Crimson Escape Chapter 1: An Unusual Meeting
26th of April, 1857
There was a loud CLASH of metallic tools hitting the floor, as Aaron tripped over and landed with an equally loud CRASH. Looking at himself to see he only sustained a few scrapes and bruises, Aaron got back onto his feet and scrambled around for the medical instruments that were spilled onto the floor. He groaned, having just spent the last half hour cleaning them. Nevertheless, he swiftly picked each one up by the handle, before checking his surroundings to make sure he hadn't left any lying on the floor.
"Better to clean them once more" Aaron murmured, retreating to his workstation and placing them down on the table, before going to grab a bucket. He checked his clock on the wall, before he sighed and sprinted down to the river, having recently checked to make sure it was free from any defecation. Once he arrived, he rolled up his sleeves and began filling the bucket, before making the steady return back to his workshop.
Once he had made it inside, he quickly placed his bucket on the counter and took another look at the clock. "Guh, I've only got about five minutes until-" he was interrupted by a loud KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK at his door.
Aaron immediately went quiet, his heart began beating with sweat dripping from his face. A few seconds of no movement or thought, before a light and middle aged voice was heard from the other side of the door.
"Good day Mr. Aaron Chapmen, my name is Justin Silverworth." He said from the other side of the door. "Today, I will be examining you, to see whether or not you will be accepted into the Royal College as an apprentice."
"I shall be with you in a second!" Aaron shouted, running to the door and opening it. Each step on the way pushed his anxious feelings further and ready to consume his mind, but he mustered strength and opened the door to let the inspector in.
Mr. Silverworth made his way in, his shoes creaked against the floorboards with every step. He was both a tall, and a dignified man with a sharp moustache. Aaron briefly thought about complimenting the man's mutton chops, but responded by nodding in respect to Silverworth, both men wearing white aprons as a sign of their positions.
"To start, I inquire the name of your mentor for the record." Silverworth asked of the boy.
"Of course sir, my mentor is Mr Logan Lance. I've been under his tutelage for roughly nine years." Said Aaron.
Silverworth had taken out a pen, paper and clipboard, writing down every word.
"What have you learnt of during your time as his apprentice?" He asked.
"He's taught me how the body works, how I should act and try to comfort patients when I'm doing an operation, which instruments should be used and even gave me an assignment of reading 'The Lancet' in its entirety." Aaron spoke, pride in his voice.
"And how have you been finding these assignments?" He asked.
"I've experienced lit- well, I would agree that I have encountered some troubles, but nonetheless I have triumphed over them." Aaron smiled.
"I see." Silverworth said as he wrote this down.
In the first time that he had started asking, Silverworth turned his head up, his eyes meeting Aaron. His eyes held a fierce stare, locking with Aaron's confident eyes that were a stone wall to the small fear he hid behind. Silverworth asked his next question.
"This is a personal question, so you are under no obligation to answer if you wish not to." Silverworth stated, leaving Aaron to wonder at what he was going to ask of him.
"I would like to inquire as to why you wish to become a doctor." Silverworth asked, taking a brief pause before continuing. "Certainly a man of your… background wouldn't wish to become a surgeon." Dr. Silverworth asked Aaron, his eyes were sharp and his face was stern.
"M-my background?" Aaron asked in surprise. He pondered on it, but still kept his confident composure in front of Silverworth.
"Your father is a reputed merchant, and well… a lad such as yourself is expected to follow after in his footsteps. I'd like to know as to the desire to become a surgeon?" He asked Aaron, setting his clipboard aside and sitting one of his legs up.
In a flash, Aaron's mind traced back to two permanent memories that had always been edged into his mind.
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Flashback 5th of June, 1850
Seven year old Aaron was as happy as any boy could be at his age, running through the fields near his home without so much as opening his eyes and a smile of glee spread across his face. He skipped and jumped about, before stopping to spin around in circles until he fell down giggling. In a quick moment, his giggling ceased when he hit the ground with a hard THUD.
