[b]Part 2[/b]

(Red) Yellow - Izea sneaks Sasha out of the hospital: he can't bear to kill him now and knows people will come looking soon.

(Green) Blue - The beast doesn't 'change back' into Sasha, even when the body slowly starts to regain movement. Izea has to deal with the weakened beast.

(Orange) Teal - Sasha slept for years, the beast slowly merging with him in a desperate bid not to die completely. He has new instincts, but cannot be taken over completely. Izea has not moved but has become a recluse. 

(Orange) Maroon - It is the next day. Izea is about to move away to escape the memories when Sasha catches up with him.

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[b]Yellow[/b] – His gaze turns to the window and after a few seconds he answers me softly. “We run.” I can see a kind of strength returning to him, his breathing becoming stronger with each breath he takes.

[i]'That's my Izea. You never give in'[/i] Despite my feeling still eluding me I can recall how I would feel at a time like this and the memory brings a faint smile to my lips. Nodding silently I stand up carefully and wander over to the small cart I've been using as a dresser during my stay. Behind me I see Izea pocket the syringe through my periphery, and I do not blame him. [i]'I would rather he he feel safe, and that I have the option should I feel myself slipping again'[/i] Pulling on some jeans and a plain white button up tee I turn back to him and give him another nod.

Without a word we set off into the flashing lights. Despite the carnage, the smell flooding my head and making it spin, I feel almost as if I am seeing the scene through a TV screen. Somewhere, somehow, it is all real, but to me my mind can not accept that it's right here in front of me. Reaching out a put an arm around Izea's waist as he stumbles slightly in a pool of blood. Glancing over at him I see his eyes are fixed strait ahead. But rather than looking as if he's trying to avoid the massacre, I recognize the look of deep concentration he gets when he begins planning far into the future. Suddenly we both freeze, the sound of sirens drawing our attention like a gun shot.

“This way!” he unnecessarily whispers. Grabbing my hand we turn down a side hallway and race as fast as we can towards the far end. Like a game of whiplash he takes several turns at top speed, his grip on my hand firm but causing my to snap back and forth as I try to anticipate his next turn. As we race along hallway after hallway, down flights of stairs and through a string of abandoned looking rooms the bloody mess lessens and eventually a thick layer of dust on the floor lets me know that we won't be seeing any more bodies.

“What is this place?” I ask softly as we pass an ancient looking X-ray machine. In fact, most of the device we pass now look nearly midevil.

“The dean here likes collecting old things, and uses the unused wing down here, the old mental ward, to store them. He comes though maybe ever six months or so to look at and toy with them, adding one or two new slash old devices a year.” He responds. His look of concentration softens slightly. “He and I use to talk about old treatments for disorders and the like, making fun of the primitive medicines, while simultaneously marveling at some of the innovation those old medicine men showed in their day.” His face falls once more and I con only guess I killed the dean in my rampage by the slightly sick expression now donning his features.

Finally we reach an old boiler room, the pipes all cold and cobwebs hanging from almost everything. With a faint cough he slows and following a faint stream of light coming from a little square window across the room we at last come to a door. He tries the handle a few time, then with a harsh grunt he manages to turn it one handed. The groaning creak of the rusty hinges makes me cringe but the rush of cool evening air is by far the most refreshing thing I've smelled all night. Still holding tight to me Izea moves through the door, and I follow after, flinching slightly at the cold stone beneath my feet. Closing the door carefully I take a moment to examine the place where we are now. It looks to be a shallow stone cave, and as we move forward unto the moonlight I can see that it is a natural formation. The cave empties into a thick forest, the cave itself set into a hill, and several yards beyond that the bleach white wall of the hospital's old mental ward rises up into the night.

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[b]Blue[/b] - Following closely behind my friend I watch my body move, ever so slightly as we reach our destination. [i]~Watch out Izea, it's moving~[/i] He pauses, looking over my immobile form closely and I feel a faint tingle. [i]~Did he hear me?~[/i] My fingers move again and Izea swallows hard. 

“Hold on, just a little bit more my friend.” He whispers softly, turning my bed around so that my body is facing a large one way glass viewing area. I float slowly around the room, having been here many times it feels familiar even though I was never myself in this room.

[i]~This is smart. Even if the police storm the place, this area is restricted access, built to keep me in. There is no way they could get in here with anything short of a heavy duty bomb~[/i] I watch as my body begins moving slowly, the straps holding me down creaking slightly. Izea ducks out of the room, the door to the observation area in the hall rather than between the two rooms. For safety reasons. Trying out my new abilities I float close to the glass. The distinct lack of a reflection feels a bit off, but after a few seconds I drift through, wanting to see what Izea is up to.

The monitors of the various devices and computers slowly hum to life as he begins flicking them on one by one. I watch as he glances every few seconds to my now relatively active body. I too keep an eye on it, praying the beast does not damage what I hope to get back into some day. [i]~Hey, don't pull at the restraints like that, you're going to dislocate my shoulder~[/i] Izea's eyes snap to the figure beyond the glass. 

Stalking over quickly at the sight of my still groggy form rocking this way and that he leans down a but to a long flexy neck microphone. Slapping the big red call button under it he tries to calm “Me” down. “C'mon Sasha, I know you're not stupid. Even if you're pure beast right now, you've never been stupid enough to hurt yourself. You don't have the body right now, so just let me work, and don't take your frustration out on yourself.” I can't help chuckling as he tries to reason with the beast currently manipulating my body. The sound is echoed by Izea as he steps away from the glass with a shake of his head. “I can't believe I'm trying to talk to it. . . . .Sasha, what's happened to you. . . . .”

