The End

Part II: Chapter 2

            I found myself on the steps of a house I’d not been to since September. Duke’s fingers gently brushed the black hair from my face as the wind blew around us.

            “Relax.”

            Stephens opened the door after the knock sounded, looking nervous, yet pleased by our presence.

            “Follow me,” he commanded, turning and marching into the depths of the house. He led us to the stairwell that emptied into his lab.

            Trailing behind as his quickly scuttled down the steps, the large, clean basement materialized. As I entered the space that had once been my womb—the room I had murdered the four like me—I knew why we were here.

            To the right of the door, stood the tank I responsible for my existence. The steady hum of the respirator confirmed my worries. There were more.

            Duke slowly began to piece together what was going on; the lab, the tank, the respirator, his sudden need for more Sub-D, the four floating bodies that were encapsulated before us—Stephens created more.

            Watching like an animal stalking it’s prey, Stephens prowled, his dead eyes alight with hatred, his mind aroused at the thought of destruction—my destruction. He had not called us here because he was in need of help.

            “What’s the matter, Florence?’ he hissed. “Is something wrong?”

            “You monster,” I muttered, rage filling my body as he laughed.

            “I’m not the monster here, oh no. I’m human, which is more than you can say for yourselves.” Duke tensed beside me as the wicked man drew nearer to us. “Would a monster allow someone to live, even though they were worthless? Would a monster give someone shelter for years, even though they were disgusting? Would a monster accept the failure of an experiment and give up trying when the world could benefit from his efforts?” he asked, backing away. His hand reached to caress the tank, tenderly stroking the glass. “No.”

            Unable to move, unable to draw away though I knew what was coming, I watched in horror as he opened the lid.

            Hands groped longingly, the first tiny body being pulled from the tank. It looked like a normal baby at first, but as he drew nearer, any similarities disappeared. The slick body was pale; it’s bluish-white skin dull in the harsh florescent light. The tiny thing’s stomach caved in, it’s ribs visible. Though it’s frail chest heaved, the infant made no sound. Straining, it opened its eyes. Black.

            I wanted to scream, but the sound escaped me. The world spun as I clutched to Duke’s hand for support. Nerves on fire, my body acted without thought. Pulling duke behind me, we scaled the stairs at the speed of light. Feet pounded down the hallway, the door slamming, resonating like a gunshot. Before I became aware of myself, I was pushed into the car, Duke quickly driving away from the monster’s den.

            Speed limits were forgotten as we crossed the town. When he finally slowed for a red light, Duke’s hand found mine, his fingers pulling me from the dark recess I had reverted to—memories, dark and twisted memories that would be best if forgotten.

            “I’m so sorry,” he muttered.

            “It’s not your fault.”

            “You need to leave,” he spoke suddenly.

            “W-what?”