Squinting his eyes and trying to fend off the welling tears, Aaron placed his hand on his left leg and felt a small amount of blood beginning to ooze from a scratch that he had sustained. He started sniffling, and let the tears begin to poor from his eyes when he turned his head when a small YELP was heard somewhere close to him.
Turning in the direction that he heard the noise, Aaron got himself up onto his feet and moved forward. The height and noise of the swaying grass was making it somewhat hard for him to efficiently locate it, and the scratch he had sustained now began to sting, but he focused his mind on the source of the noise and continued making his way through the grass to find it.
Soon enough, young Aaron had found himself present at the source of the noise. In the middle of a small patch of open area, he found a small dog laying on its side with its head facing the other way. Cautiously kneeling down to inspect it, Aaron bent over the body to see that it was a small Labrador puppy. The poor animal had a large wound on its top side, and although Aaron could see it was still breathing, its breaths were heavy and long, taking in and gasping out air every few seconds.
He couldn't speak or bare to witness the poor thing's suffering, but out of courage or desperation, he picked up the puppy and quickly set into a run. Aaron began trying to remember where Mr. Jon's house was, believing that he could help save the poor animal before it was too-
In his attempt to deliver the puppy to Mr. Jon's, Aaron made the mistake of tripping down to the ground, causing the dog to fly from his hands. Flinching as he stood up, Aaron looked down in horror as the dog had gone limp, and gave no indication that it was on its last breath.
"P-p-?" Aaron whimpered in a low pitched voice, slowly walking over while beginning to cry at the sight of the deceased animal, seeing its cold and lifeless body caused him to stutter as he tried to speak. Slowly moving his legs backwards, Aaron nearly fell over, before he turned around and ran back to his house. His legs wobbled with every step he took, and Aaron almost fell over once or twice, but soon enough he made it to his home and that was the end of it.
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Flashback 11th of May, 1854
Aaron walked alongside his mother down Broad street in the Soto district of London, keeping to left of the pavement as much as possible. Holding his mother's hand tightly, Aaron made sure that he was standing next to her at all times while continuously flicking his head at the figures that passed them in the crowded masses, occasionally returning a dirty look or two towards someone.
'I won't let these thugs and crooks come anywhere close to my mother!' Thought Aaron, tightly holding his arm against hers as he helped escort her to the nearby florist store.
'Keep an eye out for sharp objects, observe the hands of the people closest to us!' Aaron's mind warned him, as he still tried to distance himself from anyone that looked even the least bit suspicious. Sharing her son's concern, Mrs. Grace Chapmen would dart her eyes carefully as she walked along the street.
"Mother, how much more must we walk until we arrive?" Aaron asked, his face became calm when he looked at his mother, but his eyes continued to hold onto that lingering sense of fear that the district and its people had on his mind. 'I have an awful feeling about this place' He said in his mind, wishing that he and his mother would soon arrive at their destination as soon as possible.
"We're almost there, Aaron." Grace replied to her son's question, stopping to check for something in her bag but grew upset when continuous fumbling resulted in nothing. Looking inside of her bag, she closed it.
"Oh dearie me, it seems that I've forgotten to take my flask with me." She said and looked around when her eyes caught an object of interest. A nearby water pump was not in any current use, and Grace could feel her first nagging at her to drink. "I know it's rather unbecoming of me, but a quick drink shouldn't hurt." She quietly said to herself, and walked over while taking out a piece of cloth to clean the handle and the pump. Aaron gave his mother assistance by holding the handle of the pump while she cupped her hands and sipped when it came, avoiding spilling any on her dress.
7 Hours Later
Mrs. Chapmen laid against her bead, each second her breathing grew heavier and raspier while her body twitched and spasmed in a desperate attempt to move, while she vomited all over herself and the bed. The covers were sprawled out on the floor after she had complained about the heat. An audience of doctors was stationed at the edge of the bed, many of whom attempted to comfort her.
Standing at the left side of the room was Mr. Vincent Chapmen and his son, Aaron. Both of their faces were wrinkled with sorrow and despair, tears were being shed mostly by Aaron who held onto his father's waist while Vincent tried to hold it back, his face turning red as he watched his wife cough and struggle in an attempt to move, her screams of pain echoed amongst the room.
