyes felt on verge of tears. Yet I felt frustrated, angry that this person would not tell me what I needed most to know. “Tell me, I need to know!”

  “The bird-masked men. They wait in this very room, besides you, among you. You simply cannot see them because you have not killed the creature within you. The creature that protects you from them. And you, you have not heard the song. They want someone, they say that they want you. They want you to help them learn. They say you have wisdom. They want you to become one of them. Then they will stop playing their song.”

  I was worried. What could I teach them? Where they really in the same room as me right now? I had to hear this song. “Where is this song? How do I hear it?”

  A slight grin spread over the patient’s face. “Why, don’t you know? It’s been inside you all along. You just have to listen and they will play it for you.” I was about to question more when the grip on my shirt was released. I panicked and checked the pulse. There was none.

  Samuel is calling me to go to bed. I am worried. Will I too die? Do they really want me to become one of them?

  12-19-12

  I am still at Samuel’s, although this is the last night I can stay until January. I was sitting on the couch
watching the news when he told me that I will have to leave tomorrow since his sister will be staying with him for the holidays. I am embarrassed to say that I began to cry hysterically. I don’t remember exactly what happened after that, except Samuel came over and sat with me to comfort me and that I awoke in his bed with him holding me. It is very nice to know that he is trying to help me through this. Even if he doesn’t know what I’m going through he has remained kind to me, despite my breakdowns. Today another patient spoke to me. I was about to perform the surgery when he looked up at me, which was strange because the other intern had given him a sedative. Then he spoke. He said, “Do not bother. We will all die soon. The end of the world is coming as you know. No petty god will save us. We have no prophet to kill them.” He passed away before I could even begin the operation. Is he talking about the suspicion of the end of the Mayan calendar? I have been so caught up in this that I forgot about the whole “end of the world” deal. What if they are planning to end this all on the 21st? I have little time.

  12-20-12

  I had to leave Samuel’s. I am scared of being alone. I am positive that tomorrow is the day that they are waiting for. Tomorrow night I will join them. Tonight I will listen to the song. I do not want anyone else to die. Especially not Samuel.

  12-21-12

  12:01 a.m.

  I can hear the song. It is very faint. But I can hear it. I wish it was louder. It sounds beautiful.

  11:53 a.m.

  I was wrong. I can hear the song now. It is loud, but not to the point that it hurts. It may be beautiful, but I can hear the pain in the screams, I do not wish for it to get louder. I am starting to see dark shadows against the wall, stretched across the floor. My stomach feels like it is twisting in upon its self. I am back home, the hospital let me leave early since I puked on the floor. They said to go home and rest, to take a break from work. I feel as though rest is impossible.

  1:23

  I can see them clearly now. They are dressed like old time plague doctors. They are waiting in the corners. I think they are trying to say something, but it only comes as hisses compared to the song.

  5:47

  I can understand them. They say I have knowledge they need. They keep complementing me. They ignore any questions I ask.

  6:11

  They are no longer staying to the walls. Now they approach me. They come up to me, they have touched the side of my face, stroked my hair, and patted my back. Very gentle. Still complements. They say they need me. They also say that my government wants them gone, that my government is trying to stop them. They say that my government has tried creating weapons to destroy them. They say they will stop hurting people once I go with them, and that those still living will not be affected by their plague.

  9:39

  They have begun to gently tug at my arms. They say we will be leaving soon. They tell me I will walk with them. I hope that I am not making a mistake. The song has grown louder. My head hurts with the constant sound of the screams. They say that when I go with them the song will stop.

  9:54

  I keep throwing up. They seem to be trying to help and look at me, unsure of what to do. They gently hold my hand and rub my back. They gently massage my stomach and head. They seem to be kind. I do not mind their touch.

  11:01

  I am leaving. It is time to go. I hope that the plague will stop spreading. And, dear Samuel, do not worry for me, I trust the hands I am in. So long, goodnight.