Patient A-3

Chapter 48: The Cure

Wrath

With keen scrutiny, I search for any flicker of deceit, but my suspicions find no foothold. Taking a cautious step forward, I'm swiftly halted by Cierien, his words a jumble that I effortlessly block out. Amidst the blur, Avalyn's voice rings out, commanding attention with unwavering certainty. "I want you to do it," she insists, her tone imbued with determination and conviction.

Cierien's expression crumbles at her declaration, his shock palpable as he struggles to comprehend her words. Pushing him away, I close the distance between Avalyn and me, gripping her waist firmly, drawing her closer for what seems like a final embrace.

Her lack of resistance unnerves me, her body yielding in my hold with an unsettling ease. As I press my lips against her skin, seeking solace in the steady thrum of her pulse, a sense of calm washes over me. Her breaths, her heartbeat, all familiar and reassuring. I part my lips, running my tongue over the point of my fangs. Yet, as I prepare to claim the freedom I've yearned for since childhood, my resolve wavers. Despite my longing, I find myself unable to follow through with the act. In fact, the mere thought of extinguishing Avalyn's heartbeat, of snuffing out the life pulsating beneath my touch, sends a sudden surge of nausea through me.

My lips tremble, and my eyes squeeze shut as if trying to block out the world. Collapsing to my knees, I find myself mirroring the very stance I judged Cierien for, burying my head in her legs, consumed by a sense of helplessness. The journal I once clutched tightly slips from my fingers, landing on the floor with an echoing thud. "I... I just can't," I whimper, my voice barely audible, utterly defeated, my pride shattered into fragments of self-doubt.

My hands grip the back of her thighs with a desperate grip, fearing that she might slip away from me. "Please," I plead, my voice quivering. "I-I can be better than this. Just give me another chance"

Her hand tightens in my hair, attempting to pull me away, and that's when the panic really sets in. With a desperate resolve, I dig my nails into the soft plush of her thighs, refusing to let her go. "I'm... I'm sorry," I stammer, my voice cracking. "Please, don't leave me. I'll do anything to make it right. I can be better, Av. Don't you see? I can't hurt you. I could never hurt you. I'd never-" My words trail off into a choked sob as the weight of my own inadequacies presses down upon me.

"You did hurt me."

I shake my head frantically, tears cascading down my face as I look up at her through my lashes. "I can fix it," I blurt out, my distress evident in every word. "I-I can be better. I'll fix it. I don't want to be like this. I can fix it-"

Words spill from me in a frantic torrent, but it takes me a moment to register the melodic laughter that escapes her lips, each note a dagger to my already wounded pride. I flinch at the sound, refocusing my eyes to meet her gaze, only to find her wearing an eerily soft smile. "There is no cure, Wrath," she whispers, her words landing like a heavy blow. With a swift motion, she snatches her phone from my grasp, leaving me on my knees in stunned silence as she glides past me and out the door, her haunting smile lingering in the air long after she's gone.

Cierien and I both linger in oppressive stillness. The sound of her retreating footsteps echoes through the silence before she returns, a heavy weight settling in the pit of my stomach. As I begin to turn my head to face her, I'm abruptly struck by the sharp pain of heavy objects colliding with my face- journals.

"Those are my father's journals," she declares with a mixture of anguish and resignation, her voice heavy with emotions. "He kept them hidden in his office. They confirm that all the experiments on me... they were futile."

I reach with trembling fingers toward the closest, my heart pounding in my chest as I skim through the pages, searching for the truth she speaks of. With each word I read, a sense of dread tightens its grip around my chest until it feels as though my very soul is being crushed. The confirmation I find in those pages shatters the fragile hope I've clung to for so long, leaving me feeling hollow and defeated.

Besides me, Cierien drops to the floor, his hand swiftly swiping the journal from my grasp as he reads the damning words for himself. "They got rid of Four and Five once they realized it wasn't working," he murmurs quietly.

