"The good news," the masked doctor says. "Is that you don't have the plague. A severe case of influenza is still cause for concern though."

You groan as she dabs your forehead with a cool, wet cloth held in gloved hand.

"I'll need to stay with you for a few more days," she adds. "Until your fever breaks."

She takes some herbs out of her case and grinds the plants down before mixing in water. She pours the cool drink into your mouth.

"This will help with the fever and the pain," she says as she gently caresses your head.

Your name is ${name}. You're a hunter who brings food into your village. When you fell ill, the townsfolk thought you may have caught the plague and sent the town's doctor to tend to you. You've asked for her help on several occasions since she moved into town, although you've never seen her face. She always keeps herself covered head-to-toe, even in the middle of summer. Despite her idiosyncrasies, she's always seemed friendly and eager to help. As you suddenly start awake, you realize you've been asleep for days.

You first notice her mask, which is laid across your lap. Turn turn your head slowly to see her eyes widening with her mouth latched firmly to the inside of your elbow. She gives a final, nervous suck before releasing and grabbing for her mask.

"I—I'm sorry!" she sputters. "I didn't mean—"

You look down at the y-shaped incision on your arm as a slow trickle of blood runs down it. You look back at the doctor's face. Her skin is pale and transparent, with streaks of black running underneath.

"You're not—" you begin.

"Human, no," she sighs. "I'm a leech-girl."

You nod slowly as the words sink in.

"And I haven't been drinking you blood this whole time!" she adds nervously. "I only take what I need to survive."

"It's fine," you say, slowly sitting up. "You saved my life didn't you?"

"Yes, but that still doesn't excuse my behavior."

"I never got your name," you continue. "We all just call you 'doctor.'"

"Lyssa," she says softly.

"I should thank