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Look at all the lonely people
Some people were born to die.
It was a fact that (Y/N) had long accepted to be true. And she knew was true in her life. She had been born ill and no doctor could ever heal her, just keep her alive. She never knew the definition of living, just surviving, until she met one Michael Morbius.
(Y/N) had found someone who she could finally relate too, someone she could love and cherish. She had found the person who wouldn’t look at her like a glass doll as he knew and understood, better than anyone, the weight of the knowledge that you would die young. She had found someone who wanted to live as much as she did.
Michael knew it was risky approaching (Y/N) with the serum. If she agreed, they would be the first humans to trial his bat DNA cure. He now was not only fighting for his and Milo’s survival but hers too. Her condition was different but just as deadly. It would be almost impossible to cure himself; but to save (Y/N) too, that would be a miracle. He had to try.
“Come with me,” He had said one night as they were both sitting in his lab, analysing a patients charts together. “Milo has funded the latest development in the bat experiment. Come with me.”
“Sure. Why not?”
They had set out soon after. Michael often sneaking a look at (Y/N), memorising the details as if it was the last time. It didn’t take long for the two of them, as well as Dr. Bancroft to perfect the serum and for it to be ready for the first trial.
Michael had known that (Y/N) was excited for this project to work, or at least make progress towards a cure, but he hadn’t expected for her to volunteer to take it at the same time as his, dubbing it as “Something fun to do.”
He also hadn’t expected the side effects of the serum. The strength, the agility, or the thirst-ridden memory loss. He didn’t remember killing the crew members of the ship. He didn’t remember Dr. Bancroft being launched away and being knocked unconscious. And he certainly didn’t remember the serum not working on (Y/N).
All the lonely people. Where do they all belong?
Once his bloodlust had worn off, he had gone looking for her, hoping that she wasn’t injured. At a first glance she looked like she was asleep, no visible marks or wounds. He had let out a sigh of relief until he tried to wake her when he found her body cold and lifeless.
She was dead; and it was his fault.
The next days flew by in a blue as Michael worked on autopilot, he didn’t fully remember leaving the boat, experimenting with his abilities or Milo’s downfall. It was like his mind and body were two separate entities. They only seemed to collide back into one body when he stood looking at her grave. Michael was alone once more.
Wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave. No one was saved
All the lonely people