"How could you have possibly believed this would work for both of you?" she demands, her voice tinged with incredulity as she steps up behind us. Her expression borders on manic, eyes flashing with a mix of anger and disbelief. "From the moment you first attempted to take my life, it was evident your plan was flawed. So, explain to me, when you concluded that draining me completely was necessary, how did it ever occur to you that two individuals could take it? Your logic falls apart at the seams. According to your theory, every drop of my blood would need to be consumed, yet only one person could possibly drink it all. It's a paradox of your own making."

She exhales a weighty sigh, her disbelief palpable as she scoffs and shakes her head, as though she's reprimanding us for our folly. "And even if, by some miracle, your reckless scheme had succeeded, then what? Did you honestly think you'd be free from all concerns? In your wildest imaginings, did you picture everything seamlessly falling into place once you became human? Neither of you comprehends the true essence of humanity."

Tears brim in my eyes as Cierien begins spewing out more apologies, but she presses on, disregarding his words and addressing me directly. "You've been so consumed by the singular desire for the cure, letting it cloud your judgment entirely. If only you had paused for a moment, used all those long years confined in a cell, and truly considered the consequences, perhaps you would have seen the glaring illogicality of the entire scheme. You've squandered years fantasizing and longing for something that was destined to fail," she taunts, her laughter carrying a cruel edge. "Even if it did succeed."

And if her previous words weren't already the worst thing I've ever heard, she delivers the final blow with a twist of the knife, "I've always seen you for what you are, Wrath- A monster." Her eyes shift to Cierien, his visage a pitiful sight with tears and snot streaking his red, splotchy face. "At least Cierien had the sense to try and intervene sooner. I can recognize that he's never been the brightest, and likely only went along with your reckless plan to appease you."

"W-We can make this right," Cierien stammers out, brushing aside her veiled insult, his words tumbling out in a jumble. "We love you."

I can't be certain if this feeling qualifies as love, but it certainly stings just as I imagined it would. "I love you," he says, dropping the we, creating a distance between us as he begs for acceptance. I can't fault him for it. "Don't you love me, too?"

"No," she retorts flatly, her eyebrows furrowing together in disdain as she surveys us with a look of secondhand embarrassment. "Now, get the hell out of my house."

Cierien springs to his feet, and I flinch, anticipating the impending struggle of trying to restrain him. Before I can even rise, he's already grabbed her arm, but she swiftly shakes him off, regarding him with disgust as if he's the biggest nuisance in the world. "You lied!" she seethes, pushing him away. "I could never love you."

The bedroom door slams shut behind her, the lock clicking in place. Despite her attempt to maintain a facade of strength, her vulnerability is laid bare as her snuffled sobs tear through the air from the confines of her bathroom. Cierien sinks against the door, and I shuffle over, lowering myself beside him. He leans into me, and I welcome him, wrapping an arm around him and drawing him close.

"Why didn't she stop me?" I murmur softly. "If she knew she wasn't the cure, why did she allow me to get close enough to hurt her?"

Cierien's sobs subside just enough for him to articulate a response. "We can't leave."

"What can we do?"

"Fix it," he whines.

I resist the urge to forcibly break through the door. The temptation to rush in, to demand resolution, lingers, but a sobering realization has me keeping myself rooted on the ground- such an impulsive act would only push her further away.

With a heavy heart and no clear plan in sight, I grapple knowing that there's no immediate solution to mend what's broken between us. The need for space, both for her and myself, becomes painfully apparent. But even as I acknowledge this, a nagging doubt creeps in- can I truly give her the space she needs? Can I truly find the strength to release her, even if it's for her own well-being?

Her poignant words echo relentlessly in my mind, a haunting refrain that tugs at the deepest corners of my soul. I might never possess the fortitude to let her go, no matter how desperately she pleads, no matter how many tears may flow. I'm a monster, after all. Her monster.

"We'll wait out here as long as necessary."