I was still seated near the ice cream shop, alone. My back rested against the wall, the street metal bench cold against my back, grounding me in a way nothing else did. My eyes were half-lidded, breath slow and quiet, my chest rising and falling so faintly I might have been asleep with my eyes open. The sweet scent of the ice cream still lingered in the air, but it felt far away, already fading like a memory I had borrowed from someone else.
A black van rolled up without a sound. Its wheels hummed low, gliding almost noiselessly over the street as though it wasn't meant to be heard. The driver didn't step out. Instead, the back door creaked open, the sound sharp and groaning against the city's noise. A man in black stepped down, his long coat brushing his boots with every movement. The soft thud of his steps should have been ordinary, but they were too measured, too smooth, each one deliberate in a way that made the air feel unnatural.
I blinked up at him, confusion flickering in my gaze. Why is this man standing in my face? Is he one of my watchers? Is he here to tell me I should be home by now?
I began to explain myself, but before I could utter a word, something fast and cold pricked the side of my neck from the right. A sharp sting and a flood of cold fire spread instantly under my skin. I moved my hand and pulled out something metallic, long and thin, like a sewing needle gleaming faintly in the dark and sharp enough to pierce anything
A tranquilizer.
I barely had time to process before three more darts whistled through the air and struck into my neck and shoulder. My limbs stiffened at once, numbness rushing outward like fire, hot at first, then hollowing me out until I could no longer command my body. My muscles betrayed me, my strength dissolved.
The street around me carried on alive with chatter, footsteps, and laughter, but no one noticed what was happening in the shadowed corner where I sat collapsing. But even if they did, no one would've cared.
The driver finally climbed out, his face shaded beneath the brim of his cap, his steps brisk. Together they lifted me as though I weighed nothing at all. My skin registered every touch, every shift of their grip, every scrape of boot against concrete. My ears caught everything; the jingle of keys, the creak of leather, the faint rasp of breath. I could hear and feel faintly but I couldn't move.
The van's doors slammed shut with a heavy clang, the sound echoing like a gate closing on iron bars. Darkness wrapped around me as the engine growled low, steady.
The van moved fast, each turn sharper, quieter, carrying me deeper into silence, farther and farther away from the living parts of the city. My vision swayed with each lurch, the last lights of Elaria flickering past, swallowed by night.
It rolled to a stop in front of a building that was neither hospital nor factory, but something in between a facility and a prison that looked too clean to be abandoned and too rusted to be trusted. The windows were narrow slits, like eyes that only ever looked inward, the walls streaked with rust that ran like veins. The gate groaned open, the scrape of chains dragging across stone, then shut again, sealing the world outside away.
They dragged me through tiled halls, my shoes scraping against the floor, the sound echoing back at me like a reminder that I wasn't walking of my own will. The air was cold, the tiles beneath their boots cracked and stained.
Overhead, the lights buzzed faintly, some flickering, their glow pale and sickly. Each echo felt heavier than the last until they finally threw me into a cell like discarded luggage.
My head buzzed with every blink, my vision shifting between clarity and blur, shapes bending into one another. The cell smelled of rust and old sweat, the stench of too many bodies that had been here before me.
Then I heard something. A sudden sharp echo of footsteps down the hallway, each one firm and deliberate, reverberating through the empty air.
A man appeared, built like a soldier; tall, broad-shouldered, his frame carrying weight even in the stillness. His shoes were polished, catching the faint flicker of the overhead light. Black trousers slightly fit, and a green shirt with the buttons half open stretched across his chest. His pace was steady, each step placed with such precision it was like punctuation on a sentence that carried no wasted words. He was one of the men who drove me to this place.
He stopped outside my cell. Then his phone rang with a ringtone that buzzed harshly, breaking the silence, rattling against my eardrums. He raised the phone and answered in a voice that rumbled deep, heavy, like a bear's growl.
"Hello," he said.
"Yeah, it'll only take three days. That is its standard duration."
The voice on the other end was muffled, blurred, impossible to make out but I was still able to pick up a piece. The voice called him Saelrix many times.
He nodded once, his jaw tightening.
"Yeah. I hope this idiot of a doctor you hired will do his job properly. My task here is finished. I'm leaving soon."
He ended the call with a sharp snap of his fingers, the sound echoing like the crack of a whip and stepped into the cell carrying something small and metallic in his hand. He paused, staring at me, as if questioning whether I was worth the effort it had taken to bring me here. Then, with a single motion, he pressed it against my neck.
Click.
A cold metal clamped tight against my skin, the lock hissing into place. A small light blinked green, then turned red, it didn't change again.
Without a word, he turned and walked away. His voice carried faintly down the hallway, low and heavy, fading but certain.
"Well, I hope this really works."
---
Grandma finally reached the ice cream shop where she had left me, but I wasn't there. Her golden eyes scanned every face, every alley, sharp and unyielding. Nothing escaped her sight, but she never caught my glimpse.
Clara, still in her cat form leapt from her shoulder, tail twitching, nose pressed to the air. She sniffed once, twice, then froze. Her fur bristled, her ears flattened, her voice faltering.
"I… I can't sense him, Mistress Elunara."
Grandma's stomach twisted, but her face remained composed. She knew I wouldn't have wandered off, not in a city I barely understood.
