Disclaimer: I do not own Venom
A/N: So, I initially planned for this chapter to be longer, but seeing it as I'm already at about 6 600 words, making this story over 100 000 words long, I thought it would be good to pause it where it is now. More coming shortly.
Additional art will be posted on my DeviantArt account X-KuroShiro-X
Enjoy!
Chapter 22: Sealed Fate
Dora tried to keep it inside, the fear she felt bulging up inside like a black hole draining her of any energy she might have stored in that frail body of hers. Her body was shivering in the presence of Drake, her will to say something was quickly declining from its initial height, and she swore she was reeking with sweat as well. Her composed demeanor, as successful as it might have been, it could not fool herself into believing that she was anything but utterly terrified.
When Drake first had them both separated from the rest, she had expected him to pull out a gun from his coat and shoot her on the spot. It would not have mattered if he had done it in front of the others or not, but fewer witnesses could make up for a more convenient spot for disposal.
However, over the course of the time they had been standing there by the containment cells, separated from the rest of the world only by transparent walls, he had not said a word. Dora had been standing there, mere feet away from him, expecting him to do the finishing move each moment that passed them by.
Yet Drake had remained quiet. His stature, while intimidating and cold by nature, did not move an inch towards her. His eyes, fixated on her with barely any blinking, seemed like they were piercing through the core of her soul, searching for the answers she had refused to admit verbally. In his black suit and height, he stood like the Grim Reaper in front of her; unpredictable, yet fatal to the touch.
Then finally, he spoke up. "Did you do it?"
Dora almost instantly snapped her head up to look directly at him, something she had been fearful of doing during the last minutes she had spent alone with him. The tone of his voice was so … evenly distributed between calm and neutral that it almost shook her entirely. How could he be so tranquil when he had just been faced with betrayal?
"I …. I could not go through with it anymore," she answered while barely breathing, afraid that saying the wrong things might ignite a fuze within him that was just waiting to be lit. "I'm sorry,"
"I don't understand." He sounded so disappointed in her, almost like a parent chastising their child for doing something they were not supposed to. Hearing that from a man who had more than a few weapons at his disposal, however, was much more severe than the comparison she had used to describe the sensation.
He continued, slowly pacing back and forth as he spoke, threading soundlessly over the floor tiles. "We were so close to success, yet you decided to turn your back on your cause and potentially destroy everything we sought to create." His words were heavy, filled with resentment, yet ever-so-calm. "I thought you wanted to save people, Dora. I thought you believed in us."
"I– I did!" she suddenly cried out, unable to contain herself any longer. Her breath got caught in her throat. "I wanted us to save people, to make a better world. I just didn't want us to harm people in the process, no matter how 'unimportant' they were."
Her response seemed to anger him, and she could hear his voice growing increasingly tighter the next time he spoke. "Is that what you were thinking of me?" Drake asked accusingly, placing a hand over his chest as he stopped walking. The abrupt change in his movements echoed through the stillness. "That I viewed them as unimportant people just because they were homeless tramps?"
"N – No, I didn't–"
"I gave those people, who had nothing, something to believe in." He gritted his teeth. "I gave them a purpose when they previously had none. They were important before they even came here; I just made sure that it would be remembered by everyone else. How could you think so evil about me?"
By this point, Dora felt like she was on the verge of shedding the tears that had been gathering in the corners of her eyes. The way Drake so vehemently expressed his disappointment in her was just …. Overwhelming. It wasn't supposed to be, considering how they had killed dozens of innocent people for his own agenda, and yet she could not help but feel …. Regret.
But she contained herself just in time for him to turn his back around, hands placed on each hip as he seemed to be contemplating something. "But I need you to tell me something, Dora. Was Dr. March involved in this?"
Upon hearing this, Dora felt herself forgetting to breathe, not knowing what to do or how to answer without making it conspicuous what it was she was trying to do.
Would ratting her colleague out …. Secure her own safety? Would it make sure that Dora could go home again in one piece and embrace her boy without fearing for his or her own life? Would it make her able to continue working, or would it not change a thing.
As far as the ecologist knew, Evelyn March was a lonesome individual in the city, neither in a relationship with another part or in any meaningful relationship with anyone else for that matter. She was alone and generally unlikeable. Her family was not close as far as she could tell, nor would her absence be missed by anyone she knew of.
