Yeah...so...well, I wrote this after finishing Prototype 2. That ending made me sad! And from my sadness from Alex being consumed by Heller, my mind conjured...well...this. Enjoy!~

+EDIT-RE-EDIT+ ALLLLLRRIIIIIIGHT! So, I have just begun writing another PROTOTYPE fic. In a way, it will be a sort of continuation of this. However, it will begin BEFORE this fic. Eventually(not too long into it, no worries), this story will tie into it and from there on it will be a continuation. It will be including an OC of mine. Don't even bother if you dislike OCs. I'll probably toss in some sort of romantic subplot too. Don't worry about that. It won't be too much of a focus. Anyways, if any of you are interested PLEASE either leave a review or PM me. I'm not particular of how you message me. Just, if you would like me to post the chapters, I'd like notification. 5 notifications and I'll start posting the fic. Thank you!

The sky was dark. Bleak. A storm was just off the coast. It had been nearly 2 and half months since James Heller, who now stood atop a skyscraper watching the incoming storm, consumed Alex Mercer. 2 and half months. 2 and a half months since he thought that the world was rid of the virus once and for all. That's what Heller thought. That is what Heller believed. That...was where Heller was wrong.

'Hey. Heller.' And that voice inside Heller's head was where it started. That hauntingly familiar voice.

'Heller! Damnit, Heller, answer me!'

"No. No, you're not here. I consumed you. You're dead."

'Dead? Ha, that's real funny Heller. Real funny. You really think that I would be dead?Funny. I am the virus, Heller. The virus is alive. I am alive.'

"That can't be true." At this point, Heller was just denying it. He was lying to himself. Trying to convince himself that this wasn't happening. But it was. It was real. It was all real. And it was giving Heller a migraine. "You...You're just a...a hallucination...or something."

'Not good enough Heller. You know I'm alive, inside of you. You know I'm talking to you, inside your mind. Or are you trying to convince yourself that you're in need of psychiatric help?'

"What...Damnit...Wh-...What do you want?" Heller's hands were grasping his throbbing skull, his voice was contorted with frustration and pain. He crouched over, the headache excruciating.

'Nothing. I just want you to know that I never died. And really, I can't say I really like being inside of you.'

"What do you mean?"

'I am the virus, Heller. Remember? I can take the virus away. Just as easily as I infected you with it in the first place. I can take it all away. Cure you of it. In fact, that's what I intend to do.'

"Wh-" Heller never finished that. Instead, his hands went to his gut as he retched. The virus erupted from his back, tentacle-like protrusions thrashing as Heller yelled in pain. The matter that was the virus continued to thrash, progressively detaching, reforming, all of it leaving Heller's very being. Every cell, every molecule, every existing bit of matter. All of it leaving and condensing. After what seemed to Heller to be hours, it ended. Behind him, a pool of condensed viral matter lay, contorting itself to form words.

Heller still possessed an infection. It only remained in a basic, simplified version, but it was there. And as Heller utilized this minute amount of virus to parkour back down to the streets to blend in with the now once-again thriving population, he was incapable of erasing the image of that pool of viral matter, spelling out what he at that moment believed to be Mercer's last message to him.

I can't be killed, Heller.

A few days later, Alex Mercer stood yet again on the corner of a towering skyscraper, looking out at the polluted skyline and the choppers flying there. A devilish smirk stretched across his yet-again reformed face. He was back. He had returned. Alex Mercer wasn't going anywhere.

"I'll take down any military you bastards can send. Any biological weapon you create. I don't care. I can't be killed."

Reviews are loved! -"Akilina"