The story so far:
Samuel Wesley didn't know Dennis, and it was just as well, for if he had he may have been too disturbed to add to his jar. But as usual, Samuel wasn't disturbed and did add to his jar. He lit a cigarette and smiled to himself.
"That was a good one!"
He planned on taking a break for lunch and then adding a few more doses. This would be his fifth mason jar this week and he was feeling a bit piqued.
For two years now, exactly the same amount of time as Dennis, Samuel would begin filling jars at nine-o’clock on Wednesdays. The only difference was, unlike Dennis, Samuel couldn’t stop. He would begin filling at nine and continue as long as he could during the day. Sometimes he would continue on through Thursday and Friday. Once, he even made it to Saturday. Afterwards, he would lay exhausted on his bed and stare at the ceiling.
In spite of the intense pleasure he found in making his contributions, his body would ache. The aching was what prompted him to give another dose and so on and so on. He was addicted.
It all started when he met Jason at the business mixer sponsored by the Egyptian Embassy. Funny now, he thought. Since that night, he hadn’t been back to work and was now officially out of business. He didn’t have the time or the energy.
He had moved back in with his mother and she was sure he suffered from depression. She took him to the best doctors and they ran test after test but couldn’t find anything to show why he was so run down. He was gaunt and listless. He rarely ate. He would stay in his bedroom behind locked doors for most of the day. Occasionally he would come out, eat a little bite, drink a little water and use the bathroom.
Only one doctor had made any headway with his case. He had wanted a full history of Samuel’s life and had discovered the reason for his state. He stared at Samuel for the longest time before speaking.
“I’m going to recommend you see an associate of mine,” the doctor said. “He’s going to help you. I’ll also need to tell your mother about…ah, your inclination.” Samuel reported this back to the Priestess. The doctor never made it home that night. A “heart attack” ended his career and ended any chance of mother finding out.
Jason had introduced him to the Priestess Annora. She was the one who had given out the quests. He was so unworthy of her attention, but she had assured him that his was a most important responsibility to the continuance of her line. He was not to be a tear collector, or one who perspires. He was not a blood letter or refuse donator. Nothing so base for one so important, she had said. You are my seed collector. And with that, he felt moved to give another dose.