Why would Dora risk her own life and a future with her son for the sake of such a despicable human being as her? Someone who neither valued her own life nor that of others? Someone who was simply there, but could easily be replaced?
Someone who behaved so unbearably much like Drake himself.
Perhaps someone like her deserved to die?
A person who was incapable of feeling love, of loving someone else.
"She–" As she was about to answer, Dora stopped before another word could escape her.
"Surely you love – or have loved – someone in your life."
"Once."
Perhaps … that 'once' was enough? Maybe she did not need – nor deserve – to die?
Acknowledging that she had almost just snitched on someone else for her own benefit, Dora wanted to gag and she could feel her stomach churning inside her. It was a despicable act, coming from her, to behave like such a coward.
In what world did she have the right to evaluate someone else and condemn them?
She may have contributed to the death of many, but she was not a killer in that sense.
She did not have the liberty of doing that.
Besides, even if she did expose her involvement to Drake, then it would not just automatically guarantee her own safety. At worst, it might cause them both to end up on the wrong side of the gun, and that would most definitely guarantee that they would fail in stopping Drake.
"She did not know of it," she found herself saying, clenching her hand beneath the fabric of her sleeve she spoke. Dora took a deep breath. "Dr. March came to me last night and asked me for my help. As she had not yet acquired a pass-card to access the lab, she asked me for help to get inside and finish her work. I …." She paused. "I took the opportunity and got the infiltrator inside without warranting her attention; I snuck him inside the car before I picked her up, then got him inside the labs while her back was turned."
She prayed to whatever God existed up in the heavens above that he could not see through her lie. In hindsight, the only thing she lied about was the oncologist's personal involvement in the matter, but that alone could sound conspicuous if she allowed just a smidge of truth – only the truth – to make it through her words.
Afterward, there was silence again. Drake did not move, nor did he turn around to face her. Likewise, Dora could not muster the courage to request anything from him. But why was he not saying anything, or trying to make out whether she was talking honestly or otherwise? Why was he … so quiet about everything?
Yet as she opened her mouth, another voice claimed the opportunity to speak.
"Mr. Drake, Dr. Skirth,"
"Earth to Dan, are you okay?"
The surgeon snapped his head towards Frank upon hearing him address him, but he could not muster a smile to come forth. Through a sigh, he lifted his chin up from his folded hands and leaned back into his seat, facing the ceiling from where he sat by the table.
"Just thinking," he mumbled.
Frank raised an eyebrow. "I can practically see smoke coming from your ears, buddy. Wanna elaborate on what it is that you are thinking so carefully about?"
Lifting his head forward again, Dan eyed his colleague with a skeptical yet inquisitive look. "Be frank–"
"Already am,"
He rolled his eyes but could not keep a chuckle from escaping him. "Be honest, Frank, do you find me … unbearably annoying?"
His colleague took a sip from his cup of coffee before he raised the cup in the general direction of Dan. "All the time,"
Again, Dan rolled his eye at this response. "Seriously, Frank, be real."
Realization seemed to wash over his colleague and Frank let out a sigh. "Ah, I see what it is."
"What?"
"You got an earful from March, didn't 'cha?"
Almost instantly, Dan covered his face with his right hand. "That obvious?"
"Whenever there's a matter of outright criticism of one's character, always trust that it's March who's somehow involved in it." He tilted his head a little up, pondering. "But what happened?"
"She… She's up to something, but when I asked her about it, she became uncharacteristically upset. Angry, in a sense,"
"Strange, who would've thought that a machine could feel?"
"Seriously, Frank?"
"Look, Dan," Frank sounded …. Surprisingly genuine the way he spoke those two words, prompting Dan to look at him and take his words seriously now. Frank let out an exasperated sigh and soundlessly placed the coffee-cup down on top of the table they shared, staring straight into his eyes whilst placing his chin on top of his palm. "I'll give you a piece of advice, and it's up to you whether you want to heed it or not?"
Dan tilted his head slightly to the side. "What is it?"
"You gotta accept that you can't save them all, no matter how much you try," the other surgeon stated firmly, but considerately. It was almost strange to hear such genuine words come out of the mouth of someone who spent the majority of his vocabulary on puns and other inconsequential things. "Whatever it is dear ol' Evie's gotten herself into now, leave her be to deal with it herself. It's not your problem, and don't make it such either."
