The Weight

I've dreamt about it a few times, knocking him out when he was most vulnerable and not paying attention. It was almost too easy, as Zillah lay there in a daze, and the Professor stunned from the spell he just cast. I hit him over his head with his own case, and it instantly brought him to the floor.

I stepped to my lover, still laying on the surgical table, traced his face gently, and overode the Professor's touch with a kiss of my own. Looking back down at the barely breathing body of the Professor, I sighed and cast a spell that would help me drag him out of the Warehouse.

The London fog was in my favor, as it hid the awkward sight of me lugging him along, and the scratchy drag of his dead weight on the cobblestones. He went over the edge of the docks easily, welcoming the cold waves with an outreached embrace. I watched for a moment, making sure the current took him til he was a speck, and turned back toward the warehouse.


Zillah must never know of this. He would never understand.

Good riddance, Professor.


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