Blue Fire (Edited)

Chapter 19: Death Should be Peaceful

"Where was I? Ah, the last journal... You know David and the woman were brought to this very same facility, and my brother, John Rutherford, became the head of it until his death due to cancer. I took over after that. The woman, though, happened to escape, or perhaps my brother let her go. No one is sure. He seemed to have a soft spot for his ex-partner. In any case, she didn't get too far; we were able to catch up with her a week later. Her child was missing, though, and she was on the verge of death. To her dying breath, she never gave up the whereabouts of the child. So, I have a theory. You see... All this happened about 27 or 28 years ago, and based on your driver's license you are....?"

"I'm 27," she answered, her mind swirling with questions.

"You're actually 28; your birthday was last month. So now I wonder if this is all a coincidence. You are a scientist; What do you think? Though note that the metal detectors at the front door scan every single person coming into the building to see if they are Atlantean or not. You were 100% normal; no alarms were triggered."

He paused in his thought process, eyeing her cautiously like she was a puzzle to be solved.

"It appears even I am stumped in some cases, but it never stops me from figuring things out. So I'm offering you a partnership. Help me find the answers I seek, and I will give you the chance to meet your real father, David," he said with a pensive look.

She thought the man must have finally lost it. There was no way on Earth she would ever partner with him. And how could she believe a single word he said? Perhaps this was another way to bend her to his will. Was killing Philip not enough for him?

"A partnership?" she asked. "When Hell freezes over," she responded coldly, void of all emotions.

He smirked and abruptly shot to his feet. "Think it over; I will await your response within a week."

With that, he left her alone in her room, and for the first time, she felt truly alone. The news of Philip's death left a gaping hole in her chest. She now understood that the heart could truly ache. The pain was physically real.

She walked to the mirror and stared at the face reflected there. She no longer recognized her reflection. She was not the same woman who would drive in her car singing carelessly. She was someone else. She looked down at her hands, the hands that were embraced ever so lovingly by Phillip. Why was she not able to save him? She had clearly healed him just moments before, with a simple touch. She wasn't even trying then. Yet, when she focused and really tried to heal him, nothing happened.

She felt guilty; it was all her fault. If she had never gone snooping, then she would have never met him, and he would still be alive. But perhaps this was all meant to be; if Rutherford was right, she had ties to this place that predated her and Phillip. Was he truthful about who her parents are? Was she so loved by her mother, that she gave up her life to protect hers? Was her biological father still alive? She glanced at the journals and recalled all the stories she had read of David and how heroic he was. It eased her aching heart to know that there is a chance Rutherford was truthful.

A knock on the door snapped her out of her train of thoughts. She got up and opened the door, finding Sandy standing there with tear stains down her cheeks. She fell on her shoulder sobbing, while Elaine stood transfixed like an emotionless, lifeless, zombie.

"We all heard about Phillip," she breathed between sobs.

Elaine had no response, no reaction, nothing. She just stood there. She felt numb to the world around her. Even her tears seemed frozen. She wondered if they also knew she was the reason he died.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Philip opened his eyes and was greeted with absolute darkness. The first thought that came to his mind was Elaine. They were in the fish tank; she hit the wall; she was hurt; panic shot through him. He tried sitting up abruptly but bumped his head on metal and he was confined within a plastic bag. Is that a body bag, he thought to himself? He searched with his fingers for the inside of the zipper but grew weary fumbling with it. He placed his hand on the bag and incinerated it from the inside out. The cold table underneath him, and the dark room around him told him he was in the morgue, in a freezer judging by the temperature. Well, better than an incinerator, he thought to himself.