Dan widened his eyes a couple of inches, not believing what he had just heard. "What do you mean? I can't just–"
"Yes, you can," Frank quickly interrupted him, this time meeting his gaze with a rather sharp look which sent Dan into a state of paralysis. "If she wants to die, then let her die. If she wants to live, then she'll live on her own accord. Don't just presume that her hardships are for you to carry, and judging on her telling you off, I'm guessing she feels the same way."
While he wanted to protest against his colleague's blunt statement, Dan suddenly found himself empty of anything to say, like his words had been stolen from him by some unseen force within him.
He had always been empathetic towards others, regardless of who they were or what they looked like. It was the primary reason why he became a doctor; to help people. To see a child embrace their mother after a successful operation, or to deliver the news of someone's passing to their relatives; it was a bittersweet feeling, but he still contributed somehow.
However, that willingness to help others never ceased, even towards people who never asked for it. He had always assumed that everybody would want help, even if they denied it. That there would always be those who were unable to express their need for care, to be cared for.
Even Evelyn had once been more expressive about her needs, back at University. Whether she was hungry or just wanted a glass of water, she would say so if she was ever being asked about such. It was not until sometime later that he noticed that she had changed, become more solemn than she initially was.
Now, he was no longer so certain whether what he believed was true anymore.
Maybe Frank was right, and that this was a situation he had to lay off of. He just had to continue with treating Eddie and his other patients, and give Evelyn some space for the time being. Perhaps things would become better, and things would turn back to normal.
But as much as he wanted to believe it, something in Dan's gut told him that something was not right about any of this. He could not simply …. He could not ….
Without a word, he got up to his feet, but not before offering his curious colleague a warm smile. "Thanks for the talk, Frank, I needed it. Excuse me, I have to look at some IRM-scans."
"Right," Frank responded slowly, nodding. "That old journalist was here the other day, right? Eddie Brock? Quite an incident at the restaurant."
"That's the guy," Dan affirmed. "Poor guy's been sick, so I'll check the problem for him."
"Just watch out so he does not go and steal your girl," the other surgeon teased with a smirk. "You know how exes tend to be,"
Yet again, Dan only rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. "Thanks, Frank, but I'm not concerned about that. I trust Annie,"
And without another word, he waved his colleague a brief good-bye and headed towards the IRM-labs, unaware of the fact that his guts were onto something and unaware of the current whereabouts of the oncologist whose well-being he so altruistically cared for.
Even if he felt his chest tug ever-so-slightly at the words she had thrown at him.
"Mr. Drake, Dr. Skirth,"
She announced her presence without putting much effort into it, and that was enough to summon the attention of both of the people whose names she had just mentioned. Evelyn, however heavy her eyes were, never shifted her attention away from the containment area around her, scanning everything within the perimeter; from the equipment that was scattered around to the way the CEO was practically towering over the ecologist from within the containment.
The place was empty of anyone else as far as she could tell, yet she did not doubt that there would be someone else listening. The LF did not lack in quantity what was considered necessary, and alibies and accomplices were not excluded from that rule. Despite the deafening quiet and the overall silent atmosphere that accommodated the space. Eyes and ears were found around every corner and in every nook (not in a literal sense).
But what caught her attention out of everything was the container that was present in the room, inhibiting the blue symbiote she had seen first-hand annihilate countless people in the blink of an eye. SYM-A02 was located behind the glass, moving unpredictably yet restricted within the space of its captivity.
If it was there, no longer inside a host, then it most plausibly meant that Mr. Markson had been deemed deceased after further bonding between the two organisms was proven to be a failure. Her hand unknowingly clenched to a fist as she processed what this meant, and she could not quite conclude the reason for this behavior.
After lingering on the blue organism for a couple of seconds, her eyes trailed back to the two individuals in front of her. Much to her (relief? assurance?), Dr. Skirth appeared to be uninjured and otherwise in a stable condition, albeit there were considerably signs of stress on her countenance which the oncologist did not allow to escape her notice. If her analysis was proven correct, then Dr. Skirth was in a state of (fear?). Without verbal affirmation, however, Evelyn could not conclude that hypothesis for certain.
