by A. Giacomi
Yes, I still handwrite all my notes like I have been living under a rock all these years.
The truth is that I can’t absorb as much off of a glowing screen; it doesn’t work for me. I get many looks from students with their cute little laptops, possibly even sneers of disapproval. Snobs, all of them, I say. Why do they take such offense to my style of learning? “Screw off,” I mutter to myself as I think of some of the faces in my classes.
Mark looks up at me. “You talking to me, man? I swear I didn’t do anything! I did not drink the last beer in your mini fridge, Nah-uh!”
I have to laugh. I know he took it, but I don’t care in the least.
“Nah, man it’s cool. I didn’t mean you. I’m just talking to my pile of notes. I’m so not in a studying mood right now. I don’t think I’ve learned a single thing in the past hour.”
“So stop studying, Cam. Let’s go get some beers, or we can go find us some lady friends?”
I shake my head and blush; my thoughts immediately go to Eve. I have been trying so hard not to think of her. Mark reads my mind so easily; am I that transparent?
“Seriously, man, you got to stop thinking about that girl Eve. She seems to unravel you. You sure you want a relationship like that? She has you wrapped around her little finger. One day I’ll be asking someone, ‘Hey, where’s Cam?’ And they’ll say, ‘Oh, he’s become Eve’s new backpack,’ or worse her new purse! Dude, that cannot happen! You’re a man, not a purse! You get what I’m saying?”
I laugh so hard at this comparison it hurts. “What? A purse? Man, you are ridiculous!”
Mark points at me and says, “Hey, man, I just call it as I see it.”
We have just returned to our studies when there is a knock at the door. My heart pounds. I want it to be Eve, and I want it not to be Eve at the same time. I signal Mark to get the door; he sighs with resentment. He knows I am being a coward.
When Mark goes to answer the door, his eyes widen, and he remains silent.
“Uh, Cam, I’m going to hit the gym for a bit. I’ll be back in like an hour.”
I’m curious as to who is at the door, and I’m even more curious as to why Mark bolts so quickly. After Mark fumbles out the door, I look out into the hallway and find Claire dressed provocatively. Claire is wearing a very short trench coat and perhaps nothing else. Her heels are six, no seven, inches tall, and they make her legs look like they go for miles. I have to admit my mouth hangs open a bit as she stands there.
She forces her way through the doorway and into my arms.
“Claire? I thought you never wanted to see me again. I thought…”
She tells me to hush before I can finish telling her off, and she shoves me into my reclining chair. When I’m seated, she turns her back to me and speaks. “I realized that I forgive you. You said you’ll never love me, and I forgive you for saying that.”
I start to feel more scared than turned on; this girl is truly nuts. I think she might be hearing voices in her head. I thought I was clear that I have no interest in her, and somehow here we are again. How can I convince Claire to leave me alone? Insulting her doesn’t work, ignoring her doesn’t work, and breaking her heart doesn’t work. Suddenly I have an idea; I haven’t tried being a pig. Claire thinks I am Mr. Perfect; well maybe I can try my hand at being the complete opposite.
“I don’t need your forgiveness, sugar tits. I just want you to shake your fat ass for me so I can shower you with dollar bills. Are You going to stand there all day? Or are you going entertain me? I’m a little bored with your talking, sweetie.” I smile a little, thinking this is so insulting and misogynistic that Claire will slap me and leave.
As I sit there smiling and oh so proud of myself, Claire silently drops the trench coat to the ground. She’s wearing nothing but a pink lace bra and panties to match. This girl clearly has no respect for herself.
“Cam, I was hoping you would say that. I came prepared to entertain. I will do anything to be with you.”
I can see the pure insanity in her eyes. She really might do anything. Heck, if I asked her to kill my roommate, I’m afraid she’ll do it.
She begins to approach me slowly. I’m trying to think of something else, a plan, my next move, anything! My plan clearly fails because I don’t come up with a single idea.
She holds the armrests on my recliner and brings her face towards me. She’s about to kiss me. I pull my head back and yell, “Stop! This is so not right. Claire, what has gotten into you? We don’t belong together.”
Claire pouts in a very sexy way. “Why don’t you let me show how we can be together?” She winks and continues moving her lips towards my face.
I try to keep her at a distance with my arms, but she eventually uses her full body weight to take me down. The chair topples over, and I’m on the ground with Claire on top of me.
I’m about to kick Claire off of me when I hear a gasp at the doorway.
There stands Eve.
She looks as though she has shrunk. Her hand covers her mouth, and her eyes are wide with disbelief.
“Oh God no, Eve, this isn’t what it looks like.”
As I say it, I think about all the movies where men use that line, but it never makes it look any better. I’m sure this looks as terrible as it makes me feel. I only feel worse as I lay there looking into Eve’s eyes; she looks crushed. I want to cry at the sight of her.
Eve backs away from the entrance silently and is soon out of sight.
I have to go get her.
“Claire, get off me right now! I don’t believe in violence against women, but so help me God, I will punch you straight in the tit!”
