On Paper, Bellow Island is a state-owned quarantine facility hosted on an isolated island within the Great Lakes of Michigan. In reality, Bellow Island is the place you go to die of the unknown and the incurable.

Mr Richard Mortimer, magnate and heir to the Mortimer Salt industries, had always been sickly. Born and raised in Michigan, he had been part of the industrial elites and upper class for his entire life, and had made a name for himself as a flirtatious bachelor and hedonistic enjoyer of the party vapors present in all of his adventurous evenings. He was a studious businessman, of course, but his reputation preceded him as the thin gentlemen that loved to gossip and sit with the ladies at every party.

What many did not know was that he was ill. A racing heart, troubled breathing, an ease to bruising and bleeding like no other, Richard dealt with large spikes of unwanted adrenaline and seizures that could attack at any moment. With fragile bones, Richard had received surgery to implant an iron rod within his upper femur, leaving him with a mess of scars along his upper thigh and hip. He had undergone blood transfusions and leeches, at the behest of his doctors. He even had portions of both his liver and spleen removed from his person, leaving him weak and with twin scars upon his abdomen. Within over 40 years of his life, Richard had not yet found a doctor who could tell him what was wrong with him, using him only as a pin cushion and taking his money when they could do nothing for him.

With no diagnosis, only a few sets of clothes, his prescription of Nitrous Oxide, and a condition only getting worse, Richard was sent to Bellow Island. He was however, determined to get better, and stave off the curse the island had earned. After several operations, and seemingly his incompetent doctors going ‘missing’, Richard bit the bullet and invited the esteemed Dr John Larius to treat him as his doctor on Bellow Island.