Drown

Thomas held his breath as he lowered the scalpel to the rat's quivering body. It writhed and trembled against his gloved hand. As the blade sank into the flesh, a barrage of squeals pierced the air, which he ignored. He hadn't administered an anesthetic. It was a waste of time to deliver it to an animal he knew was going to die. Poor beast. The blood came next, a crimson flower blooming from the gash.

"Shhh," he cooed. "It will be over soon."

The rat had appeared stable even after he removed it from the water, displaying a normal level of activity and breathing regularly. But he had to know for sure.

He exhaled as he cut through the ribs, that cage of bone that concealed his prize. He needed to get to the lungs. Gingerly, Thomas opened up the rat's chest cavity and excitement stirred in him. The lungs pulsed as the rat drew in minuscule breaths. In place of the shriveled gray stones from experiments past were the two working organs he had waited so long to see.

He took off his gloves and felt them with his bare fingers. Their slimy smooth texture. Their form, simultaneously supple and firm. Evidence that the serum had finally worked. He closed his eyes and sighed with pleasure.

Coming back to reality, he drew his scalpel over the rat's throat. It was funny to him, how easy it was. One swift motion of the hand. Another life taken.

Thomas unpinned the animal's limbs and turned it over. Tufts of the creature's fur had fallen out, replaced by shiny, half-moon scales, and between its toes, thin membranes had formed. Fresh gills flared out on either side of its neck. He ran his fingers over the soft flaps of skin. His beautiful creation.

He would run a few more trials just to be sure it worked. Then all he needed to do was try it on himself.

---

Ever since he'd nearly drowned in the lake near his childhood home, Thomas's deepest fear had been just that. He truly thought he was going to die then, his life snuffed out by one of the very thing humans needed to survive. It felt like a betrayal. Water extinguishes fire, but what was he supposed to do when it was water that seared his lungs and set them ablaze?

For weeks afterward he barely ate. He despised his body for needing to breathe. And when he slept, nightmares plagued him - water as black as pitch churning and swelling, filling every crack and crevice of his room until he had nowhere left to hide.

That was when Thomas decided he would unlock the ability to breathe underwater in humans. On one of those sleepless nights it came to him, a beacon in the darkness.

His determination soon overshadowed his fear and he took to catching fish in the lake to experiment on them. He would hold them out of the water to see how long it took them to suffocate. He would skin them and cut apart their sleek bodies with kitchen knives, laying the bloody pieces out to study their structures. He tore out their gills while they were still alive.

As a young man, he studied everything he could about animals, and quickly landed a job as a researcher at an aquarium, knowing it would be the best way to gain access to the specimens and tools he needed. The director, a woman named Kimberly O'Hara, accepted him eagerly. He did not care about the wellbeing of his animals - they were resources to him, not pets - but as long as he pretended to, preaching his false love for them and leading conversation efforts, he knew could do as he pleased.

---

I love Thomas Avery. That's the thought that had recently wormed its way into Kimberly's mind. She didn't know what to make of it at first. They had nothing romantic between them. Dr. Avery was charismatic, albeit odd, and had a pleasant visage, but Kimberly knew that wasn't it. She was pushing 50 and already had a partner, while Dr. Avery was still a young man. No, this had come about right after the unveiling of his newest breakthrough, an advanced dolphin tracking device - just one of many projects he'd been at the helm of. Watching him talk about his creations filled her with a motherly pride. She felt a pang of regret that she didn't get to see him more often, as he usually secluded himself in his lab.