Claire crosses her arms and refuses. She smirks a little, calling my bluff, but I’m not bluffing. I get an arm free, wind it up, and punch her square in the nipple. She gives a loud scream and topples over. I scramble to my feet and run out the door in the direction Eve went. I spot her in one of the corridors. I call her name. She looks back at me and then starts running in the opposite direction. I start sprinting; there is no way I am going to let her get away without hearing my explanation.
Eve is so much faster these days, but since she hasn’t been feeding enough, I figure she will ultimately wear herself out.
I eventually catch up to her. I grab her and force her against one of the walls in the hallway. “Eve, stop.”
She keeps pushing me away and won’t look at me. I know she’s crying. She doesn’t want me to see it. She never wants to show weakness to anyone, especially not to people who hurt her. Unfortunately, I am the one hurting her right now.
“Eve, please. I didn’t call Claire over. She showed up and pretty much attacked me. She’s crazy. You know that.”
Eve sobs louder and tries to break free. If she fed on a human recently, I’m sure she would have been able to tear my limbs off, but luckily for me, that isn’t the case.
“Cam, let go. Go back to Claire. You should be with Claire. It’s okay.”
I give her a baffled look. What is that supposed to mean?
“Eve, I don’t want to be with Claire.”
Eve begins to talk through her sobs. “But you should be with someone normal.”
I laugh at the thought of Claire being described as normal. “Claire is the freak here. She is so not normal, believe me!”
This does not comfort Eve; she looks so beaten down. Her sobbing stops, but her voice is so delicate and woeful. She whispers, “She’s more normal than I can ever be. You deserve someone human, someone, who won’t try and bite your face off.”
I tuck a finger under Eve’s chin and bring her face up to meet mine.
“How do you know that crazy hot mess wouldn’t try to bite my face off? Huh?”
Eve gives a little laugh. She tries to speak again, probably in an attempt to continue convincing me of how I shouldn’t love her, but that
sort of talk is years too late. I have been in love with her too long to feel any differently now. I have only ever been waiting for her.
I pull Eve close, and before she can protest any further, I kiss her again and again, for as long as she’ll let me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
EVE
I am on cloud nine for the next few days, even though I am eating hamster for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It isn’t quite as tasty as humans, but it seems to be keeping my hunger at bay. Cam might have something to do with my success too; I feel more like myself.
I can still feel Cam’s lips on mine as I enter Dr. August’s office. It is time for round two of testing. I wonder what he has in store for me today.
When I enter the office, I can see that Dr. August has crafted a plastic tent. I can only assume today will be very messy.
Dr. August appears in scrubs and throws something at me in passing. I unravel the package; it’s a hospital gown. Guess I am right about the messy part.
“Okay, what exactly do you have in mind for today? What’s with the Dexter tent?”
I place the hospital gown on and begin pulling my clothes off from underneath it.
Dr. August yells from the other end of the room, “We are going to test your healing. Hope you don’t mind. There may be a little blood.”
My gown is on, and I enter the plastic tent. There is a medical table inside. This is going to be chilly. I slowly make my way onto the metal slab. I stare at the top of the tent until Dr. August appears overhead.
“How are you feeling, dear? Are the hamsters working out?”
“Yes, actually, they are. I don’t feel hungry. I don’t feel sick. Maybe I’ll buy some guinea pigs next.”
I laugh a little, but Dr. August doesn’t share in my joke. He seems a bit off today. I wonder if it is because I ate his pet?
“I’m sorry I ate Marty. I know that’s not funny. I’d be pissed if anyone ever ate my dog, Winston.”
Dr. August takes off his glasses and seems so serious it scares me.
“Eve, honestly, it’s okay. Marty was helpful to our experiment. Let me ask you something.”
I don’t like the sound of that, but I signal for him to continue.
“What if we can’t fix this? I mean, I will try my best, but there is a chance this is permanent. Have you thought about leaving?”
I sit up on the metal table. “What the hell, Dr. August?! I’m scared out of my mind here, and you’re being negative all of a sudden! I don’t want to think about the alternatives right now. Where would I even go?”
He can see I’m ready to blow, and his tone changes slightly.
“No no, Eve, I’m sorry. I just, I just think you need to be away from here and safe if we can’t cure this. Trust me, I want to cure this for your sake and for the sake of anyone else affected by the Azrael Virus. I just want you to promise me you’ll disappear if people start finding out. It won’t be safe for you anymore. Do you understand me?”
He shakes me as he says this. He sounds desperate.
“Of course Dr. August, but I’m being as cautious as possible. I want to stay under the radar.”
He nods and then starts sifting through his tools again.
The first tool he pulls out is a knife.
“Now, Eve, I’m just going to make little incisions on your arms and legs and time their healing. Ready?”
“I guess so,” I snort.
The incisions don’t hurt very much; they just sting a little. I don’t bother looking. I’ve seen enough of my healing, and it is as normal as breathing to me now.
“Okay looks good, Eve. Each incision healed in about eight seconds. Now we need to try something a tad more drastic if it’s okay with you.”
Do I really have a choice?
Dr. August pulls out a gun and begins placing a silencer at the end.
Where the heck did he even get a gun like that?
“You’re going to shoot me? Really? That’s gonna suck. You know that, right?”
