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Cruel Twists of Fate
2012

As the blade bit into the flesh of her neck, the girl was struck by a wave of pain. It turned her vision white and threatened to steal her consciousness. She wouldn't let it. She couldn't let it. Twisting ever so slightly in the boy's arms, she found herself staring into his face.

The boy stopped, his knife hovering millimeters from a major artery. For a moment in time, he was frozen. He held his breath as he stared into those deep blue pools. She wasn't the first person he'd mugged, although she was the first he'd decided to kill. He'd enjoyed the looks of fear and anger in the faces of those he robbed. It made him feel powerful, the way he was made to feel. Now, in the wake of those eyes, he felt powerless.

There was no terror or fury swimming in those aqua orbs, but something else entirely. They were other emotions, most he'd never seen before. There was pity for a soul so lost that it had to resort to murder and robbery to survive; there was disappointment, as if he alone had shattered her innocence and thrown her into the dark abyss of evil dwelling in the post-pulse society; then, there was the most painful emotion of them all, forgiveness. Even though she knew she was standing at the brink of death, she was willing to forgive him.

The boy dropped the knife with a clatter onto the pavement. He swallowed hard, bringing his arms from their strangle hold to a place around her waist. With a gentility he did not know he possessed, he lowered her to the ground. The blood was beginning to flow more quickly from the cut he'd made before she'd stopped him with nothing but a glance. His hands shaking uncontrollably, he pulled his shirt off and pressed it against the now spurting blood. The girl brought one pale hand up to hold it in place, her gaze still fixed upon him questioningly.

He could feel something welling up in his eyes. Tears. Had he ever cried before? Most likely not. His hand lingered on her own for a moment before he bent down even further. Carefully, he placed his lips next to her ear. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I'm sorry."

A breeze funneled through the alley, blowing his medium length black hair away from his shoulders. The last thing the girl saw before losing consciousness was a bar code tatooed plainly on the nape of his neck.


X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4*X4

He tried to run, to flee. But, a few blocks from the scene, he was forced to stop. What had he done? He should have just finished the job. At least then her death would have been quick. Now, she was going to die slowly from blood less...unless someone found her. His gaze shifted to a telephone booth a few feet from where he was now standing.

Should he? He had been trained not to care. He'd been trained to kill without remorse. But, even genetically engineered human beings had souls. Perhaps it had just taken him longer to find his own. Resolutely, he crossed the short distance to the phone, deposited his last quarter, and placed the call.

"Seattle PD."

"I found a girl. She's been hurt pretty bad. She's behind the U of W chem lab. I think she was mugged. You might want to hurry. She won't last much longer."

"Is she conscious?"

"I...I don't know. She wasn't when I left..."

"You need to go back to her, Sir. Keep an eye on her until the police arrive."

"I...I can't do that."

"It might be a matter of life and death." A pause. "I've dispatched an ambulance. They should be there soon."

The boy replaced the receiver into its cradle and stared at it in confusion. Go back? He was supposed to go back? How could he? They'd catch him. They'd realize *he* inflicted those wounds. He just couldn't do it. Not even for her. Still...those eyes remained etched on his soul, haunting him.

He finally decided to double back and watch from a distance. As long as she was all right, that was all that mattered.


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