Ron Darling Illness Novels & Stories

Adam walked in. "Mr. Langston," the doctor said, sounding almost surprised. "You’re here." I ignored his outstretched hand. "What’s going on?" He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and nodded slightly, as if steadying himself. "It’s nothing very serious," he began. "Darian developed a sudden metabolic deficiency. His body isn’t converting nutrients into energy as efficiently as it should — that’s why he became weak and collapsed." I stared at him, searching his face.

Dorian says. “In simple terms?” “Extremely rare. I would even bet there is not a single piece of literature in this academy’s library that records a mutation like your blood.” I blink. Even I did not know my blood was rare. I am only a defective wolf. Could that be the cause? Does my defect make my blood mutate differently? Dorian studies me closely, then folds his arms across his chest. “You are getting paler, Golden Prince. Your lips are turning blue, and your breathing is uneven,” Dorian observes carefully. “That potion you are drinking… it is trash.”

It was over. It was all finally over. Darcy didn't die, but she suffered so much more torture that she would probably have been better off if she were dead. Since she had wilting wolf syndrome, a rare degenerative mutation, and had also been poisoned by a mixture of toxins, she was considered of great research value and was taken away by a secretive research institute. Apparently, she would be living out the rest of her life locked up in a special silver cage, having her blood drawn and muscle cells sliced off to undergo experimentation every day.

I lean over to hand her a long, thin rod she’d been reaching for and she wipes her brow as she takes it from my hand, paying me little more attention than she would if I were another one of her devices. “We will need to give you another dose,” she grunts. “Tonight, before the meal. That way, when you get sick, she can’t blame it on the food.” Nodding, I agree to her plans to drug me and place me under a type of light sleep. Eleanora wants to have her way with my body like she did once before, but Kora has been denying her that pleasure by “infecting” me each night, helping me to fake having the early signs of the new blight. Very few dragons have fallen ill, and most of them are from lower s

It seemed that the Carver ancestors were very tolerant of kids like him. Everything was peaceful until some hapless spirit knocked on the residence's memorial room door. Only evil spirits could hear it. Nyx sat up immediately, pausing his favorite cartoon before waking Aria up. Aria seemed to be having a nightmare; she was frowning slightly in her sleep. … Aria hadn't had such a dream in a very long time. It was so vivid, as if the events had really transpired. In her dream, Warren's illness spread to his heart and lungs, and his phlegm would be laced with blood whenever he coughed a bit too hard. He told no one about it and didn't announce it publicly—Stephen, his butler, was the only one w

Chapter 291 Tara had always thought that Delbert had no interest in women and that she was the only one who could stay by his side. She had believed she would become his wife one day. But to her surprise, not long ago, Delbert married a foolish girl. Unable to accept it, she had bribed everyone in the manor in a few months and learned how to cause Vicky's illness, which had already been almost cured, to relapse. Vicky suffered from a serious mental illness, and when she had an attack, she behaved like a mad person and even hurt people.

“I’ve known Dorian for over a decade. There have always been subtle signs. He was just in so much denial it was almost painful to watch.” “He did say it when he wasn’t in his right mind,” I rushed to explain, clutching the phone tighter. “He had a fever from silver poisoning and he was delirious and—” “It bothers you,” she cut in gently. “That’s why you called me?” I could only hum in response, unable to form words past the lump in my throat, which made her sigh softly.

Michael snapped, the edge in his voice clear. I leaned closer, my heart suddenly racing. “The scratch Anna left on Darla’s face isn’t healing,” the doctor said. “It’s spreading. Fast. She’s dying.” My hand flew to my mouth as tears instantly filled my eyes. Dying? I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was only trying to protect myself—and Dawn. “She’s never shifted before. Her body is still new to all of this,” the doctor continued. “But it wasn’t her blood that caused this. Her blood’s clean. It’s something in her nails, possibly something ancient. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He didn’t look back at Aurora, didn’t wait for an explanation, didn’t even pause. Aurora’s chest ached so deeply she thought she might shatter. The knowledge of who had called was enough. Lilith. It was always Lilith. The doctor exhaled heavily, drawing her attention back. “We’re still trying to understand her illness,” he explained gently. “Two years ago, when she first fell sick, we ruled out cancer. But it is something rare, something we cannot yet name. We can’t create an antidote when we don’t know what it is.”

While I curled up on the couch next to Darren. My throat tightened as his name invoked a memory bring his image to the forefront of my mind. Darren. My wonderful, loving, husband had been taken early in the epidemic as well. He had gotten the sickness with everyone else, including Johnny, and had succumbed to the illness the same day our town had been over run. Johnny had only survived thanks to the strange Magic of our guide, Avamarie. She gave me a necklace with a black stone hanging from it with a brilliant yellow star in the center; or it had been brilliant at first. But the star had dulled and become cracked.