Dr. August looks at the gun and then back at me. “Well yes it might hurt, but we need to know if your body can heal bullet wounds just as quickly. I promise to only graze you with the first one.”
I feel a little queasy knowing we might have to do this multiple times.
“Have you ever even shot a gun before?”
Dr. August looks a bit confused. “Of course, I play video games all the time.”
Oh God, is he serious?
“Now, Eve, I need you to get off the table and come and stand over here by this wall. There is a foam wall here that will absorb the bullet.”
I stand in front of the wall and close my eyes. I think it will be better if I don’t see what is coming.
I don’t hear the bullet, but I feel a tear in my left arm. I open my eyes to find a chunk of my arm missing and a wall sprayed with blood.
“That was a good clean shot actually.” I’m impressed. It hurts a lot, but I can tolerate it.
Dr. August and I watch as the wound begins to seal.
“Amazing! Thirty seconds! That’s just incredible!”
Dr. August cheers as he wipes the dry blood from my arm. I feel a bit pleased with myself. It definitely is a cool trick.
“For the next shot, I’m going to have the bullet lodged in your body. I want to see how your body will handle a foreign object.”
I ask Dr. August to aim for my legs. I don’t feel comfortable with a torso shot yet. I will have to work up to that. I close my eyes again. This time, I scream as the bullet hits; I’m sure it has shattered bone. I crash to the ground and moan in pain. Dr. August runs to my side and inspects the wound.
“Well, it looks like the bullet is definitely lodged in there. I don’t see an exit wound.”
“No shit, Sherlock!”
I don’t mean to be rude, but I always curse when I get hurt. I mutter a few more choice words as Dr. August pokes around the wound for signs of healing. This will take a bit longer since I have to rebuild bone as well.
Dr. August times about a minute before we start to see some progress, and after two minutes, we see the bullet emerging. It looks like my body is trying to spit it out. Dr. August looks pleased. “Just as I thought, your body will reject the foreign object. You would never need to extract items.”
“So you’re saying I’m self-cleaning?”
Dr. August nods. “Precisely.”
These experiments are starting to get to my head. I feel very indestructible like I have Wolverine’s adamantium body. I can do anything, and this kind of power is deliriously tempting to use at any opportunity, but I have promised Dr. August I will play it low key.
“Okay, Doc. What’s next?”
I am excited to see the next test and clap my hands together to show my enthusiasm. I feel I can handle anything he throws at me. Dr. August walks towards an object covered by a sheet. When he removes the sheet, I think I let out a slight shriek. It’s terrifying sharp metal teeth are gleaming back at me.
“A chainsaw? Are you friggin crazy?”
Dr. August shrugs. “What? You can heal. Aren’t you the least bit curious if your limb will reattach or grow back? That knowledge would be of great use to you.”
I am starting to think Dr. August might have lost a few marbles along the way because he seems so calm despite how insane his idea is.
“And what if it doesn’t do either? What if I’m left without a limb? I don’t know if I can go through with this one! It’s too risky.”
Dr. August looks a bit disappointed, but I don’t care. It isn’t his body we are hacking apart today. He comes up to me and takes my hand, inspecting it closely. “What if we take a finger? If we start small and you see your healing working, you might feel confident enough to try a limb?”
What a psycho! I want to punch Dr. A
ugust, but he has peaked my curiosity.
“Fine, let’s try this finger.”
I hold up the middle finger on my left hand. Dr. August raises his eyebrow and looks a bit dismayed. Good, I’m glad I’ve offended him. It makes me feel a little better. I hold out my finger, and Dr. August goes to retrieve the chainsaw, which looks a bit drastic since it’s going to be slicing something so small in comparison.
He revs the chainsaw, sending shivers down my spine. Is there anything more terrifying than that sound? It reminds me of many tacky horror movies that I’ve seen. Although it seems the tackier the horror movie, the more gruesome and terrifying it is.
I decide to close my eyes; it has worked for me so far. The grinding of the chains is approaching; it is so loud, it can’t be far off. Soon, I am screaming. The slice isn’t as quick as I hoped. I feel the blade dig in and then continue scraping the bone until the top of my finger pops off.
I keep my eyes closed tightly during all this, but I can feel the blood spraying out of my finger and Dr. August retreating, trying not to get blood all over himself.
When I finally open my eyes, I can see the stump where the rest of my finger used to be. My first thought is a very superficial one; I think about how horrible my next manicure will look. Such a girly thought, but that’s what will bother me if it doesn’t grow back.
With gloves, Dr. August retrieves the rest of my finger and brings it over to me. We both wait to see if my finger will grow back. We wait close to five minutes, and nothing happens. I can see Dr. August sweating a little; this makes me feel a little less optimistic.
“I’m going to try holding the finger against the wound and see if it will reattach.”
I keep the fingers on my right hand crossed as Doctor August aligns digit to the stump. I really want this to work.
Dr. August holds the finger in place and starts counting the seconds. When he gets to ten seconds, it is like a magnet has turned on. My finger latches back onto the open wound. It is healing so rapidly it makes Dr. August jump back a bit. The healing hurts more than anything I have yet experienced; I can feel that it is taking a lot out of me.