Meanwhile, the exact opposite could be said for the CEO, whose towering figure dressed in black could easily intimidate even the likes of Treece. His facial features were restricted, as were his movements, although they excelled in appearing composed. From the perspective of someone less intuitive than herself, he would have seemed like just another man with a tranquil approach in life.
But she knew better than to allow herself to be deceived by his demeanor.
Taking a step back from the ecologist, Drake lowered his shoulders with a sigh and shifted his attention to the approaching physician, evidently pleased by her presence. "Dr. March, I appreciate having you here on such short notice. I apologize for the inconvenience by request."
"An apology is highly unnecessary, sir," Evelyn assured him dismissively, narrowing her eyes as she eventually reached them both, arms crossed over her chest. "Though I am inquisitive about why my presence was requested."
"I will explain." Drake inclined his head towards her before it dipped to Dr. Skirth. "Dr. March, were you aware of the fact that it was Dora here who assisted the infiltrator inside the building last night?"
No one spoke for what seemed like hours. Evelyn remained calm despite all the thoughts that were entering her head. Her eyes flickered over to the ecologist, sharpening upon addressing the state of affirmation that was present in the ecologist's. Dr. Skirth, upon meeting her gaze, could only shift her focus to the floor, not saying a word even though her lips were visibly quivering.
How did she allow herself to get caught?
"What evidence do you possess of this?" she inquired.
"She admitted it," Drake spoke casually, masking any resentment he might have harbored towards any of them.
"She did?" Evelyn shifted her gaze back to the ecologist, voice evenly distributed between calm and composed without indicating that she had any prior knowledge of this incident. Doing so could most likely result in her disposal, so it would be most inconvenient if that was to occur. "How would that be possible if I was present with her?"
"I… I took advantage of you." Dr. Skirth barely managed to make her voice audible enough. "W-When you asked for my help to get inside the lab, I got the infiltrator inside the back seat before you entered. When we got to the labs, I snuck him in while you turned your back for a second."
The explanation was … almost ridiculously foolish. Evelyn could scarcely imagine that it had somehow managed to fool Drake, whose perception was supposedly sharper than anyone she knew of. If she was required to feign obliviousness in order for this to work, then she would have to do so without seeming too conspicuous in the process.
"Why did you do it?" Her voice came out as sharper than she had anticipated, but it served its purpose, for Dr. Skirth visibly flinched upon hearing it. Her lips continued to shiver.
"I – I'm s-sorry, wha–"
But before she was even allowed to finish, Evelyn stepped forward and quickly grasped around the ecologist's shirt, lifting her up by a few inches so that the woman was forced to stand on her toes for a few seconds. Evelyn was somewhat amazed by how well she could handle the other woman's weight even though she had never excelled in anything resembling physical prowess, but she did not question it in the spur of the moment.
"We were on the verge of achieving our objective," she stated firmly, her green eyes stared straight into the blue ones of her colleague, who appeared to be more than (shocked? surprised? caught off-guard?) by this change of events. Whether it was feigned or genuine, regardless, it was effective. "Your actions may have contributed to the death of mankind, so feel inclined to answer. What was the purpose of your actions?"
Dr. Skirth's consequences were left ambiguous and uncertain. Now that Drake was aware of her treason, then he would most certainly dispose of her in one way or the other unless she somehow managed to interfere. While Evelyn's own fate was still in the waiting, as the ecologist had not mentioned her involvement in this, that alone could not guarantee her safety.
Why did Dr. Skirth not tell Drake of her involvement?
Evelyn scanned Dr. Skirth's face, trying to deduce a plausible answer from her. Reasons that she could find appropriate. Why did the ecologist not attempt to place all the fault on her instead, possibly saving herself? She had a son, a place to return to once this was all over. Why give all that up for the sake of someone who was as expendable as herself? Why sacrifice it all for her?
"Why?" Although she did not realize it at first, Evelyn could hardly hear her own voice as she pronounced those three letters, as her attention still remained with Dr. Skirth at the time. All that energy she spent trying to analyze a plausible explanation, she let the fact that the ecologist's facial expressions softened go unnoticed.
