Version 2: Loss

[This is the 2nd version of my short story Loss. It a short story that the reader can choose how they want it to end.]

She pulled the knife from her chest and smiled. “Was that supposed to hurt?” Her blood dripped off the blade and oozed out of her chest turning her gray sweater dark red. Soran’s face became pale and gripped the black slick case tighter in his hand.

“How— I— I killed you!” He stumbled to his feet and backed away slowly. He pressed the case against his chest. Alaya slowly rose to her feet, “So you did,” she smiled coldly while flipping the blade in her hand, “but it didn’t stick.”

With that she charged toward Soran swinging the knife wildly. He ducked and rolled under her arm just as she drove the knife into the forest floor.

“Please,” Soran pleaded, his eyes wide with fear and pain. “Please don’t do th-!” Alaya screamed swinging her fist around knocking Soran off his feet.

“I’ll have your head!” She screamed and lunged towards him again. Soran scrambled back narrowly dodging the blade and dove into the bushes.

“Soran!” Alaya said whilst spitting out blood with every word. “I know you have it!” Soran held his breath. Great. She knew. But how? How could she have known?

“You took it — the antidote —- to fix us! To fix me!” Gasping for air, she slowly scanned the bushes and downed branches for any movement. “I saw you take it from the lab. I watched as you scavenged like a mutt looking for that blue miracle.”

Soran watched her inch closer to where he was crouching. He has to act fast. And do what? He had to try saving her wether she wants to be or not. His next plan would have to work this time.

“—And you think that vial is going to do anything? You think it’s going to fix me?”

Soran scrambled to unzip the case, the blue syringe was still intact, thank goodness.

“—Well, good luck trying ‘cause it only works on patients who were recently exposed.”

An idea popped into his head. A crazy, risky idea.

“It would never work on me!” boasted Alaya, “it’s your funeral."

Soran whispered, “we’ll see about that.” Soran felt her presence standing beside him and held his breath. Alaya scanned the forest. She breathed heavily, the bullet holes and stab wounds were deep and her blood bounced off the leaves like rain.

Alaya’s blood boiled with rage, Soran felt her heat emanating through the brush. She fidgeted with the knife in her hand. Soran closed his eyes and let his breath go. With the syringe in hand, he charged through the brush grabbing Alaya’s legs knocking her down. They scrambled to stay on top, fighting to have the upper hand.

“YOU IDIOT!”, she screamed. Alaya jabbed Soran with the knife but he caught her wrist twisting the blade away. Just as he was about to plunge the needle into her chest Alaya punched him in the throat. He choked dropping the needle. Alaya quickly grabbed the knife and stabbed him in the side. Soran cried and gasped for air, although every breath caused the gash to shoot pain through his torso. It didn’t help to have Alaya’s knee on his chest pinning him down. He heard her laugh to herself and overhear the fatal crunch of the syringe under her shoe.

“Oh my dear boy,” she sweetly said, “did someone break your needle? What a shame.”

“Please, please, don’t — please— this isn’t you”, he croaked. Alaya placed her finger over his mouth and whispered. “This is me. You just refuse to accept it. But no matter, I’m done with you.”

It was like slow motion seeing her flash a murderous smile and watch her eyes cloud with fury. Transfixed by her, she lifted the knife over her head drenched in his own blood. She would finish him. This time she would hit her mark. Seeing the blade in her bloody fist, he finally saw the vicious beast she had become. It broke him. She’s not herself, she’s a science experiment, a savage monster and killing machine. She’s barely human. Barely. It was now or never.

Engrossed in her triumph and about to plunge a knife into her enemy, Alaya’s body seized as an icy blast shot through her extremities. She screamed a blood curdling cry as she collapsed. Soran pushed her to the side and threw the knife into the bushes. Alaya desperately clawed at her leg and found an epi-pen thrusted into her thigh. She yanked the pen out and found the empty vial inside.

NOOOOOAARGGH!” she screamed. Quickly has he could, Soran rolled away from her and watched in horror as she violently convulsed, jerking and shaking with no control of her flailing limbs. Soran wished he could help her and make it stop but he was helpless. The antidote had to take its course. ‘I hope it’s enough,’ thinking to himself as he tightly clutched his side, unable to keep the searing pain at bay.

Alaya moaned and wailed in agony. She began foaming around the mouth and her skin turned pale. Her eyes kept rolling back inside her head and her muscles became so tense that her arms and hands crumpled close to her chest.

Soran gingerly crawled over to Alaya’s writhing body.

“What’s happening to me?” she cried. Soran placed his bloody hands at the sides of her head to steady her. She continued to wail in pain as the antidote coursed through her veins killing the sickness so violently. Sorean quickly wiped away the tears welling up in his eyes. His body felt exhausted and broken. He felt lightheaded, probably from losing too much blood. He concentrated on Alaya, ignoring his body screaming for sleep.

Alaya’s eyes rolled back into her head and gasped for air. The seizures slowed and her wounds ceased bleeding. Her hazy eyes normalized revealing an ocean blue. Looking up she saw upside-down Soran smiling so wide he looked like a child opening presents on Christmas Day.

“Soran?” she said puzzled, “Is— is that you?” Soran chuckled, “yes, yes, I’m here! I’m here, oh man you’re okay, you’re going to be okay! I can’t believe that worked—you’re back!” Soran leaned down to hug her. He continued to ramble on in joy, he has his best friend back. His true best friend. Alaya cracked a smile, she felt like she was living for the first time.

But the feeling quickly left when she noticed the gashes and cuts on his face, she reached for him with her bloody hands. “Did I do this?” she asks concerned.

Soran grimaced. “Yeah. You did.”

Alaya gulped, “I didn’t know, I thought— well I knew but I didn’t know,” she mumbled. “I didn’t mean to,” she pleaded, “I saw you as my enemy, like you were going to kill me. But the impulses— if I had known—“

“Shh,” Soran held her hands still. “I know. We were both trying to kill each other. Unsuccessfully though.” He chuckled softly and cracked another smile. Alaya smirked. “I guess I bested you again, didn’t I?” she jabbed. Soran chuckled and sighed with relief. “Thought you were going to say that.”

Despite the pain, cold, and dizziness, they smiled. For once they felt whole again, forgetting for an instant all the things that had come to past, all the hatred and betrayal of the Heal-X, the Resistance and hidden lies. Everything became clear, and for a moment, everything was right in the world.