She searched longer than she dared admit, her steps carrying her further down alleys and side streets, but every corner was empty. At last, she turned back home, telling herself a lie she knew even as she thought it; that maybe I had returned.
But when she arrived home… even Van was gone.
She stood still, the weight of it settling into her chest. Her thoughts raced, clawing for sense, for logic, forcing her to believe we had simply gone out together. But the unease dug deeper, sharper, until it gnawed like teeth against her.
---
The next day dawned. She stood by the window, arms folded tightly across her chest, her hair shifting with the cold wind slipping through the slight opening. Her golden eyes scanned the city, but nothing had changed.
This was my first time in three years walking freely in Elaria. There was no way I would vanish overnight, not like a man who had gone to visit old friends. And worse, Clara still couldn't feel my presence.
---
In the depths of the shadowed building, I woke up on a cold floor. My memories were scattered shards, cutting into me whenever I tried to piece them together. My head pounded with leftover fog, my vision swam in and out of clarity. My shirt was gone, and something heavy clung to my neck, 'a collar.' Its weight pressed down on me, pulsing like it was draining me with every breath.
Empty cells lined the walls around me like open mouths, the light flicking from cracked bulbs overhead, their glow jittering across rusted bars and damp stone. The air smelled of bleach, iron, and decay, as though this place had once been scrubbed clean but could never rid itself of what had been done here.
My limbs barely responded when I tried to move.
Then soft footsteps echoed down the hallway.
A chubby man waddled closer, his white lab coat crumpled and streaked, his round glasses tracing his eyes, catching the dim glow. He wore a grin that stretched wide as he stopped at my bars, his fingers tapping the cold metal.
"Well… well… what do we have here?" His voice quivered with glee. "A perfect subject I can call special. Finally, I've waited so long for something like you… something alive, unpredictable and full of secrets." He giggled, but it was so high-pitched, sharp like glass shattering.
"Do you know what this means? Real discovery; no dusty books, no dull theories. You are my specimen, I'll peel back every layer of you. I want to see what makes you burn, I want to see what makes you so special, why everyone is obsessed with you. We might be able to create some techniques from you." He let out a ripping yet sniffled giggle.
What is he going on about? Is he really sure he wants to see what makes me burn?
His head tilted as he studied me, his grin twitching. "You have no idea how much fun we're going to have. Oh, the things I'll learn…"
Good luck on your research. You might need it. I'm used to this kind of stuff anyway.
I wished I could tell him that to his face, but the truth was I couldn't deny that I needed those words too. They burned in me, heavy and bitter, and yet my lips wouldn't move.
I lifted my head slowly, fear scraping at my chest. But it wasn't only fear, it was memory. I had lived this before; caged, tested on, treated like an animal and far worse.
---
The two men who drugged me in from the van entered the cell. Their movements were brisk and wordless. They weren't scientists, but their hands were steady, practiced. They lifted me easily, dragging me through the hallway again then into a room so white it seared my eyes.
The air froze in my lungs. This room—
It was the same design as the White Unit facility.
The memories of my days there began to flicker in my mind, and panic forced its way through me. No… not this again, not the White Unit. Please, I don't want to be here.
They strapped me face-down onto a cold metal table with nothing beneath. My forehead pressed against it, my wrists and ankles locked tight, metal biting against bone. My head still rang, my body weak. I couldn't resist.
Three more men entered, their coats clean, their masks blank, their eyes cold as glass. They carried sharp metallic tools, their edges gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Tools meant for animals, not people.
"How long do you think it'll take?" one asked.
The chubby man giggled, jittery, eagerly.
"As long as it needs. It all depends on our speed, but want every detail. Let's hurry."
They didn't explain, or warn and just began, steel biting flesh, cold and brutal. My back split under the blade, no gentleness in their hands. They weren't cutting to heal or take samples. They were peeling off, tearing, trying to rip the seal mark from me, to uncover whatever lay beneath the skin.
---
Far beneath, beyond the reach of their hands, beyond flesh and physical space, something whose presence itself was fear, stirred. Chains burned black-red, flames curled and folded across its black-stripped body, only its horns curved like blades clear in the haze, and each cut on my back rippled through its slumber.
Then its massive eyes snapped open, glowing crimson.
The scalpel faltered as my skin hardened, but they didn't stop. They instead switched to hammers, pounding my back like wood on a carving block. No anesthetic injections, just cruelty unrelenting
Then came the sound of something unnatural.
A bellow, monstrous and guttural. Mrrrraaaahhhh! The roar tore through the divide, deep and raw, like a bull in pain, yet older, darker, more furious than anything human.
And I too screamed with it. My irises flickered crimson, my voice no longer mine but something deeper tearing through my throat, a voice laced with rage, fire, and ancient fury.
The ground shook, the ceiling began to fall, the men staggered but never stopped, obsession driving them on.
Then a pulse erupted from my spine.
BOOM!
The shockwave hurled them against the walls; bones cracked, blood sprayed from mouths, windows shattered, doors flew away. And those four men dropped where they stood and never rose again.
My back dripped with blood, strips of skin hanging loose like torn parchment.
The pulse kept growing, each wave leaving damage; walls split, the ceilings collapsed. Until the entire place folded in on itself, burying me beneath rubble.
This wasn't the first time nor the second. But this time the creature's voice was louder, clearer. And I could feel it pressing closer, waiting for its chance to come out.