Earworm - short stories inspired by songs

The Broken Mold

TW: suicidal thoughts, suicide, violence

The immortal did not run as they captured her, bound her hands, and gagged her. She did not cry or scream or laugh as all the others had. When they interrogated her for her evils, she only sighed.

I was the one who found her. And I was determined to be her savior. Months before, a scientist had discovered a way to reverse immortality, a way to turn immortal beings human again. I had just joined an international peace-keeping organization and volunteered to help run the project. Only five volunteered. The rest believed it was wrong to save the evil creatures who had murdered and tortured and hurt so many. But I had hope.

We had successfully captured and saved a few, but it took a while until the serum was foolproof. Even then, the saved immortals still died of injury or hysterics, while the rest were placed in mental institutions. But this one, this one was different. I could feel it.

I waited in the dim light outside the interrogation chamber, tapping my foot against the concrete. The door clicked open and my eyes met the interrogator's.

"Anything?" I asked, hopeful.

"Nothing. She's a wall of steel. I'm sorry."

"Please, can't we try again? I want to at least try and get her consent before we administer. Or at least a conversation, some answers?"

The interrogator pursed her lips. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Then at least let me try," I suggested. I'd always wanted to speak to one of the immortals.

"That isn't safe. Nor does it follow protocol, miss Marika." The interrogator's brows had scrunched into a tight line.

"This one hasn't been violent. And I've been trained. Please? We have nothing to lose," I pleaded with her.

Her only reaction was a twitch of the nose and a slight jerk of her head. I had won.

Trying not to jump with joy, I contained my excitement just enough to open the door. Inside was Ben, the grumpy security guard and my close friend, as well as the immortal. She looked to be around forty, with long and sinewy limbs. Her skin was not as pale as I'd expected and her frame was more angular than bony, yet her eyes were empty. It was the only indication of her sickness. Her immortality.

When she looked up at me, it was as if I could feel her power. She could kill me, easily. An uneasy part of me knew that if she really wanted, she could break out of her bonds and consume me in a flash. But she didn't. Instead, she leaned back.

"And what do you want, little bird?" she asked, brows raised. Her voice was like a lilting song, more musical and mesmerizing than anything I'd heard before.

"I- I um..." I stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words.

The immortal turned her head to the wall, staring blankly into its white nothingness. "Go on, then. Ask your questions."

She was demanding, used to being in charge. There was an arrogance to her tone as if she were my queen and I didn't even know it.

"Who are you?" was all I could think of at the moment.

"Your greatest nightmare." She barely blinked.

"Because you killed so many people? I went through the historical records. You allegedly killed more than one thousand over the centuries, but I would think the number is closer to ten thousand. Why did you do it?"

"However should I know? It was a boring existence. What else was I to do? And you are wrong. I do not count how many fall prey to me, I lost count a long time ago, but it is much more than that." There was no flinch or tone in her voice, just uncaring boredom.