On the same day, Inak and Melody sat down at the cafeteria. It always smelled like boiled carrots and stale coffee. But that afternoon, the quiet hum of people talking, trays clinking, and machines buzzing barely reached their table in the corner.
Melody stirred her drink without looking at it.
"People seemed to love your seminar," she said with her voice light but careful, testing the waters. "How do you feel?"
Inak gave a faint smile, looking down at his tea. "That's good."
And it was. He felt... satisfied.
Melody's voice softened. "Freddie.. I can see that something's bothering you... please tell me. I've noticed ever since... you know. The funeral. You haven't been yourself. And even on stage, I saw you…"
She hesitated. "You're never present. You zone out, like you're somewhere else all the time. Always thinking."
"…And you always listen to me…rant, vent, talk about my life. But you... you never tell me anything. It's only fair. Let me be there for you… just for once. I'm here..."
Inak stared at the floor. Paused.
He wasn't sure if he should say it. Or if saying it would even make any difference.
But he finally nodded. Slowly.
"You're right, ever since then... there's been something in the back of my mind that I just can't get rid of..."
Melody leaned in. "What is it? Don't you think I have the right to know?"
She reached across the table and held his hand. Looked him in the eyes.
"How can I help you, Freddie? Is there anything I can do?"
Inak's eyes fell to their joined fingers, the warmth gave him a brief comfort and put a rest on his restless thoughts. After a pause, he forced a small smile and said, "But I'll be fine. Nothing to worry about."
Melody sighed, she felt like he is pushing her again…
just then, her phone buzzed sharply against the table. She glanced at it and frowned.
She picked it up, pressed it to her ear. "Yes… now? Alright, I'm coming."
She ended the call, then looked at him with a tired smile. "I have to be at the board again," standing up and smoothing her jacket. "They need me."
Inak nodded quietly, watching her leave. The chair beside him suddenly felt empty.
Inak sat there for a while after she left, staring at the space she'd just occupied.
He brought his drink to his lips and finished it in one long sip. Then, with an exhale, he stood up, picked up his cane and stepped outside.
---
The air had changed. It was cooler now, gentler. The sun was low in the sky, he took a moment and watched the soft streaks of gold and orange.
Inak stood there, watching the sky melt into evening.
"Hello, Doctor," came a voice, gentle but nervous.
He turned slightly to see a young woman approaching — early twenties, long hair tucked behind her ears, a tablet clutched against her chest. She slowed as she neared him. On the tablet's screen, visible for a brief moment, was a file labeled 'Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia.'
Inak's gaze passed over her. Posture, tone, eye movement, the way her fingers tapped unconsciously on the corner of the device. She was eager, and not just academically. There was admiration in her eyes. Respect, maybe even something softer.
"I wanted to thank you for the seminar," she said quickly. "I had some questions, but I was too nervous to speak up, and then I thought…"
She paused, glanced down, then met his eyes with a hesitant smile.
"Well… you only live once, right?"
That phrase.
That phrase…
His eyes widened slightly.
You only live once...
It repeated in his mind, louder the second time.
"I'm… sorry… I have to be somewhere." He said in a rush. The student nodded, a little disappointed but understanding, and stepped aside.
Inak gave a faint nod of thanks, then continued on toward the parking lot.
The parking lot was mostly quiet, just the distant hum of cars on the main road. He reached his car and got in, shutting the door with a dull click. For a moment he didn't move. Just sat there. Breathing. Thinking.
Then he reached across and set his bag on the passenger seat. Unzipped it. Pulled out the stack of papers he'd stuffed in earlier. Pages full of notes, diagrams, outlines. It looked like a body at first, but the more you stared, the more it looked like something else. A full blueprint of a human. He stared at it for a while.
His fingers rested on the edge of the paper. Like he was weighing something in his mind. This was the moment where it shifted from an idea to a decision.
Then he exhaled, folded the map back up, set it gently on the seat beside him, and started the engine.
---
Once home, he locked the door behind him and drew the curtains shut.
The apartment lights stayed off.
He moved in silence, placing his bag on the table and unpacking it with the same care a surgeon uses when laying out tools before an operation. He arranged the papers neatly across the desk...
then placed a clean notebook at the center. On the first page, he wrote 'Blueprint Of Resisting Necrosis' or BORN for short
---
A couple of days went by. He remained socially isolated… he ignored calls, messages, and anyone trying to contact him. Lecture responsibilities went unattended. Completely ignoring work.
He spent some days gathering specimens. Insects, roaches, beetles, a few flies trapped and frozen in plastic. Found in alleyways, dug out from under garden stones, lured from sewer grates. Others he acquired from pet supply stores: crabs, rats, small mammals, anything he could get his hands on.
And thanks to the seminar research at the department's lab, he already had several samples at his disposal. A few, he quietly took home for further study.
The guest bedroom had become unrecognizable. The walls were lined with small tanks, tubes, data pads, and rows of labeled containers. He called it the lab now. It smelled like bleach and rust.
---
Experiment Log – Day 5
Observations of the mutated Sacculina remain disappointing. Minimal progress noted. The parasite maintains hold on hosts, but there is little to no neurological interference.
Day 10
Parasite's host range has expanded. Now capable of infecting small mammals. Confirmed transmission to Mus musculus (small house mice) via subcutaneous exposure.
Day 16
Promising results. The parasite has successfully infected two of six mammalian subjects. Both exhibit signs of altered behavior.
---
Most of his time was spent watching, adjusting temperatures, and injecting small doses into newer specimens.
He hardly left the apartment.
On a late afternoon, the doorbell rang.
Ding... dong. Diiing-dong. Ding-ding-dong.
He froze, the scalpel still in hand, hovering over a dissected rat.
No one ever rang his bell. Not since he'd shut everything out.
He waited. The bell didn't ring again.
He didn't move for several minutes. Then, slowly, he returned to the specimen and resumed work.
---
Day 29
Small outbreak. Contamination is likely waterborne or airborne. Noted biofilm around one tank.
Disabling air vents in lab. Will no longer drink tap water. Food and liquids will be consumed exclusively from outside.
Thirty-Two days in… That's when he had noticed something, one rat in particular.
He was sure it had died… he had even logged it… but it was up again. Breathing. Moving. Healthy, even. Behaviorally normal.
He double-checked the records, the cage label, and the procedure log. No mistakes. Everything had been recorded precisely. Still… it didn't add up.
He stared at the rat for a long time. Then transferred it to a clean cage.
He planned to take it to the department lab the next day. Full workup. MRI... Internal scan... Every available test.
That night, for the first time in weeks, he slept deeply. Almost peacefully. Satisfied.