Part 2: The Dueanian Cycle #5

Post date: Mar 25, 2017 2:14:08 PM

Part 2: The Dueanian Cycle

“Let’s do this.”

Fisher eyed Baylee. She’d just watched Lark down two pots of sugar laced coffee and six cinnamon twists.

“Do you do this often?” Fisher asked, cringing as Lark shoved another twist into his mouth.

“Often enough,” Lark mumbled between swallows. “Why?”

“Aren’t you afraid of becoming diabetic?”

Lark licked his lips several times before replying. “Sickness is not a concern of mine.”

“What is your concern?”

Ignoring Fisher, Lark looked to Baylee. He held out his hand. “How fast will this react?” He asked referring to the vial she held.

“Almost immediately.”

Lark nodded and accepted the vial. Without preempt he moved closer to the fire and uncorked the vial pouring the contents out onto the palm of his hand.

The micro-beads started expanding before the liquid even touched his skin.

Arrows of light shot upward and Lark made a harsh gasping sound. His entire body convulsed and he fell to the ground dropping the vial.

Fisher’s eyes widened in horror. She jumped to her feet.

“Don’t!” Baylee cried. She reached out and grabbed Fisher’s arm before she could touch Lark. “It’s best that you don’t have contact with Dewey.”

“You’re kidding me!” Fisher shook off Baylee’s hand and turned to her. She pointed an angry finger at the writhing man at her feet. “This is what translating for Dewey does to him!” She accused. There was fire and hurt in her eyes. “You lied to me, again!”

Guilt flashed across Baylee’s features. “Not exactly.”

“You said translating was not dangerous!” Fisher shouted. “Tell me, Bay, what part of him is not in danger?”

“Do not be alarmed. My friend Lark will be quite fine.”

The voice was Lark’s only at a much higher pitch.

Fisher turned and abruptly fell backwards over the log she’d been sitting on at the shock of what her eyes were showing her.

The tiny vial’s contents had grown to the size and shape of Lark. The mass hovered off the ground and was a translucent orange colour.

But it wasn’t the newly formed mass replica of Lark that had Fisher scrambling on her hands and knees to the man still convulsing on the ground. It was Lark himself.

Tears of fear gathered in Fisher’s eyes, blurring her vision. “What’s happening to him?”

“It’s his body reacting to the immediate invasion of Dewey.” Baylee explained. “I miscalculated the rate of micro-bead expansion. I didn’t expect the transformation to hit Lark so hard. Give him a moment…you’ll see he’ll be okay.”

Fisher’s brain stalled.

Lark, who only seconds ago, was a healthy, robust specimen of the male form had been reduced to no more than a skeleton. His muscles had atrophied down to almost nothing, his weight diminished to the point where his skin hung off his frame, and his once tanned face was now ash white and flaky.

Fisher turned wild eyes to Baylee. “Okay? He’s dying.”

Baylee nodded. “Technically yes. Dewey comprises of water, oxygen, and carbon dioxide. In order for him to transform he needs a living-”

“Make him stop.”

“No.”

Fisher gaped at Baylee. “Did you just say, no?”

“Yes. Lark will be fine, trust me.”

Fisher’s eyes swung back to Lark. She shook her head. “This is insane, Bay. You’ve gone too far. You’re not my friend, you’re some kind of monster and this Dewey thing is just plain evil.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

The new voice was deep and angry.

Fisher’s head whipped around to meet the eyes of a man who looked close enough to Lark to be his brother.

“Darek,” Baylee said breathlessly, her cheeks flush. “What are you doing here?”