From Infected Wretch to Pestilent Weapon
The opening moments of the first episode of The Pestilence paint a grim portrait of humanity through the eyes of Mr.Tropgar, a revelation of the brutal realities of a divided world. Mr. Tropgar, the dark luminary of the Hallows, a conglomerate of disease, lay not as a man but as a coalition of suffering. His "dingy rags," "soiled beyond repair," cling to an "emaciated flesh," each detail meticulously added, weaving a web of misery and despair. The very air he breathes, "acidic" and hope-draining, becomes a tangible antagonist, eroding not only his physical being but also his spirit. Through visceral sensory details, I attempt to plunge into the depths of his heart, a stark prelude to the unsettling transformation that awaits.
The Hallows themselves emerge as more than just a location; they are a symbol of societal neglect and decay. The "thick, mucky floor," the "slow oozing drip of human refuse" – these images paint a picture of a world where the discarded fester, both literally and metaphorically. Mr.Tropgar's daily ritual of tightening his belt, a futile attempt to contain his dwindling form, underscores the relentless nature of his suffering. His eyes, "protruded from his skeletal face," their whites replaced by a "thick, matte yellow," speak volumes of a body ravaged from within, a visual manifestation of the toxic environment that surrounds him. Even his attempts at simple relief, like licking his "desert-dry tongue," result in further pain, highlighting the pervasive cruelty of his existence. In this environment, survival is not living but a slow, agonizing erosion.
Juxtapose this with the second episode, the sterile, almost clinical environment of the Upper City, where Mr.Tropgar awakens in a "beautifully lit bedroom" with "pristine eggshell white paint." The "humming of a small air purifier" stands in stark contrast to the "slow oozing drip of human refuse" of his former life. The very air, once a tormentor, now "filled his slowly and deeply expanding and deflating lungs," offering a physical sensation unknown for decades. Mr.Hareton replaces the soiled rags with "grey and white cotton boxer briefs and a white silk undershirt," fabrics that "caress his once torn and blistered flesh," hinting at a physical healing that mirrors a potential shift in his fate. Even the "most comforting blankets," though perhaps unnecessary in the "climate-controlled environment," speak to a level of care and comfort unimaginable in the Hallows. Not only unimaginable, but a comfort that anyone can feel almost perfectly through either the clothing or the room, but doubling it over reveals the decadence Mr.Hareton experiences daily.
This dramatic shift in environment sets the stage for the unsettling intervention of Mr.Hareton. The eccentric man seemingly awaits the waking of Mr.Tropgar with an air of annoyed angst. His presence, looming over the unconscious Mr. Tropgar, is immediately imbued with a sense of unease. His murmurs about the Upper City being "more disgusting than the Hallows, though not in a physical sense, but in all ways further than skin deep," introduce a critical layer of moral ambiguity. The pristine facade of the Upper City, it seems, hides a more profound corruption, a societal rot that perhaps necessitates the creation of something as terrifying as "Pestilence."
Mr.Hareton's repeated utterances of "Pestilence" and "Infection" begin to frame Mr. Tropgar not as a victim but as a potential weapon. This introduces the complex power dynamics at play. Mr.Tropgar, once utterly powerless in the face of his suffering, is now gaining a twisted form of agency. He is no longer merely a wretch for the reader to pity; he is a tool, albeit a terrifying one, in Mr. Hareton's machinations. The question arises: Is this a rescue or a more insidious form of exploitation? Is Mr.Hareton saving Mr.Tropgar or simply repurposed for a darker purpose?
The term "Pestilence" has significant metaphorical weight. It evokes images of widespread disease, uncontrollable contagion, and societal collapse. By labeling Mr. Tropgar as such, Mr. Hareton is not just giving him a new identity; he is imbuing him with the potential for mass destruction. This raises profound ethical questions. Is it ever justifiable to weaponize suffering? Can a victim of systemic neglect transform into an instrument of retribution without further eroding their humanity? Does Mr.Tropgar possess humanity after his years in The Hallows?
Mr. Tropgar's awakening and his initial bewilderment at his newfound comfort underscore the profound impact of his previous suffering. His question, "Why do you want me? Why not do it yourself? Are you so worthless that you need an infected fuck like me?" reveals a lingering sense of his own worthlessness, a scar left by years of neglect. However, Mr. Hareton's chilling correction – "That's the thing! You aren't infected! You're a carrier of disease! You are Pestilence!" – marks a pivotal moment. It reframes Mr. Tropgar's very being, transforming his perceived weakness into a source of terrifying power.
The description of the intended "infection" is particularly gruesome: "rotting the inner lining of their stomachs, profusely launching bloody feces from their anus, leaking blood from their eyes as they bulged and attempted to scrape out the parasites." This visceral imagery highlights the brutal nature of the retribution Mr. Hareton envisions. The fact that this description "slowly eased Mr.Tropgar into desiring such a fate for the Upper City" is deeply disturbing. It suggests that the years of suffering in the Hallows have not only broken his body but also warped his sense of justice, twisting his pain into a desire for inflicting similar agony on those he perceives as his oppressors.
His chilling yet straightforward question, "Will I be able to… Watch?" reveals a nascent desire for agency, a hunger to witness the consequences of his transformation. Mr.Hareton's "devious to downright evil" smile and his emphatic "Oh, Mr.Tropgar, I insist that you do" solidify the sinister nature of their pact. The question "So how about it… Will you become The Pestilence?" is not a request but a confirmation, a sealing of Mr. Tropgar's new, terrifying identity.
Mr. Tropgar's act of standing, a simple action made significant by his previous emaciation, symbolizes a reclaiming of physical presence and perhaps a burgeoning sense of self. Shunning Mr. Hareton's assistance is a subtle act of defiance, a first step towards asserting his own will within this new dynamic. His final words, "Then let's go for a walk," are deceptively simple, yet they carry the weight of his transformation. The "wretch" of the Hallows is gone, replaced by something far more complex and potentially far more dangerous. He is no longer merely surviving; he is stepping into a new role, a role defined by the suffering he has endured and the horrifying purpose Mr. Hareton has laid out for him.
The journey from the depths of the Hallows to the sterile heights of the Upper City has permanently altered Mr. Tropgar. Mr.Hareton's removal of him from The Hallows alters his former identity and offers a new one forged in pain and the promise of retribution. The narrative leaves us with a profound sense of unease, contemplating the ethical implications of such a transformation and the potential for a victim to become the ultimate weapon. The story of Mr.Tropgar is not just one of physical change, but a chilling exploration of how someone can weaponize and ultimately redefine the very essence of a human being.
