Their Fragile Strength

Bone Deep

The last few hours have been a blur. Once Dr. Bryant came out of his gleeful boy phase he sported the look of a man who'd seen war and I'm sure both Julian and I sported the same look. We each continued cleaning, occasionally muttering a directive here or a soft warning for someone to watch the steps or where they were putting a delicate piece of equipment. After verifying that the chemical the leader in charge of the armed intruders poured did in fact erase every trace of DNA and any useful information from the table and biohazard bins, we agreed to call it quits.

It wasn't until I was by myself that I collected the samples from the trash bins and emptied some dirty gloves of more samples. I had made sure those gloves weren't the same colors as the empty ones.

As tired as I was, I made sure to put them in a small portable cooler meant to transport tissue samples and import specimen. I emptied a gym bag I had from earlier in the week and put the samples in with my actual gym clothes on top. I placed along them some of the articles and textbooks Julian and I had been studying what felt like ages ago.

Now I sit on the couch in my living room staring at the bottom of a glass of wine. My fingers holding the bottom of the glass look red through the dark liquid. I have soft soulful tunes crooning on my Alexa.

I'm still at a loss for why this is happening. who were those men? Why did they choose me? Why lie about what caused the bite? was an experiment gone wrong of some sort?

My eyes feel hot and gritty and my exhaustion is bone deep. I wanted to sleep but despite being so tired my brain was too full to entertain sleep. More questions come, like would I recognize my coworkers when I see them next or did today change them too much? did I change too much? what would I find when I ran the tests on the specimen samples.

These questions keep circling in my head but I come up with no answers. When I came home I needed something to calm me down so I could think rationally.

On my third cup of wine I feel slightly warm but no less anxious. Flight or flight is still activated and every sound has me ready to jump out of my skin.

I'm still trying to unsee all the blood and Dr. Bryant's strange expressions when I feel something touch my leg and I jump. panicked and searching for the threat my wine sloshes over the rim of the glass and I half crouch behind my couch. my eyes keep darting from the windows to the door when I feel it again and realize my Bengal cat Octaviaen is rubbing himself against me.

I sit there in a near panic and my cat is just clueless trying to get some ear rubs. the situation seems laughable. and despite knowing there is no danger my heart won't stop pounding and my breath is still coming out in short panting breaths.

I feel like crying and when I think f**k it, I will, I instead find myself busting out in laughter.

I'm not sure what exactly is funny. maybe it's the fact I'm having a panic attack and my cat has no clue or care that there is anything wrong. maybe it's because part of me thinks and hopes this whole day was an elaborate nightmare I constructed after reading to many bizarre articles but I cant figure out how to wake. Finally, as if I offended him, Octaviaen turns and flicks his tail as he disappears out of the living room. I'm still laughing weakly as tears start falling down my cheeks. Scooting my wine glass onto the coffee table in front of me, I barely notice when another hand steadies it.

I soon drift off to dream of nightmarish things.