• “My name is Eve, I took control of… Heather’s body,” the woman shifted her gaze to the dead people, then looked back at Amy, “but I’ll ask again, why aren’t you dead? Your cells… I can feel them changing, but I cant control them…” Eve’s hand touched Amy’s face, causing it to burst with heat. Amy to quickly drew back.
    Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, she asked, “What are you talking about? Cells? What’s going on? You made these people sick, didn’t you?!” The accusation didn’t seem to affect the woman’s calm demeanor, but it was obvious she was annoyed.
    “Once again, my name is Eve. Maybe I should explain so your small brain can understand. Heather is dead; she was in an accident not an hour ago, and I took over her body. I am her mitochondria,” she continued, “you see, each of us have mitochondria in our bodies, but only some are lucky enough to have theirs evolve,” She smiled, “and yes, I did kill these people. It was quite easy, not surprisingly.”
    Just as she finished her sentence, sirens sounded outside the theater. Eve’s face contorted slightly with anger, but then a calm expression came over her. She smiled to Amy, who was staring wide eyed too shocked to do anything, and walked calmly from the auditorium.
    Eve’s words were just sinking in to Amy’s mind when she heard voices outside from the EMPs. Swearing, she ran from the auditorium, being sure not to trip over the bodies littering the area. When she opened the door to the foyer, she gasped. Ten people at the least were splayed on the ground, dead. Lamps and papers were spread everywhere. It appeared that the people had struggled greatly before they had died. The goo that stained the ground made Amy realize these people died the same way that the other people had. It shined in the yellow light radiating from the chandeliers.
    “How did she…” unable to finish her words, she looked up and noticed the policemen and paremedics standing by the door. Their reaction was much the same as everyone else’s- shock, terror, and amazement. Some of them even fought back nausea.
    “My god…” the head policeman’s eyes were wide. He looked up as Amy walked toward them.
    “What… what happened?”
    “Everyone’s dead…” it finally began to hit her. Everyone, people with children, wives, husbands. They were all dead. She was the only one who was alive. Why, she thought. Me, one person out of several hundred… why?
    The policeman kneeled down by a corpse, examining the goo surrounding the body. “What is this stuff…?”
    “It’s um… ooze…”
    “What?”
    “Never mind…” she finally said, “but these people got sick,” her voice drifted off as she thought about their faces as they coughed themselves to death.
    Her thoughts were broken when the policeman sighed. A few paremedics lingered in the foyer, while others had entered the auditorium to hopefully find survivors.
    The policeman looked sympathetically at Amy.
    “You the only survivor?” he inquired.
    Looking down to avoid his strong gaze, she shook her head.
    “There was another woman,” she looked at him, then turned away slightly, facing the auditorium doors, “I think she did this. Her name was Hea-… erm… Eve.”
    The policeman, George (apparent by his name badge), cocked an eyebrow in wonderment.
    “Look, girl, I don’t think any one person could do this.”
    “Its true! She admitted it!”
    George shot her a deadly look, then his features calmed as he realized she was probably just shocked.
    “Were going to need to take you to the police station for questioning,” he mentioned after a couple of seconds. He had been allowing her to calm down.
    Sighing, she nodded.
    George touched her shoulder lightly, then motioned for her to follow him. He then led her to one of the police cars that were strewn about the parking lot. Amy forced a smile to him, then opened the door, hiked up her skirt to avoid getting it caught, then closed the door.
    “You okay back there?” Another policeman looked back at her.
    “Yeah,” she lied. What’s going on, I don’t understand anything. First, people start vomiting weird stuff, then they die. But why didn’t I get sick? Did it have anything to do with that weird woman I saw? Did she really cause this? I don’t see how, or why. What’s this about cells…
    So many questions ran through her head, but no one could solve them but herself. No one else knew what happened, not even the policemen. Even when she would tell them everything, would they believe her? Probably not.
    Hm, what if I found Eve again. She has to be somewhere, I’m sure she’s probably wandering around right now, planning to kill more people.
    She ran her fingers over the cold leather seat as she thought. Deciding then that she wasn’t fit to come to any kind of conclusions or plans, she looked out the window at the modern scenery of the city as it blurred by. The buildings in her city, San Francisco, were tall, but not in this part of town. The police station was placed near the outskirts, which allowed it to be moderatley secluded.
    Darkness began to cover the city. It’s probably 8:00 by now… she thought. Stars slowly brightened the sky with their clear beauty. The moon remained hidden behind large clouds. By the looks of them, Amy could tell it wanted to rain.
    Minutes later they arrived at the station. It was surprisingly small, but tidy on the outside. They made their way into the main lobby where a woman stood at the main desk across the room from where they stood. She appeared to be very busy with phone calls, probably from family members of the victims. The media probably arrived at the scene already, I’m glad we left when we did. They’d be asking numerous questions.
    The woman managed to look up quickly and halfheartedly smile in between conversations.
    “Okay,” the policeman led Amy past the desk where the woman was, and into a small secluded room. It was cramped with desks which were covered with crumpled paper. Files littered every surface and cabinet avalable. He led her past the first two desks and to a third, which seemed cleaner than its others.
    “Sit,” he gruffly commanded. Then he walked out of the room.
    After at least ten minutes of impatient waiting, a tall, lean woman entered the room and sat across from Amy. She then began vigourously writing in a notepad she had in her hand.
    “So,” she finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “my name is Brigit. Nice to meet you. But unfortunitly we have no time to swap pleasantries,” she continued, “tell me what happened by the time you left your car. Include any suspicious behavior you might have noticed as well.”