The Only

Chapter Twenty-Two - Karl

Karl took his time walking back to the lab. He wanted to give Cesar as much time as possible to examine Roland. Shuffling through the door, his foot bumped into something — a hand. Cesar's hand.

The odd man was sprawled on the floor, his pale eyes were wild, and his normally bright skin was sallow with a yellow-tinged shade. A loud, gravelly noise came from deep within his throat as he struggled to breathe. Karl immediately crouched down to help him. There was no blood; there was no wound.

What was wrong with him?

His large, double-knuckled hand grabbed Karl. Hard. Karl cried out in pain. The grip was surprisingly strong for a wounded man.

Cesar took in a wheezy breath. "Erol," he choked out.

"Erol did this?

"Erol," he hissed, "but she tried..." He attempted to lift his head. A loud yelp of pain, like a dog whose tail has been stepped on, came out of his throat.

Karl cradled Cesar's head. "Shh. Don't speak. I need to examine you."

The lab was in complete disarray. The refrigerator door was wide open. Karl instantly noticed that things were missing — blood samples.

Cesar violently shook his head in Karl's hands, exposing large purple contusions beginning to bloom around his throat and up along his face. "She tried to..."

"She who?"

Cesar's extra-long finger pointed to the opposite side of the room. "She..." Tears spilled out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He closed them in agony and then passed out.

Karl quickly checked his pulse. He still lived. Thank goodness. The steady beat timed out at one hundred and thirty beats per minute. Cesar's pupils were dilated. Completely normal, right? As normal as it could be for a mutated hybrid of two species that he had yet to fully understand.

Following Cesar's elongated finger, his stare stopped on the body of Yasmin. Forgetting everything about the room, Karl scrambled to her. She lay motionless. Her eyes, once bright with such whimsy, were dark. Empty. Empty of the life that had shown through them. There was no need to check for a pulse. The angle of her neck demonstrated it had been snapped. Her long, lovely neck.

He reached over and closed her eyes, and then gently took her in his arms.

"No," he whispered to her. "Not you. Not this way."

He felt the fight begin within him. A war against the tightness forming in his chest, and the sob that slowly pushed its way through his clenched throat.

"No!" he screamed with all his might. The cry erupted from his throat and echoed off the wall of the lab, ricocheting over him, drowning him in a tidal wave of sadness and despair. It was like nothing he had ever felt. There was no sound. It was if he were in a vacuum. His anguish was so profound he couldn't hear the long drawn out wail his throat let out.

He sat on the floor and wrapped her in his arms, ignoring Neima when she slid next to him and tried to take Yasmin from him. Karl was no longer interested in containing his emotions. His sobs and cries pummeled through his throat like bullets through a machine gun. He couldn't move. He couldn't let go of her. His tear-stained face contorted in heartache.

"Karl," Neima said, "Karl, you need to let go."

"S-someone's k-killed her. She's b-been m-murdered," he screamed.

Neima gently touched Yasmin's face and leaned forward to check her breath.

She continued to examine her. Karl knew she was looking for a wound.