Two pairs of eyes stare back at me, making me freeze.
Who are they?
One is grey like ash, unmoved and unblinking. The other gleams gold, not with warmth, but with hunger.
My last memory is of lying on my bed, watching a Chinese short drama.
I don't recognise them. I was unsure about my location. I have no clue who I am in this life.
"The vessel has awakened," says the grey-eyed one. His voice is flat, like stone scraping against stone.
"Proceed to the next part of the experiment." The gold-eyed one commands.
Experiment?
The word echoes inside my head like a curse.
It's not the "experiment" that I'm thinking of, right?
I try to move, but my limbs don't respond. My body feels foreign—too small, too weak, too broken. I blink, once, twice.
Shit…
A cold metal clamp digs into my wrist. I try to lift my arm, but it won't move. My fingers twitch—barely. My legs are worse.
Numb. Thin. Like twigs soaked in ice.
I am not just weak.
I was small. Too small…
My last memory was soft. A blanket. A screen glowing with a Chinese short drama. A quiet night accompanied by my cat.
Now I was here.
Strapped down. Cold and alone with these people.
Thinking about my situation right now, my eyes started to sting.
"Sob… Sob…" It isn't loud enough to echo. It isn't strong enough to matter. But it's mine.
"Damn kid. Stop crying!" The voice snaps like a whip. The gold-eyed man steps forward, his boots clicking against the stone floor like a countdown.
I flinch, the sound slicing through the fog in my head. My breath hitches. The sobs die in my throat, strangled by fear.
"You think crying will help?" He says, voice low and cruel.
"You're not a child. You're a vessel. A tool. And tools don't cry."
"Stop. He is just four years old. What do you expect?" A man wearing a lab coat walks towards them.
Four?
That number clings to me like frost. I don't feel like a four-year-old kid. My body is too small, too fragile, too alien. My memories don't match. My thoughts don't fit.
I am not supposed to be here.
The man in the lab coat stops beside me. His eyes flick over my body, searching for something.
He doesn't look at me like I am a child. He looks at me as if I were an object to be admired.
"I think he is ready for the next part of the experiment." The ash-greyed man says, breaking the silence.
"It's your time to shine, L." The gold-eyed shine brightly, hearing it's time for him to experiment on me.
L steps forward, slow and deliberate, like a performer approaching the stage. His fingers twitch at his sides, eager to start.
"Hold him tightly while I'm carving a seal on his back."
The words send a chill down my spine.
They don't flinch. They don't hesitate. To them, this is routine. Just another step in the process. Another mark on another body.
Hands grip my shoulders, firm and unyielding. I thrash instinctively, but my limbs are too weak, too numb. The restraints bite into my skin. My breath comes in short, panicked bursts.
No. Please.
L lifts the carving tool—thin, metallic, humming faintly with energy. The tip glows with a cruel light, like it's already tasted pain.
Someone. Please.
I feel the first touch.
Save me.
The tool presses into my back, and the sigil begins to take shape—lines and curves that burn as they form, like fire threading through my spine. My body arches and my mouth opens.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" The scream rips through me.
It hurts. It's so damn hurt like a hot iron piercing my back but deeper.
The pain doesn't stay on the surface. It coils inward, wrapping around my ribs, my lungs, my heart. Every breath is a blade. Every second stretches like eternity.
I thrash, but the restraints hold. My fingers twitch. My vision blurs. I taste copper in my mouth and the taste thickens. My throat start to tightens. My body convulses again, harder this time.
"Just a little bit more. K, after I'm done, it's your turn." L continues carving, his hand steady, his voice drips with ecstasy.
"Sob… Sob…" My tears surge down the cheeks unnoticed. They fall onto the metal beneath me, mixing with sweat and blood and the glow of the sigil that's still burning into my back.
Slap!
The slap echoes louder than my scream ever did.
My head jerks sideways. The sting blooms across my cheek, sharp and immediate, cutting through the fog of pain like a knife.
"K, you can inject him with dead mana now." L lifts his hand from my body, fingers hovering just above the scorched skin like a painter admiring his final stroke.
K steps forward, silent. The syringe in his hand gleams with a sickly violet hue, the liquid inside swirling like corrupted light.
Dead mana.
I don't know what it is, but my body does. Every cell recoils. My breath stutters.
I frantically shake my head and desperately trying to break free. However, my limbs jerk against the restraints.
No… No… Please…
K doesn't stop. His steps are slow, deliberate. The syringe glints under the flickering lab lights, casting shadows that dance like spectres across the walls.
"Be a good boy." K leans in and grips my arms tightly. The syringe hovers inches from my skin.
"No…" My voice cracks, barely audible beneath the hum of the lab.
"Inject him." The lab coat man's voice slices through the room.
K doesn't hesitate. The needle pierces my skin and the dead mana floods in.
The moment it enters, the sigil on my back screams. Not with sound, but with light. It pulses violently, rejecting the corruption, flaring white, gold and red.
I feel like there is thousand spiders crawl beneath my skin, their legs scraping through muscle and bone, all racing toward the sigil carved into my back. The burning pain and yet I am freezing.
Slowly my consciousness slipping through my eyes.
"It's a failure for today." The lab coat man turns around and preparing to leave.
"Well, he is still breathing. We can play with him more tomorrow." L grins, imagining what kind of experiment he can do with this tool.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Half a year later…
"Dush!" A bucket of cold-water crashes over me and waking me up.
I gasp, choking on the cold. My body jerks, twitching against the restraints. The sting of the water slices through the fog in my head. The cold-water drips from my hair, dragging me back from the edge of unconsciousness.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. It's time to play." L laugh out loud. He steps closer, his grin wide, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Before that, let me unlock your restraints. Its not fun if you stay still." The restraints click open one by one. My arms fall limp at my sides. My legs barely respond. I'm free, but not functional.
L crouches in front of me, his grin stretching too wide.
"You'll learn faster if you move. Crawl."
I don't want.
"Crawl, you wimp."
I don't move. Not because I cant but because I refuse.
"You think silence makes you strong?" L's grin falters. Just slightly.
I stare back at him.
"Hmm… Then, how about this." L voices low with a hint of venomous.
"I will put a leash on you." He raises his hand and mutters a mantra. The air thickens. A shimmer coils around his fingers, twisting into shape.
A leash.
"Since you won't crawl, I'll drag you." He steps forward, holding it like a trophy.
I try to run.
Not with strength, but with instinct. My limbs scream, barely responding. I stumble forward, knees buckling, hands scraping against the cold stone floor.
L laughs behind me, slow and cruel.
The leash slithers through the air like a serpent, glowing faintly with a sickly light. I hear it before I feel it—snap—the sound of leather slicing through space.
Then it wraps around my neck. Tight. Too tight.
I choke, fingers clawing at the band, nails scraping uselessly. My breath stutters. My legs collapse. The floor rushes up to meet me.
L yanks the leash, dragging me backward like a sack of meat. My skin burns against the stone. My body jerks with every pull.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" L's laughter echoes off the stone walls, jagged and wild, like broken glass tumbling down a stairwell. It's not joy. It's hunger. The kind that feeds on suffering.
"You crawl better when you're choking," L sneers, yanking the leash again. My body jerks, pain flaring down my spine.
I want to scream.
But my voice is buried beneath the weight of the collar, the ache in my chest, the fire in my back.
I want to go back.
L crouches beside me, his breath hot and sour against my cheek.
"Still dreaming of escape?" He whispers.
"You're mine now. You belong to this hell."