Mutation!

A sudden shift in the air made Luther's eyes narrow as he focused on the pool of strange liquid Hailey had just expelled. Something felt… off.

The dark green substance glistened with a faint, gel-like sheen, subtly different from anything he'd ever seen. It was thick, sticky, and disturbingly alive. As he watched closely, he noticed that the liquid was slowly, almost imperceptibly, inching toward him.

But what struck him most was the scent, a fresh, strangely inviting fragrance that wafted from the puddle. It was completely unexpected, a pleasant aroma that seemed out of place for something so unnatural. The contrast between its sickly appearance and the alluring smell stirred a sense of unease within him.

Beside him, Hailey seemed equally surprised, her pale face betraying both shock and confusion. She hadn't anticipated such an intense reaction, and certainly hadn't expected to vomit in such a… well, undignified way.

She paused, taking a deep breath, and noticed something remarkable, her body felt lighter, as though a great weight had been lifted from her. The heaviness and exhaustion she'd felt just moments before were gone, leaving her in a strange, almost buoyant state.

"Am I… cured?" she whispered to herself, disbelief flickering across her face. She took another deep breath, savoring the refreshing aroma lingering in the air. The fragrance was strangely comforting, as if her entire body were slowly unwinding.

But then, without warning, a searing pain tore through her chest. It was as though thousands of tiny, invisible ants were gnawing away at her lungs. She gasped, clutching her throat, and collapsed onto the bed, her face turning a sickly shade of blue as each breath grew heavier and more labored.

Dark shapes began to flicker in her vision, familiar faces, hazy and distorted, like specters from her past. Her parents, her grandfather, people she barely recognized were all there, reaching out, calling to her, inviting her to come closer.

"G-Grandpa…" she whimpered, her voice barely a whisper, her breath hitching painfully. "It… hurts…"

Each inhale felt like something was tearing into her lungs, eating her alive from the inside. She couldn't hold on much longer. Through her blurred vision, she could just make out a figure beside her, a gentle presence she knew well.

"Luther…" she murmured, struggling to speak, her voice faint and broken. "I… I'm sorry… I'm… happy…"

She tried to say more, to tell him how much his kindness meant to her, but her strength was fading fast. Her vision darkened, her mind slipping into a hazy fog.

Then something warm touched her lips, a liquid, sweet and rich, filling her mouth. It trickled down her throat, bringing with it a surge of life, pulling her back from the edge.

"Drink," Luther's voice commanded, firm and calm. "Just drink. I'll get you out of here after you're finished. Stay outside and don't come back in unless I say so."

Gradually, her senses returned, her surroundings coming back into focus. She opened her eyes, wide with surprise, and realized she was cradled in Luther's arms as he carried her down the stairs, moving swiftly but carefully.

As her head lolled slightly, she noticed his wrist, blood was seeping from it, staining his sleeve. Her gaze drifted to her own mouth, realizing with a start what she had tasted.

It was his blood.

A sharp pang of guilt gripped her. Mustering what little strength she had, she raised her hand to her lips, wiping away the remnants of blood, and then stared at her hand, horrified.

"I… drank his blood again…" she whispered, despair flooding her chest. She had become a burden to him, once more dragging him into her problems, forcing him to give of himself to save her. And yet, even now, he was gentle, caring for her without hesitation.

He's a good person, she thought, her heart aching. He's so kind, so selfless… And I…

Her thoughts trailed off, her heart heavy with shame and regret. She was weak, a constant source of trouble, and he… he deserved better.

With the last of her strength, she reached into her hand, where she had hidden a crumpled piece of paper, a note she'd scrawled hastily before. She struggled to slip it into his pocket as he carried her, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Take it," she thought, a final surge of emotion filling her as her energy waned. "This is all I have left to give."

And with a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the comfort of his arms, letting herself fall into the darkness, hoping he would understand the message hidden in the paper and find peace, even if she couldn't be there to witness it.

Hailey's eyes rolled back, and she slumped unconscious in Luther's arms, her breathing shallow. Luther glanced at the crumpled piece of paper she had slipped into his pocket, then back at her face, streaked with tears even in her unconscious state.

He sighed, shaking his head. "What a mess…" he muttered.

Carrying her gently, he stepped outside the clinic, closing the door firmly behind him. For a moment, he stood there, gazing up at the office window on the second floor, unease etched across his face. He hadn't anticipated anything like this, not the plague, not Hailey's condition, not the strange creature that had emerged.