One of the doctors came over to Vincent Chapmen, a sorry look plastered over his face as he regarded young Aaron with a rather concerned looked and whispered into Vincent's ear the news regarding his wife's condition. Aaron who was still the young boy as ever, began crying even harder into his father's trousers when he managed to overhear that his mother wouldn't be making it. The only thing making it worse, was the constant spams from his mother, her body ceasing to stay rested for even a second mixed with her continuously expulsing fluids from her body.
One of the doctors departed from their position and headed to Mr. Chapmen. As he headed, he gave a few seconds of a concerned look, before whispering into Mr. Chapmen's ear the news. Young, Aaron needed every ounce of mental strength he could muster to hold back the wave when he heard the words 'won't get better', already knowing in his mind what was going to happen to his mother. His mother continued to spasm, her body shook around rapidly as she threw up onto the floor, the resulting liquid was a light-brownish grey colour that splattered when it hit the floor.
Silent, Mr. Vincent Chapmen let out a massive sigh and placed his hands on his son's shoulders. Looking into his son's eyes, Vincent exchanged a red glance as he gently whispered into his son's ear "Go to her son… before it's too late."
Aaron mustered up all the courage he had, and nodded at his father without uttering a word before slowly approaching his mother. Wiping away some tears, Aaron held onto his mother's outstretched hand, the sudden action causing his mother to slowly cease her spasming around as she turned her head to face her son. "A-Aaron." She said, her breathing slowed as her throat collapsed and expanded. She reached out her other hand and gently stroked the side of her son's face above his left eye.
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Present
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Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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Rewriting Section
Planning
- Chapter 1
- Aaron is greeted by an inspector from the Royal College of London to see whether or not Aaron is qualified to become a surgeon, but Aaron ends up failing his test. He walks along the countryside to contemplate his failure and disheartenment, until he comes across Genevieve who
An inspector from the Royal College of London comes to Aaron's workshop to see whether or not he's qualified to become a surgeon, but Aaron was unable to pass the test. After taking a walk along the
Master Rewrite Version
The wooden floorboards violently shuddered after a loud CRASH erupted through the workshop. A collection of metal instruments littered the air, rising upwards before so suddenly coming down towards the floor. "A-aaaaaah!" Screamed the culpable individual, crouching with their arms outstretched before leaping forward with a bucket in hands, collecting each of the descending tools, their eyes concentrating on a sharply pointed knife that nearly slit down the front of their face.
Breathing a SIGH of relief and wiping away some of the sweat from his head, the young teenage boy got himself up to his knees, before placing the bucket of medical tools onto the table beside him. Panting in short breaths, he carefully looked at his legs to see how much injury he had suffered from his 'little' accident. Pulling up his trousers, he carefully inspected his kneecap to find that he had only sustained a few bruises, nothing that could be considered serious.
"Uh, I should probably bandage that just to be safe." He reassured himself, and quickly moved to towards his tool kit where he gently bandaged the minor wounds on his leg. Once he'd finally finished bandaging it, he turned his head to look up at the clock.
GAH He sputtered, quickly putting his hand into his pocket and fumbling around until he managed to grab his pocket watch. Pulling it out, he looked at the time displayed on it.
"Oh my word, I've only a minute before-"
A gentle KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK sounded from the other side of the door, interrupting his sentence.
"Good day Mr. Chapmen, may I come in?" Asked a soft-spoken voice from the other side, combined with a mix of a man somewhere in his early 30s. A cold and bland gaze placated itself across his face, leaving but a neutral expression as he stared at the door.
"S-sorry sir! I'll be right there!" Replied the youngster, quickly spinning his body around to grab the nearby bucket of tools and placing it on a shelf, spending a few extra seconds to adjust its position, before he hurriedly dashed to the door and gently swung it open. He stood up straight with a courageous, yet nervous smile to greet his guest.
The man gave a light and quiet chuckle, stepping in past the doorframe as he looked around the place.