She suddenly felt a hand on top of her shoulder. "Dr. March, I understand your frustrations," Drake spoke softly. "But maybe Dora has something she wants to say. Please, let her go."
Evelyn glanced over her shoulder to meet his gaze, almost expecting him to wield some kind of weapon against her back unless she refused to cooperate. While it seemed at first like she had managed to convince him with her frivolous display of (anger?), she could not afford to simply let her guard down in front of him just yet.
However, she heeded his words and promptly let go of Dr. Skirth's shirt, lowering her back properly onto the floor almost soundlessly.
Dr. Skirth instantly took a step back from the two of them, readjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose and crossing her arms over her chest. Her limbs were trembling, but Evelyn could not help but admire how calm she appeared to be. She had never understood that someone like she was capable of performing such a convincing state of equanimity.
"I was troubled by … what we've been doing," Dr. Skirth explained quietly, averting her gaze ever-so-slightly to the floor. Evelyn could tell that her pupils were occasionally darting towards the organism that was contained only several feet away from them, and likewise, she could not keep her own attention from subtly flickering towards it.
Its presence was … ambiguous. Was it there to serve as a reminder of what kind of punishment Drake was capable of delivering, or was it simply there as a means to keep an eye on his precious subject? Regardless, neither outcome was a preferable one, though the latter was the safest option for certain.
But all she could do was to simply await Drake's response, whether it was an aggressive one or otherwise. She heard him gravely sigh, an indication that he was in a less than a (generous? docile?) state of mind.
"I get it,"
The oncologist narrowed her eyes following this response, shifting her head to face the CEO where he stood, almost not certain that she had properly processed his words. They were so … composed, like he was elaborating on a mundane matter which did not circle around treason. It was hard to fathom, but she did not make her suspicions vigorous enough to express.
Drake's expressions changed into those which indicated (understanding? comfort? solace?), as though all earlier signs of the opposite had completely disintegrated in a matter of seconds.
She shifted her attention back to Dr. Skirth, who was also visibly taken aback by this. Her eyes met those of her colleague for a split second, almost as though she was requesting affirmation of whether this reaction was genuine or not.
The answer was already an obvious one. After all, people were easy to read.
Drake's lips tugged into a weak smile. "I get it," he repeated, raising his hand. "We've all been troubled. It's the nature of what we do. But … I need you to tell me who was here with you, and what you were going to do with the information you downloaded. I need that from you."
"Downloaded information?" Evelyn inquired with a raised eyebrow. On cue, Drake pulled something out of his pocket and held it up. A hard-drive.
"It was … in case evidence was needed," Dr. Skirth admitted hesitantly, still unable to look up. "I …"
But without looking away from the ecologist, Drake handed the drive over to Evelyn and she took it, giving it one last glance before she put it in her coat. Whatever use she would have for it in the future, it had yet to be seen. Perhaps it could serve as evidence, but for now, it meant that Drake still trusted her enough to grant her such a vast amount of information without batting an eye. However, to think that her colleague was caught by doing something so conspicuous was beyond her.
Why did she have to get caught?
"But I can't tell you who was with me," Dr. Skirth said and shook her head. "I … Can't do that."
"Once again, you allowed your emotions to get in the way of rationality, Dr. Skirth," Evelyn stated firmly and sharpened her look at the ecologist. "It would seem that you are not too different from your sister after all,"
"And Janine was right when she called you an inhuman individual," Dr. Skirth suddenly spat with mutual contempt, raising her head to meet that of her colleague. Her eyes bore no disdain as far as the oncologist could tell, but they successfully managed to produce a feigned version of it. "You truly are a monster,"
"Enough." Drake's orders, albeit a single word consisting of six letters, was all that they required on in order to keep their cold 'argument' from escalating further. He took a step forward, standing between both of them with his focus solely placed on the ecologist, to which she reluctantly took a step back.
"We can't fix things unless we begin with your friend," he tried his best to sound convincingly civil. "The person who was here, because they're going to die. They're in grave danger."
Dr. Skirth's facial features began to soften, as though she was perceiving his words as true.
"You know that, right? They're going to die unless we bring them back here, where you can help to keep them alive."
He took a step closer towards her, evidently making her uncomfortable with his proximity. "Hey, Dora, I promise that from here on we will do things differently. Will you please trust me?"