At the time, when the refreshing, almost floral scent had wafted through the air, his system had erupted with a cascade of frantic alerts. Initially, he thought it was just a side effect of Hailey's illness, perhaps a symptom of some rare condition. But as soon as he activated the system and saw the information flood in, his blood ran cold.

Dozens of unfamiliar diseases, each more terrifying than the last, flashed across his screen, all tied to the same entity: Nawasir, the Source of the Plague.

Luther clenched his fists at the memory. If not for the system's built-in immunity, he would've succumbed instantly. This thing, this crawling, green liquid, wasn't just a pathogen, it was a biological nightmare. A relic, an ancient overlord with low presence according to the system, but to Luther, it was nothing short of a living weapon.

And it had been hiding in Hailey's body all along.

But why now? Why did it emerge when it did? The timing baffled him. What had triggered it to surface?

Questions swirled in his mind, but there was no time to dwell. Nawasir was loose, and it was a threat unlike anything he'd faced before. Its very presence turned people into vessels of despair and disease, and he'd seen firsthand what it had done to Hailey in just seconds.

Her transformation had been swift and horrifying. Clumps of her hair had fallen out, leaving patches of bald scalp. Dark green spots bloomed across her skin, creeping over her head and down her face. Her limbs, too, showed grotesque changes; dark red granulations erupted under her skin, visible even through the muscle. It was as if her body was being rewritten, turned into something monstrous.

If he hadn't acted when he did, if he hadn't fed her his blood in a desperate gamble; she might already have been lost, consumed entirely by the plague's influence.

Now, as he looked down at her, the changes had halted but hadn't fully reversed. Her head was mostly bald, her left cheek still mottled with green spots. The granulations on her arms and legs pulsed faintly, like something alive, waiting for a chance to grow.

Reaching the well, Luther set Hailey down carefully, propping her against the stone. He took out the piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, curious about what she'd given him.

His lips quirked into a small, unexpected smile. It was the story about vertical pupils, the one she had teased him about earlier.

"Of course," he murmured, tucking the paper back into his coat. But he didn't linger on it. Instead, he crouched beside Hailey, his voice dropping to a soft whisper as he leaned close to her ear.

"I'm waiting for you to tell me this story in person," he said, his tone firm but gentle. "So stay here, alright? Don't run off."

He paused, his voice lowering further. "I'd be disappointed if I didn't find you here when I got back. And Hailey doesn't want to be a big liar, does she?"

The words hung in the air, a quiet plea wrapped in warmth. He brushed a strand of hair, what little remained, from her face. As a doctor, he'd seen despair in many forms, but Hailey's was different. She was young, vulnerable, and teetering on the edge of something he couldn't ignore.

He could sense it, she'd felt the changes in her body, knew they were unnatural. When she'd handed him the note, it wasn't just an act of desperation; it was a goodbye. She'd been preparing to give up.

Luther's jaw tightened. He wasn't going to let that happen.

He rested a hand lightly on her head, his touch steady and reassuring. "Listen to me," he said, his voice firmer now. "You're still human, Hailey. You haven't turned into a monster. Not yet, and not ever. I'll find a way to fix this, but you need to stay here and wait for me. No running. No hiding. And definitely no… you know. None of that."

Her body trembled slightly in response, and a moment later, her eyes fluttered open. Tears spilled freely as she lunged forward, burying her face against his chest. Luther froze for a moment, then sighed, wrapping an arm around her as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"It's alright," he said quietly. "Let it out. You've been through hell, but you're still here. You're still you."

Hailey clung to him, her small frame shaking with the force of her emotions. She cried for everything; the fear, the pain, the shame, the changes in her body, and the overwhelming kindness of the man who refused to give up on her.

"I'm sorry," she choked out between sobs. "I'm so sorry… I'm… I'm scared…"

"I know," Luther murmured, stroking her back gently. "But you don't have to face this alone. I'll handle it. You just focus on staying alive, alright?"

She nodded weakly, her sobs slowing as exhaustion overtook her once more. Luther eased her back against the well, her breathing steady but heavy. He stood, glancing at her one last time before turning toward the path leading away from the clinic.

As he walked, his mind raced. Nawasir was still out there, a lurking threat he couldn't afford to ignore. But even with the odds stacked against him, Luther's resolve hardened. He wasn't just fighting for himself anymore, he was fighting for her.