The Only

Chapter Six - Karl

Karl followed the petite woman up the grand staircase. The home was magnificent in every way. The stairwell was decorated with elegant wallpaper and accented with rich wood trim. A large, opulent chandelier hung above, and its crystals reflected small rainbows around the room. Old portraits of highly fashionable people in a variety of time periods hung on the walls.

They stopped on the next level and proceeded down an even more elaborate hallway. Karl watched Finley walk in front of him. Her small frame stomped purposely down the hall, passing many closed wooden doors. How many bedrooms did this place have?

"Listen," he said to Finley's back. "I'm trying my hardest to understand this incredibly bizarre affair. I mean, I lose another patient to this untreatable virus, some hugely likable guy convinces me to get in a car with him, even though every fiber of my being tells me to stay where I am, and on top of that, I witness Neima change into an entirely different person. Something totally inconceivable by any scientific study."

Finley stopped walking and turned to look at him. "She said you had seen her morph. It is hard to think she allowed an observer." Her voice was flat, robotic-like.

"I kind of brought it on. At least I think I did. I'm still trying to piece together how the electrical impulses from the defibrillator accelerated her transformation. There must be some sort of electrical component, but of course without a complete examination, I'm left at only supposition."

His mind spun as he pondered. He made a mental note to explore the electrical hypothesis later.

"You shocked her?" Finley had a disapproving tone.

Was she upset? Shocked? Why? He saved her life. At least, he thought he did.

"I thought she was having a heart attack. She stopped breathing."

Finley nodded and resumed walking. "Her breathing ceases during a transformation."

"You mean you've seen it?" Karl ran a few steps to catch up.

"I've been with the Only since I was a week old. Of course, I have seen her change."

She stopped in front of a large wooden door. A portrait of a man wearing a kilt and other Scottish regalia hung to the right of it. Removing a large key from her sweater pocket, Finley unlocked the door and gestured for Karl to enter.

The room was immense and unusually cozy with a large bed in the center. Although it was warm outside, a fire burned in the fireplace. Karl wrinkled his nose at the smell of creosote. Great. Danger in his own room.

Finley proceeded into the room, oblivious to the huge possibility of a chimney fire. Karl snapped his hands to his hips as he surveyed his surroundings. As large as the fireplace was, he was positive the burning gases had cooled, liquefied, and then hardened to coat the pipes and chimney with the hazardous material. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen. He had to act fast.

Not willing to waste any more time calculating the likelihood of a fire, Karl grabbed the ice bucket from on top the bureau and dumped it over the fire. The flames sputtered and gasped as they fell to their death. No need to worry. He had saved them both.

Finley stared at him; her hand slowly moved upward to cover her open mouth.

He had done it again. He had done something out of the ordinary and made someone stare at him in that way that just made him feel even more different. Her look was incomprehensible to him.

Finley dropped her hand and closed her mouth. Her large hazel eyes looked at him, to the fireplace, back to him. Stepping forward, she took the ice bucket that hung loosely from Karl's hand. "You've got a problem with fire, laddie?"