A Deadly Mutation *Trigger Warning*

A Deadly Mutation

Everywhere sirens cried. Blinding blue and radiant red lights flashed atop the many parked cars. Coppers were running about and muttering orders across their radios. A mist of rain coated every surface with dark diamonds. Yellow tape barricaded the road and sidewalk. It all was not even a pebble to my mission. If it had not been for all the confusion and bustle, I would have surely been stopped. My heart pounded as I pushed the ribbon away.

What was I to do? The entire front entrance was blocked with cars and the watching eyes of every bobby in London. Blast! There had to be another way in. Back to the wall, I slipped into the alley. Set into one of the red brick walls, was a metal door, painted with years of indecipherable graffiti. The building was old and unused- it had to be unlocked. It needed to be unlocked and I was running out of time. It was only a matter of time before they would catch him.

I ran up to the door, making an effort to be sure that my heels didn't click and give away my position. I latched onto the cold, wet knob. It turned, but the door itself was stuck. I pulled, but it barely budged. The cry of another siren gave me the start I needed to pull the door lose from its frame. I fell back, hitting the pavement hard, but that didn't matter.

Without a second thought I bolted through. The vacant warehouse would have been completely dark, if not for the flashing lights casting horror film worthy shadows. I didn't need to think to run. Between the rows of unused tables I bolted and scanned for him. "John!" I called. I couldn't control the panic that shook my voice. "John, where are you?"

I came to a set of crumbling cement stairs. I began to climb them, clawing at the railing. My toe slipped on the edge of a step. I stumbled, breaking the heel of my shoe. I cried out and hissed only briefly. Then I started up again, kicking my shoes down to the floor below.

I finally reached the top of the stairs. Breathless, I continued to run, calling for him, praying that he was alright. I passed a desk and would have completely missed him, had it not been for the slight rotation of his head.

There, slumped against the desk was a lean man, his head bowed. "John!" I cried and fell to the floor beside him. I cradled his teary face in my hands. I began to cry myself; joyous, panicky tears, darting down my cheeks. "John, are you alright? Can you hear me? If you can understand me, speak to me John!" John lifted his head slightly and cracked open his eyes.

"Mary?" he moaned. "You've come back." His words were slurred as if he had got himself drunk.

"Yes, John. Yes, I'm here! I've come to get you out of here. We're going to leave this place behind!" Between tears I spat out these words. "Come on!" I grabbed his limp hand and rose to my feet, beckoning him to follow, but his hand fell to the floor again.

"No" he muttered, despair catching in his voice. I gripped his shoulders.

"Yes! We're going to go where no one can find us!" I tried to drag him to his feet again.

"No, Mary. They're coming to take me away. No matter what, they're going to find us. They'll take me away from you and-" He broke out into hysterical sobs, his whole body shaking. He pulled me down to him. "They'll lock me away!" he cried. "Mary! Don't let them do this!" Now he was clawing at me desperately. He wrapped his thin fingers around my collar and pulled me to him. We wrapped our arms around each other as he wept into my shoulder.

For the first time in my life I felt entirely helpless. I could barely speak, and I didn't know what to think. We just sat there, crying. Crying and crying like two frightened children. In the fear we both felt now, we were children. Frightened, sniveling children.

John loosened his grip on me and I let my hands fall to my lap. He groped beside him. I heard a clink of metal against the floor. Gently, in my hands he placed a gun ... the barrel was pointed at himself. I stared at him in horror and tried to throw it away, but he held on tight. "Do it" he whispered. His eyes never left mine as he said it, the tiniest, saddest smile curling his lips.

"What?" I didn't know what to say. It just fell from my mouth.

"Pull the trigger." Again, his eyes held constant. I couldn't believe what he was asking me to do.

"I- I c-can't." I tore myself from his watery gaze, trying to look anywhere, but his eyes.

"Please." He gazed at me, his eyes so pleading, so sincere. His voice cleared to the sane, normal voice I knew. "Mary, you don't know how hard it is for me. Make yourself safe and set me free." I shook my head, throat gurgling, trying to find words.

"I can't kill you!" I yelled, taken over by more sobs. Softly, he wrapped his hands around mine and pulled them to his chest. Still, he stared into my eyes, tears slowly tracing his gaunt cheeks.

"It's the kind thing to do" he whispered intensely. "All my life I've been more than one person, when all I want is to be the one you love." At this he wiped a tear from my cheek, his brows knit meaningfully. "I can't control when my other self will take over and when it happens, I don't want to hurt you."

I was lost again, the choice killing me inside. He suffered horribly. He never knew when he would be the kind self he wanted to be. It plagued him. It pained him day and night that he could kiss me one minute and without cause, want to kill me the next. I knew that he loved me as much as I loved him and we knew it. We knew that I couldn't bear to see him hurting just as we both knew that no matter how strong the love, his mind could turn at any moment. The choice was mine. I could either let him die, bound like a dog in some mental institution, or I could end his suffering right now.

Head spinning, hands shaking ... I nodded. John's body relaxed as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his chest. "Thank you" he whispered. I lifted my head shamefully. The one person I loved more than anything was going to die at my hands, but in return I would spare him crawling years of solitude and suffering.

John sat up straight. Holding my arms, he guided my quivering hands up. He leaned forward and closed his eyes and he shut my lids with his thumbs. Then he pressed his lips to mine. They were warm and gentle and for a moment I thought everything was going to be alright. Not daring to peep, I returned the kiss for the last time.

I pulled the trigger. I felt his weight kick away from me. I dropped the gun and covered my eyes, trying to shield myself from the sight of the horrible thing I'd done. I sat there crying and screaming at the top of my lungs.

When I finally did open my eyes, my tears blurred them so much that I could only make out the line of his body and the blood pouring from him, shining in the flashing lights.

Whenthe police finally came in they stared at me in confusion as I cradled his limpbody. My mad crying mixed with a sound of devastated laughter echoed off thewalls and there I thanked God that the one man I could ever love was free. Freeto be himself and wait for me.