Preface (writing a book in bits and pieces could take a while...)

The message came out of nowhere and at first, Dugan was taken aback, for he knew interaction or business of any kind with the witch doctor would be dealt with harshly, perhaps even costing him his very life.  However, the witch doctor's initial call was alluring and seductive, and he entertained it for what he thought would be a harmless moment - just long enough to briefly contemplate the proposition.  The few unlucky individuals he knew to have had any relationship with the witch doctor had all turned completely mad for want of the goods offered, then withdrawn without notice or explanation at the doctor's discretion.  Furthermore, and perhaps most importantly, there would be no cure in the elixir offered up by the doctor, yet Dugan found himself completely devoid of the willpower to fight or question the doctor's motives, for he felt he had tried literally everything else.  After the witch doctor made several requests to assist via a messenger, Dugan finally accepted the offer, in hopes of some or any relief.  Now, the doctor did not see it fit to come in person, rather sending the goods to Dugan by way of the messenger.  Dugan was immediately disappointed at how little relief was potentially offered, after all his weighty deliberation, when the messenger placed the tiny vial of elixir in his ever-weakening hand.  His hand, sweaty from anticipation and clammy with fever, nearly lost hold of the vial while trying to unstopper it, and his heart was nearly beating outside of his chest, for he had finally come to the point of which he knew there would be no return to the former self.  If he drank the contents of the tiny vial, he knew he would be hooked.  He knew it wouldn't, in the long run, do him any good.  He knew he could lose everything if the people discovered his dreadful transaction.  None of the small amount of logic remaining in him could will him to forsake his contract with the dreadful doctor once the enticing aroma from the vial was unleashed on his senses.  Never had he smelled anything so lovely, as he drank in the combined scents of lavender and jasmine, with a hint of cedar wood.  He would have to deal with the consequences later, because he now had all but lost total control of what had once been a sound mind and good conscience, stripped bare by his ravaging illness.