Subtly, Dr. Skirth looked over the CEO's shoulder and met the oncologist's eyes, searching for an answer. Evelyn took a deep breath, noticing how the ecologist seemed as though she was actually considering taking Drake up on his words. Perhaps she was under the impression that he would spare her if they gave up Mr. Brock's name, that it would secure her safety?
But Evelyn slowly shook her head, assuming that the ecologist would heed her answer and not give in to the CEO's demand. They could not afford to give him what he was looking for, or they were most certainly finished. She could not plausibly trust that Drake would do something as trivial as to keep his 'promise'
But the ecologist let out a heavy sigh, lowering her shoulders before she opened her mouth to speak.
"Eddie Brock,"
For anatomical reasons she could not name, Evelyn could feel her heart skip a beat and her breath halt abruptly in her throat as she processed that name. The name of a person she had promised to find and ensure the safety of had just been exposed by the very person she gave that promise to. It was almost (ironic?).
Still, she did not utter a word and allowed her gaze to meet that of the floor. For reasons unexplained, she felt her fingers knot into a fist again beneath the fabric of her sleeve.
"Eddie Brock?" Drake questioned, to which Dr. Skirth hesitantly affirmed with a nod. This caused the CEO to go deep into thought, a mixture of (disbelief?) and (realization?) dawning over him.
He did not say a word. Neither of them did. It was the silence that was the most unnerving part of it all.
Then, Drake shifted around and turned to Evelyn, whose face was as void as it had always been. He dipped his head towards her and indicated for her to follow him out of the transparent door, which she obliged to after casting a quick look at Dr. Skirth.
The ecologist moved her lips, but no sound came out.
'I'm sorry,'
He stepped towards her and placed a firm hand on top of her shoulder, starring straight into her eyes, which she reciprocated to a lesser extent.
"Dr. March, I am promoting your position," he explained with a tug of his lips. "From now on, you are fully in charge of supervising the project's progression on our subjects and report them directly to me. Any method you deem as suitable is yours to see through, and the others will follow without objection."
He then reached for her hand, grasping it in his. The temperature was considerably low, as though he had been keeping it in the freezer for a considerable amount of time prior to touching her. An object was then placed in her grip, which Evelyn almost instantly pulled back to inspect.
It was an identification card, almost entirely identic to that of Dr. Skirth.
LIFE FOUNDATION PERSONNEL PASS
DR. EVELYN MARCH
Attending Physician and Head Supervisor
As she held the insignificant piece of plastic in her grip, words could not describe how mediocre the sensation was.
Despite it, she gave a firm nod his way. "The gesture is appreciated."
"Good, though we have to make the finishing touches later on with pictures and everything,"
"Understood,"
Drake then let go of her, turned his head around, and faced Dr. Skirth one last time. "Just know, Dora, that you were our best.
Open it,"
The blue sludge that was once one of her test-subjects was promptly released from its containment, descending down to the floor like a mass whilst moving unpredictably. It was the very same thing that had forced countless of people to die in front of her, dying of asphyxiation or having their organs tarnished and consumed from their insides.
Whatever that thing was, it was a murderous entity that showed no humanity and knew no boundaries. While those two traits did not linger too far from one another, that thing was most certainly not anything she thought resembled a human.
And yet it did.
The ecologist let out a shriek as she watched the thing gradually crawl towards her, shortening the distance between them bit by bit at an exhilarating rate. In a vast attempt to back away from the organism, Dora backed herself up against the wall behind her, desperately searching for a way out of there with her heart racing a mile per minute.
But there was no route to escape through.
She snapped her eyes up, only to see Drake haphazardly leave without casting as much as a last glance her way. His display of utter indifference at the prospect of her death – one of his closest subordinates and most trusted colleagues – sparked something within her. It was neither sadness nor shock. She could feel her knuckles turn white and her teeth gritting against each other as she watched him leave her. It was expected, but no less infuriating.
She loathed him.
She had been so stupid to believe that he could change from what he had become; the monster she had seen him morph into over the course of time he had spent around those symbiotes, fantasizing about his utopia.
Luke.
Dora's dart then proceeded to fall upon the oncologist, who remained standing where she stood, eyes wide with what she could only describe as … as ….
Shock – disbelief – regret.
