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February, 19:54, 2006.
I like to think about things I wish I'd never seen but most importantly I wish I hadn't seen myself adjust to any of it.
Like the way He spoke to me:
"It's the only thing you have to remember. The only thing you need to believe."
It's all I've ever known. It's all I ever wanted. To lure in a human and kill it, slowly. To see hear it squeal like a pig and then hide yet still die every single time. Never live to tell the tale of the little girl with blue eyes who walked alone in strange places and did stranger things in the dark.
I like to think about the day my world will end. It's not today but it's coming. My heart shall be still and myself gone. You will not remember me.
I also think of him, the man walking next to me, and her, my sister. I can see her in his eyes - she drove a good man insane. Aliza lost the will to change, gave up on herself. So the good girl did a bad thing. She walked on the wild side, on the edge for too long, felt what it was like until she snapped. It wasn't supposed to happen that way.
Believe me.
It wasn't.
Forrest could never tell us apart, to him, we looked exactly the same, did the same things and sounded like the same old broken record. For that reason, I believe she is as culpable as he is. It always takes two to cheat.
I snap out of the memory to look at my hands. They're trembling. Goosebumps coat my arms.
"The potential source of infection," Forrest starts, making a short pause, "harbors diseased organisms in her body without manifesting symptoms, thus, acting as a distributor of the infection."
I can't exactly explain what it was that made me notice him. Maybe it's the way he waits for an answer or what he reminds me of. Or maybe it's the hero he pretends to be. And I like heroes. I like watching them bleed and die. Or maybe it's just what I hoped he would be. Or rather what I expected.
"Is she capable of transmitting it to others? To us?" Whenever he is afraid of something his heartbeat goes three beats faster than usual.
He is running out of words to say.
Tick-tock.
We both stop walking next to a remote cottage. Itappears to be untouched on the inside since its owners left it more than a decade ago. The whole building is being reclaimed by the elements.
The village which has only sixty-two residents is ten kilometers away, around 1968, most of them left. People have always been afraid of what they don't understand, especially my sister.
I feel Forrest's large, warm hand resting on my shoulder, and it's instantly comforting; some sort of desperation grows within me. The devil within wants out.
His cruel curiosity is satisfied for now. He knows I still think of him, despite the whole thing that already happened.
When I look at him I don't see him anymore, only what he didn't do. What he didn't say. The afterglow of all the lies remains, much like my disappointment.
"Did you bring the cure?" He asks, for the hundredth time. He knows what he is doing.
"The infectious agents form a chain which can pass through bacteria and replicate within the host. This chain contains all the biochemical mechanisms for their own replication. It has thousands of genes on each link. Every single one produces a different toxin..."
... which is not a danger to our kind.
"Where is it?" His heartbeat is rising again and I start to smell hidden motives. Rage flows like blood through my veins. My limit has been reached.
It is a very violent word for it lessens who you are; it makes you an animal under extinction and you may not last long. It makes you fear heights, dirt, small things and dust left behind by strangers.
Forrest stares at me blankly unhappy with my reply.
Right now he is in my way. And I want to get even.
Shame on him. But like all the others before him, he'll never know what hit him. They don't see me closing in until I make them suffer.
I make no excuses. It's a waste of my precious time.
What brought me here was the sighting of a woman who had been dead for seventy years. The not-so-dead lady had flaky skin, black veins, and open wounds. All of the above are signs of a specific infectious agent.
Our heads turn towards each other, both sensing someone so I slap his hand away from my shoulder. This time, he isn't looking at me.
A human is running in our direction. What is it with humans showing up where they aren't wanted?
The human stops running when he spots us. His entire body is shaking while his vale eyes are fixed on something or rather someone.
As soon as he sees Forrest he takes a step back. I suppose he feels intimated by him. After all, Forrest looks like a cold-blooded killer.
The human is armed with nothing but a gun and I see no sign of the virus.
Forrest remains silent, his heartbeat slows, and his features relax. "This is forcing you to face your own monstrous lineage and the cost of your dark life."
Forrest looks at me then smiles like he is trying to find a way out.
I don't respond, I can't. I simply ignore him because it hurts him more.
This sudden change in conversation, however, means something.
"She told me you'd come."
The human's voice is as clear as his morbid intentions.
"For her."
He certainly feels like he knows her and maybe he does.
"I'll put you down".
He thinks has the world all figured out; his chest is puffed up with pride.
Idiot!
"You won't get to her."
He laughs to himself like he knows-it-all.
"Over my dead body."
I can and I will just watch me, human.
"You want to kill me?" I ask him, arching a brow. All he has to do is say "Yes." But "yes" is a powerful word, a dangerous one. And once it is uttered, it cannot be taken back.
