Dr. Magnus swallowed. The feeling of the cold blade over his delicate throat was nothing compared to the glint in the young girl's eyes. Yes, he had seen those eyes before – every time he paused in front of the mantle where the spotted mirror reflected his own aging face. They were his eyes. Unmistakable. Hers were clearer with flecks of someone else but still -
"I don't-" he went to speak, but John pressed the blade more firmly to the doctor's skin.
"It doesn't matter how," John said, bony fingers pulling one of the doctor's arms behind his back so that he could not struggle. Ashley's father made sure that his body was shielded by the old man, should Ashley take a shot. "I know that you don't believe me, Dr. Magnus, but this is all for the best. Now Ashley, please come over here and we can be on our way."
"Not until you tell me why they're doing this." She meant the research. According to John, her mother and grandfather did more than nurture an interest in abnormals – they sought them out, hunted them down if necessary, all for this small vial of blood.
"He does it," John meant her grandfather, "because he loves your mother and wants her to have a normal life. He doesn't see her like I do – recognise what she is. It would be a crime to rip away a gift like hers. A billion average lives so that just one random mutation could deliver her to the world. I – on the other hand, am not so fortunate. My body is breaking down, unable to cope with its 'gifts'. Something went wrong, long ago. She helps me when she can but for others like myself, what we require is a genetic stabiliser. That's a rare thing, Ashley. So rare that throughout your mother's extensive life she has only come across one creature that possesses this trait and it's right there..." he lowered his eyes to where she had concealed the vials of blood.
Ashley turned her body, sharpening her aim.
"So you see, doctor, although it's a noble set up that you have here, for these samples to be of any use, they have to take a little trip through time. I promise that we're not really stealing them, after all, from one Magnus lab to another... Take the book as well Ashley, it was, after all, a gift from your grandfather."
Ashley let a tear roll down the side of her cheek, not game to loosen the grip on her weapon to wipe it away. "What creature," she hissed.
"John, whatever you, Helen and the others did– it doesn't matter anymore." Doctor Magnus knew that his daughter was not like himself. She was never satisfied by the answers he gave her or the natural progression of the scientific community. He also knew that she had not been at a lecture this afternoon – nor any Thursday afternoon. She was with them – with John.
"It matters to me!" John roared. "It's killing me and Helen knows it! She said that she would help me – that she would search forever."
"I hate you," Ashley interrupted her arguing relations. "But I don't want to shoot you," she said to her father. "I want to know everything, your side. Please, leave my grandfather alone. I will come with you if you just let him go."
John eyed her with such ferocity that her skin went cold. "All right," he rolled the words, lifting the knife from the doctor's throat. "Give me your hand."
Ashley lowered her weapon, not quite to the floor as John's blade hovered at a safer distance. With the journal in her free hand, she inched closer, stepping around the desk where the lamp continued to fill the attic with soft light.
"See," whispered John. "All friends here."
He had almost released the doctor completely when Ashley reached his hand. Fingers brushing over each other – the door at the bottom of the stairs slammed open with a crash that shook the room.
Ashley's finger, still resting on the trigger of the heavy gun, jerked.
She felt the 'click' before it was drowned under the blast of the gun which jolted her arm upwards. Everything paused – the haze of smoke from the barrel, her father's mouth locked open in shock and the breath in her grandfather's lungs. Ashley blinked, her lashes falling over her red eyes releasing another sticky tear.
The world was black. Forever rolled past and she was sure that the universe had forgotten her, leaving her in the dark where she belonged. Her head split with pain as if part of her was breaking off. She screamed, dropping the gun as the darkness flashed to white.
Helen Magnus, half dressed in her pale blue cotton dressing gown, slammed the door open and took the steps to the attic three at a time. Her bare feet were cut by the nails and splintered wood, leaving smears over the steps. She didn't notice as she neared the glow at the top. Hushed voices mingled with the dusty air, one of them belonging to her father.
It was past two in the morning when she had heard the footsteps creep past her door. Helen lay awake after that, listening to the sounds of the house, thinking that she had imagined it. Then – then she had heard her father's bedroom door creak open and him shuffle out.
The noises persisted. She was certain that she could hear papers shuffling somewhere above her head and floorboards groaning.
Fearing the worst – an academic thief after her father's research, Helen slipped out of bed and followed the voices down the hall.
Now, rushing up the steps, she felt the crack of the bullet rip through her. The noise echoed off the small space. Her thoughts became a world of their own, deafening her. Pressing against the wall with one hand she screamed, "Father!"
Before she could reach the final step and see around the corner into the attic itself, the room flashed a bluish white. Shielding her eyes, she stumbled into the brightness. Helen thought she saw two figures evaporate. They were gone a moment later, taking the light with them.
The lanterns were little better than candles afterwards. It was under their soft glow that she saw her father, his back to her, standing in front of one of the desks. Helen stopped at the top of the stair, her breath coming in laboured heaves.
"Father?" she repeated softly. The gush of air that had accompanied the flash had set the papers into the air. They continued to flutter down around her father.
Doctor Magnus's legs crumbled beneath him. He lunged for the desk but his body had no strength. It was as if it didn't belong to him anymore. The world had reclaimed it and all that was left to do was shut his eyes as the floor approached.
Helen threw herself forward catching her father just as he hit the floor. She cradled his head in her arms, calling his name over and over even that she had known that he was dead from the moment the gun was fired.
That was when she saw it – the sleekly shaped metal lying unwanted on the floor beside the desk. Placing her father gently onto the floor, Helen Magnus crawled forward toward the gun...
"Helen?"
It was scorching hot at the edge of the barrel so she slid her fingers down toward the butt. Wrapping them firmly around its base, she lifted the item from the ground, feeling its weight in her hands. There was something alluring about it.
"Come on Magnus – Henry – stun it again!"
With one hand over her chest to stop her heart breaking through, Helen rose to her feet. Her eyes skimmed over the room as if it were a dream, the edges blurred through her tears. She would find who did this. Helen felt strength welling up inside of her. Her eyes flicked to the lantern swaying in front of her. The flame wavered as she reached out her hand to it -
"She's coming round, get that damn thing off of her!"
Henry stabbed madly at the air around Mangus's legs. Finally, he felt a jolt as the stunning stick founds the sand creature. It flickered into vision, screaming and clawing in pain as Henry slammed the cage door shut and Will pulled Helen free.
Helen mumbled something as she came to. Will, exhausted, was seated on the ground with the top half of Helen in his lap. Henry stumbled over to them, panting as he swung the stunning stick over his shoulder and rested it there.
"Close," Henry breathed, as the sand creature continued to growl in its cell.
"What happened?" muttered Helen, her eyes finally open. Will's hand was over her neck where a nasty scratch mark continued to bleed.
"You had a run in with the sand creature," he replied. "Close one too."
They helped her to her feet and began stumbling toward the lift. Helen had to be propped up on both sides, her arms around their shoulders in order to walk.
"Nearly killed ourselves getting you out of that damn cage," said Henry. "Seriously, you should consider giving us a pay rise for life endangerment."
"Don't be so dramatic, Henry," replied Helen, with just enough strength left to chide them for taking their time to rescue her.
The sand creature shook off the stun, folding in all of its limbs as residual shudders rolled over its body. It narrowed its eyes at a camera just outside the cell bars. People were watching it, it knew that – but were they listening?
*~*~*
Ashley curled herself into a tight ball, rolling onto her side where she spent a few minutes just breathing. She was back in her house – left in one of the many corridors. Eventually she let out a sob, burying her face in her hands. She had killed her grandfather.
