She left off the lights off in the house. Sitting on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs, she twiddled her thumbs together innocently. It hurt to do, the palms of her hands red and scarred with burn wounds. Tears ran down her face, dropping onto her stinging, raw skin. Her shoulders rose and fell with ragged sobs. In the other room she finally got the baby to stop sleeping.
Sitting across from her was a man dressed in all black. From his feet to his head, the only difference was the porcelain white skin and bright, beaming smile he had. His teeth were perfect. He was wearing a black bowler hat, and looked like he belonged a couple centuries before. There was a cane lying across his lap.
“S-sid.” She managed to choke out.
“June,” He cooed. “Just remember you came to me.”
She looked up at him, eyes red and puffy from all the crying. In the kitchen, the clock was ticking. “Please…”
“Well we’ve got a little bit of a problem here, and it’s sitting in the other room.” His smile was radiant.
“Isn’t there another way?”
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Afraid not. It’s better than the alternative.”
June was shaking, squeezing her burnt hands together. “How long do we have?” She said.
“Until your husband comes home, or until the kid dies?”
“My son.” She managed to force out.
Sid pulled his wristwatch up to his face. “Hm, maybe a couple of weeks. A month if you’re lucky. It’s remarkable he’s lasted this long already.”
“And you can,” She swallowed. “You can save him?”
“I can keep him alive. But when he turns eighteen it might manifest itself again.”
“That’s so young.”
“Older than what he’ll face now.”
“Will he,” She started fidgeting again. “Will he die when he turns eighteen?”
Sid shrugged. “I don’t know. There are a lot of variables.”
“How likely?” She leaned forward. Her face was dry with tears.
“I’d say he’s got a fifty fifty chance, as he is now.”
“Those aren’t great odds.” She mumbled.
Sid held his smile. “You’re correct. They aren’t.”
June glanced over his shoulder, looking to the room where she put her son a few minutes prior. He already burnt her hands multiple times, and it would only get worse. She was biting her lip, and blood started oozing out. It was barely noticeable until she started to taste iron in her mouth. She bit harder.
“We don’t have much time left. I’m a busy, busy man,” Sid said. “So you’ve got to make a decision now.” Reaching into his suit, he produced a black handgun. He placed it on the table and slid it over to June.
Her heart skipped a few beats looking at the weapon. “Is it loaded?” She asked.
“Only one bullet. It’s all you’ll need.”
Reaching over, she pulled it up off the table. The grip was cool against her damaged hands. They were shaking, and the barrel was wobbling back and forth. She looked up at Sid, who was still smiling at her.
“This is the only way?”
“The only way.” He said. In the other room the baby started crying again, and she jerked in her seat, startled by the noise. It would only get worse over the few weeks. He would only burn her more and more. Already the temperature in the house was rising. She was sniffling again. The baby got louder.
She put the gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.