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[b]Teal[/b] – I can feel a burning in my lungs as they get use to being used again. A low rumble from above lets me know that either a storm has just passed, or is about to let loose it's fury. [i]'I need to find Izea. He is the only one who can help me at this point. Mother and father. . . .'[/i] Shaking my head I begin my slow trek down the road towards my home. The rumble sounds again followed by crackling. Looking up I try to figure out how close the storm is, however above I see stars. [i]'That's funny. It sounds so close'[/i] It takes several minutes of pained wobbling before my steps even out a bit. It seems the longer I walk, the easier it becomes. Suddenly a peal of thunder drives me to my knees, clamping my hands hard over my ears. Once again I seek out the storm. This time I can see the clouds, but they are still a good distance away. [i]'That's impossible! At this distance it should have. . .'[/i] Even through my hands the next crack pound hard on my eardrums.

Taking a deep breath I pull myself to my feet and begin moving as fast as I can towards my old neighborhood. From inside the houses I pass I can hear voice, the sound of machinery, TVs babbling away. [i]'I can hear it all. It's as if I am standing right beside these noises. It's. . . . .Something is wrong'[/i] Choking on my own saliva as my pace quickens I notice that I am literally panting as I run. The old burn returns, but instead of overwhelming me it seems to almost aid in my actions. My footing is surer, my balance better. Skidding to a halt I can feel my breathing slowing quickly. Before I can give these oddities too much thought however an unearthly call goes up in the distance that freezes my blood in my veins.

[i]'I know that sound. I made one much like it when I would transform. Izea would play it for me. . . .'[/i] Turning slowly towards the sound my eyes seem to focus much like a telescopic lens and I spy movement in the distance. [i]'Four of them. Oh god, has it spread? Did this. . .this. . . Whatever it is, spread? How!? I thought it was destroyed after I was infected. . . .The other test subjects were terminated as well, or so they told us. . . .'[/i] In a panic I take off once again, but a part of my mind knows they are following. In less than a minute I reach our home. However I can hear them behind me. Pausing on the old worn looking porch I whip around to face them. The sight of them makes my heart race, like looking in a distorted mirror. They are all a bit smaller than I was when I changed, but other than that they have all the physical features I remember. 

Sharp claws dig into the soft soil of the yard as they prowl back and forth, their eyes watching me intently. Somewhere deep inside I can feel the beast stirring. Unconsciously I let out a faint growl, and they recoil. [i]'Okay, this is too weird, it's like they are afraid of me. But, I look human now. . . .Why?'[/i] Not willing or ready to think on such things I reach behind me and grab the handle to the front door. Letting out another growl I turn it and the faint click lets me know it's unlocked. In one swift motion I open the door and dart inside, practically slamming it after me. 

The relief at being in a familiar place and away from creatures built for killing lats only moments. It takes a few seconds but eventually my surroundings sink in and I can tell something has gone very astray. Piles of boxes block off half of the front entrance hallway, and to my left I can see a kitchen in need of a thorough scrubbing. Moving carefully through the what looks to be controlled chaos I take a closer look at the kitchen. [i]'I recognize these dishes, Izea still lives here. However his fastidious nature seems to have. . . . .become rather lax'[/i] My nose wrinkles with the amount of dust floating in the air, however I can tell by even cursory examination that the place isn't actually filthy, just, cluttered.

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[b]Maroon[/b] – It took the rest of the night for me to make my way to the street with out house on it. One or twice during the night I had to lay down and rest, my muscles giving out on me or jerking involuntarily. Now, as the sun rises turning the blanket of stars into a sheet of pink and golden hues my movements are steady. The light allows me to examine my skin and with a grin I nod as I am now nearly appropriately flesh toned. [i]'Good, now I won't look like a zombie when I show up at out front door after rising from the dead'[/i] Looking down the street my heart skips a beat as I notice a moving van parked in front of our house, a pair of movers hauling what is distinctly my favorite sofa up the ramp into the back. [i]'He's moving? Well, I guess that makes sense, but then, how long was I gone?!'[/i] Picking up the pace my eyes travel from house to house in a vain attempt to gauge how long it has been since I saw them last.

[i]'Though that would not help much seeing as I spent so long in the hospital and any changes I notice now could have happened during that time period'[/i] Just then I catch sight of a familiar head of black hair and before I can think about what I am doing I call out, “Izea my friend, moving so soon?”

Even at a distance I can see his whole body freeze at the sound of my voice. Hoping that he doesn't bolt outright I break into a jog, closing the distance between us swiftly. When I am less than ten paces away his head comes slowly around and our eyes meet. To say he is shocked is an understatement, however my own feelings, so long absent from me, overcome all my rational and in a rush I practically plow into him, wrapping my arms firmly around his back. His body is tense, and from the light tremble I can tell he's not going to readily respond to me, however I can not break my hold. “Forgive me my friend, I do not wish to frighten you, I am just so happy to see you again.” My voice is rough from disuse but I continue despite the pain. “I don't know what happened nor why I am still alive, but I am glad you did what you did. I'm know you did what you thought right, and I feel comfort in the fact that you were willing to kill me when I needed it.”

As my voice trails off I feel a wetness against my cheek. Leaning back I look into my friend's eyes and I see they are damp. My stomach turns once but after a few seconds I realize that his tears are ones of joy. Unable to speak he mouths the question, “Am I dreaming?” Shaking my head hard I feel tears of my own pouring out over my cheeks and with a shuddering breath I pull him back into a tight hug. This time, he reciprocates. 

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And that is the end of Part Two! I am glad one of my ideas lives on! I can't wait to see what comes next!