The Ballad of Blood-Man
by Paul G. Tremblay

He simply appeared one day without skin, muscle or bone. Without eyes, mouth or even a face. But he told me could see.

And I was afraid.

He was the color of health. Clotting, churning, roiling into humanoid form. Or a puddle, or a star, depending on what he wished to be. Cells in complete unity and perfect harmony. He was a being of one.

Yet we were afraid.

A pariah shunned and spurned from our cities, our towns, despite his best intentions. He only wanted to help. Undaunted, he sought the poor and sick. He entertained with wondrous transformations. He donated freely of himself.

And they were not afraid.

But for every diseased child he visited, every infected soul he comforted, Blood-Man absorbed their sickness, their bacteria, their virus. All floated within, tainting his being, his one. He never fell ill.

But he was afraid.

For he could not live in exile, it was not in his being. Despite his philanthropy, his undying will to help, he was contagious. He spread a lifetime of collected disease and sorrow. Lives wilted and withered in his shadow like overwatered flowers.

Now, I am all that is left.

And he is here with me. The healthy red jaundiced. His sadness weighs like a thousand lost dreams. I try to say something of comfort. Something of meaning.

But I only cough…

And I am afraid.

Paul G. Tremblay is an Active Member of the Horror Writers Association. He has sold a bunch of stuff to places like Punktown: Third Eye, Black October Magazine, Fangoria, Vivisections, Gothic.net, Brainbox II, Carnival, and Book of Final Flesh. He won the 2002 Chiaroscuro/Leisure short story contest and soon after became the fiction editor at Chizine.

Other points of mild interest: He has earned a bachelor's and master's degree in Mathematics, which as we all know are prerequisites for horror writers. By day he teaches math and coaches basketball at a private school. His wife, son, and Rascal the dog often make fun of him when his back is turned. He is currently working on a novel and breaking his record of 27 three-pointers in a row. He is tall, handsome, and has no uvula.