Then, much to her surprise, Evelyn's eyes sharpened and she stepped towards the glass, raised her fists, and started to bang on it to the point where the vibrations echoed through the space she was enclosed in. The oncologist continued to throw her fist into the transparent wall until marks were left on the walls, and evident drops of blood started to form on her knuckles. She even tried to use her pass-card to gain entrance to the cell, but there was no access to be granted.
There was an uncharacteristic trait of determination over her face, the kind Dora had never expected to see from someone like her. No, from her specifically. The physician with no heart was suddenly trying to break her out, despite the fact that the chances of her succeeding in it were slim to none. It was an act only an impulsive person would be able to fulfill, yet this was an act not performed by an impulsive person.
The irony was dreadful.
That's how the ecologist understood what she had to do, even if she was going to die at the hands of that organism. She was not finished; not yet.
The moment the blue symbiote was about to reach over to her feet, Dora did a leap of faith and quickly jumped over to the side, successfully dodging the attack just enough for her to manage to sprint over to the other side of the room, right in front of the wall separating her from the oncologist.
"Evelyn, you have to –"
But the person on the other side shook her head almost at once, pointing at her right ear as to indicate that there was no way for her to hear the other woman's voice through the glass.
Without wasting a moment, Dora hurriedly breathed heavily onto the surface of the wall, which caused the transparency to become covered with dew thick enough to convey a message. Then, she drew her finger over it, mirrored so that the oncologist could see clearly.
HELP EDDIE
The oncologist's green eyes scanned over the message, then they returned back to her, almost becoming … sad. If someone as stone-hearted as the very same oncologist was able to feel sadness, then maybe the world was not such a hopeless place after all.
If there was even an ounce of understanding within the core of her, Dora knew what this meant. She would die, and that was a fate she was content with. But death was still a minute away, and she planned on spending those sixty seconds productively. If it meant saving the world her son would grow up in, then she would be content beyond comprehension.
Breathing onto the glass again, she wrote another message.
PROMISE ME
After reading this, Evelyn did not move on the other side. She remained frozen where she stood, but then she glanced back up at her and nodded a firm nod.
Dora smiled.
She wrote something else.
I'M SORRY
TELL MY SON I –
But her hand suddenly began to feel … numb. Cold. Unmoveable. It was as though the life in it had drained completely, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk. Her arm was not the only part of her body that felt like that, and it took her a couple of moments before what little remained of her thoughts managed to process the reason why.
Something entered her body, leaving behind the identical coldness throughout every fiber of her being. Dora wanted to write something else, but there was no strength left for her to exploit. Her breaths began to decline, as she felt something grasp around her lungs, forcing the oxygen out of her body. The pain was there, unbearably so. Her fingers clutched against the fabric of her shirt, her nails tearing through the fabric in an effort to get to the skin and claw the monster out.
But it could not compare to the fear she felt over the fate of her son.
Dora Skirth was standing there, seconds away from death with an alien parasite inside her, yet all she could think of was how sad Luke would become. Growing up in a world without his father was one thing, but now his mother as well.
He would be left all alone.
Tears descended from her eyes and down to her cheeks, and she could feel her weight crash down to the floor as the creature inside of her slowly began to tarnish her insides.
I'm sorry
To see him grow up was not an option anymore.
She could recall his first steps, his first words, the first time he corrected her on something, the number of times he had called her out for her addictive smoking habit.
I'm sorry
She had killed people, watched them get tortured before succumbing to the fate of death. This seemed like a fitting conclusion for her life, but she dared not believe he would experience anything remotely similar. The world would be his to live on as he pleased. He could become a doctor, a scientist, a professor, anything he wanted. She just wanted him to be happy.
I'm sorry
But this was her price to pay for her sins. The chance to watch him grow up was gone, and her life was on the edge, but that was her retribution. She had killed so many, this was appropriate.
A cloth suddenly formed itself in her throat, causing her to gag as the serpent-like creature blocked her breathing entirely. The world slowly succumbed to darkness, an empty abyss where nothing was certain.
I'm sorry
She could only pray that …. Her mistakes would be cleared up.
The world would remain.
Her son would live.
Drake would fail.
As long as that happened, she could suffer.
She could suffer for a thousand years.
I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY
LUKE I'M SO SORRY