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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
With best friend turned into a devil!
What will you choose to be?
A friend or a foe?

Submitted: July 11, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 11, 2012



Author's Note: I apologize if my story is tagged under wrong genre and any possible errors in grammar and spelling. I would be thankful if anyone reading my story points out my mistakes for me. Enjoy reading!!!.

P.S. : Special apologies to my dear best friend who is certainly gonna kill me :p


Nothing has been changed since I last saw her, but the world seems to have gone upside down. From my being a chubby talkative creature to her being an emo; everything changed, a complete role reversal with her now being a socialite and myself a hermit. I feel uncomfortable with this role reversal, but she still remains my best friend. I don’t know what was different between her and other people, but somehow, I could reach a certain level of friendship only with her.

She is lying down on her side. Her limbs and mouth tied, her cheeks were stained with blood diluted with tears. She had been kid-napped. I don’t know how I stumbled upon her again. I didn’t want to. I was afraid to face this new girl and lose the well cherished memories of my loveliest friend. But fate had its own plans and while she needed her friend the most, I arrived; as friend or foe, I can’t tell.

A failed test, an experiment gone wrong, I can’t tell at this stage. I can just think of taking her far away from this man-slaughter she was committing or was made to commit. I just had to protect her from this unknown organization and from herself.

When I had actually known her in our days of un-breakable friendship, she had a dark bitter side to her, but it sure was not dark enough to commit such heinous crimes. I don’t know if I myself am committing a crime by taking her in my protection and without handing her over to the police. I am sure I can’t hand her over; I loved the bond of friendship we shared too much to let her be chomped in hands of either of the devils waiting for her.

I look down at her, now safely buckled up in my car, un-conscious by the morphine I injected in her veins and a peace settling over her features, as if she somehow knew that she had been saved and taken away from the cruel wolves who were ready to eat her alive.

I drove away from both the wolves and the dogs. I took her to my secluded mansion in middle of the forests, a place where she really belonged in her present condition. The other advantage of taking her there is the presence of my own laboratory in the mansion. I would be able to try curing her. Others would rather burn her alive than saving her.

I called upon the only helper and care-taker of the mansion to help me take her in. It was easy to help her inside the car in her previous half conscience, it will be difficult now. Any other person would have cried havoc over my bringing such a beast home but that wise old man knew better. He had seen me bring home worst of the beasts and care for them; though he did cry mayhem when I brought home a cub to treat over its wounds.

With help from my old man I took her inside the house and into the examining cage of a room joined in with my laboratory. She had wounds over her forehead, arms and little over her legs, none too deep. My helper (a previous banned doctor as he was) took care of all the wounds and locked her in but in better condition than her previous ‘care-takers’.

I looked back from the bars and saw her mother standing there. She was looking longingly at her daughter, her eyes wetting. I had rescued her, her husband and her other daughter from the cruel crowds months back and brought them here. The crowd wanted revenge, blood for blood. Their wounds had now fully healed. The crowd had not dared touch me for I was one of the scientists preparing anti-dote for those who had ‘survived’ and been caged in a similar cage as my dear friend here.

I left my friend's poor mother to view her from outside the cage. She needed rest before I could start the required tests on her.

My scientist mates would cry foul for taking her all to myself but my taking her and their taking her was a completely different business. They had barely stopped themselves from killing the other ‘survivors’ from their vigorous experimentation even after my repeated protests for the sake of their families and they would not stop themselves from going all the way to kill her as no one cared if she lived or died, not even the court of justice. My doing it was ethical too, because her parents had a certain level of faith in me and would let me treat their daughter.

I went in my bedroom and into the master bathroom to relax myself. I didn’t notice until now because of all the excitement of becoming a hero but it was chilling outside. I called my helper to provide some blankets to my little friend and her newly united family. I imagined their family’s little get together; a happy feeling to finally meet her and a heartache on seeing her present condition.

I filled the tub with lukewarm water and slipped in. Memories flooded over me, our days together as pre-university students; always being singled out for being talkative, always doing the most idiotic things to be imagined and the sweet plans of future. With a little smile over my face and happy dreams of a prospective future with all those dreams turning to reality, I drifted in a sweet sleep.

Sweet colors of happiness were filling my eyes and lighting my heart from all that loneliness I had subjected myself to for years.

The light had not yet filled my heart completely when it recoiled back into its previous, ominous darkness again with sound of a gun-shot. I sat up with a stir. It was real. I could feel the death looming in the air and could feel the grief encompassing my lonely heart.

I got up with a start and donned my gown hurriedly and rushed down the stairs as swiftly as I could. Not wanting to see what happened and still dreading to be late at my attendance.

I Bursted through the door to my laboratory and saw the dreadful scene of a unique love with my own eyes; the love can never be as bloody as was being portrayed in live in front of my eyes.

© Copyright 2018 Jinisha. All rights reserved.

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