Terminal

Exploded stars decorated the horizon with blazes of purple and neon colours. No one knew what happened outside of the planet, why the stars had erupted by themselves, why the planets decided to drift some place else, and why the moon has never appeared since the day Terminal seized its first victim. Four years of Terminal and still no one had accurate data of where it derived from and what the disease actually did to you.

“Arm out.” The doctor said, attired in a blue gown and a mask tightly protecting her face.

“But I’m not sick. I don’t have the disease.” The boy tempted, his eyes glowing with blue. His features were sharp for a child, something that struck the doctor as stimulating.

“Everyone is required to take the test. Now give me your arm.” The doctor commanded, and hesitantly, the boy followed. His bare arm stung at the touch of alcohol, the bitter smell provoking him.

“But if I know I don’t have the disease why should I take the test?” He asked as the needle jerked into his skin and swallowed up his blood.

“It’s precautionary, we wouldn’t want Terminal spreading even more.” The doctor stated, pulling the injection out and pouring the red liquid into a beaker as she had done many times before.

“What is it?”

“Terminal?” He nodded and her eyes drew away from the sight of the boy’s eyes. They were so bright and blue, he was the only patient she had seen who looked alive. “Terminal is a disease that takes away what makes you human. Once it consumes you, it begins to steal your senses, your sight and smell for example. It also takes away your faculties- the ability to walk, move, speak. But they’re only the minor traits of the disease. Terminal is like a cancer- doesn’t go away, no proper treatment- and it slowly destroys all your working organs.” She blinks a million of times when she realises she had said enough to the poor child, but the boy breaks the silence with his eager to know more.

“Well why don’t you try looking for a cure?” His blood was now trapped in a glass case behind miniature metal chambers as if it had the mind to escape.

She almost wanted to laugh hearing such things from the boy. “It’s not that easy,” was all she could say.

“What are you doing with my blood?” He questions once more, raising his chin to see over the counter.

The doctor took a deep breathe. It was unusual for her to have talked with a patient, preferably she liked to get the job done without knowing anything about them. It was easier that way, less pain and less people to care about. “Do you see the light inside the machine?” He nodded. It was pure white, reflecting on his blood as the heat triggered the liquid to bubble. “This machine looks at your blood to find out if you have Terminal or not. The light will change to yellow if you don’t have the disease but if it turns-” the doctor breaks off and along with her harsh breathing, she knocks over the glass beakers with a shatter.

The boy stares worrisomely at the doctor whilst her hands searched the wall for something. “What’s wrong?”

The doctor could only stare back with her mouth wide open and a chain inside her throat to stop her from screaming. It was only when she said, “I’m sorry,” did her hand finally locate the button on the wall.

With one click, a rush of soldiers wearing black woollen masks, lunged into the room. The boy screamed piercingly as the soldiers proceeded towards him and hauled him across the floor from his arms.It didn’t take long for the soldiers to heave him out of the room, shut the door, and all whilst the little boy screamed. Even as the door pressed shut and he was half way through the cor- ridor, he still caught a glimpse of the red light glowing from underneath the door as if it were laughing at him.