"My men will be here soon. Behave, if you want to stay alive," the man sneered.
The cage in the attic reeked of animal blood. She had to eat inside it; her clothes and skin were stained dark.
"You murdered my parents just to sell me!" the girl screamed, hammering her fists against the bars.
He smiled without humor. "Your parents knew you weren't normal the moment you were born — because I made you. I used your mother's womb to create an experiment: something to serve my superiors' purpose. They'll turn you into a weapon. All because you chose to be arrogant, like your parents.
Her face went ashen. The truth bit harder than she expected — her parents had given their lives to save her. Her mother had been with child, and still those men had shown no mercy: they murdered them and set their bodies ablaze.
Had this strange power been why she survived the fire?
Had it been why she could endure the daily torments?
None of that mattered to him. He had played the part of friend to her mother and brother to her father, all while hiding what he truly was.
He would pay. He would suffer the same fate he had dealt her parents.
And Divya — her best friend, his own daughter — what of her?
Divya had gone to her grandmother's with her mother. What if something happened…?
"KILL HIM," a voice hissed inside her head.
She realized she hadn't noticed when he left; he had been gone for some time.
Blurred by thought and rage, she made up her mind: she would decide his fate.
Footsteps creaked on the stairs. She froze, swallowing panic. No one would come for her — if she screamed, the world would likely call her a monster: the child who survived the blaze.
"Good girl," the man said, smiling as he turned to the guards. "I chained her arms and legs. Still — be cautious."
"We came prepared," the first guard replied, handing over a briefcase fat with cash.
"She's the only test subject who survived after your last failures. You may have exceeded the chairman's expectations."
Greed lit the man's face. He snapped the cage open while the men behind him drew a gun and trained it on her.
Her breaths came shallow and fast; every second stretched as her patience — and her will — were tested under their watch.
The girl stood up, her long black hair still uncut. With every step she took, the sound of chains clicked sharply. She kept her head bowed. Both her feet and hands were chained.
"Buzz— Walk a bit faster," the first guard said, pressing the stun baton strapped to his waist against her.
The girl grunted in pain and fell to her knees, a drop of blood spilling from her nose.
"We're in a hurry. The more you delay us, the sooner you'll die at this rate," the guard mocked.
"I hope you can handle this trash bag. I need to clean here before my family comes back next week," the man said to the first guard, glaring at the girl with disgust and hatred in his eyes.
The girl rose again, ignoring the pain surging through her body, and walked a little faster as they exited the attic.
They headed toward the kitchen to use the back exit, but the girl suddenly collapsed. Her breathing grew uneven, feral — like a wild animal.
The first guard reached for his stun baton again, but as he swung it down, the girl grabbed his foot.
The shock surged into both of them, stunning the guard long enough for her to move.
Before the others could react, she grabbed the first guard by the neck and twisted it, snapping it instantly.
His men opened fire, bullets tearing into the girl's body. Blood sprayed across the floor.
"Damn it—the girl is dead. And so is Chase," the second guard growled.
"The chairman won't be happy. We need to bring that crazy scientist and the girl's body with us," the third guard said, wrinkling his nose as a rotten stench seeped from the girl's corpse.
"I hope you bastards didn't kill her!" the man shouted as he rushed into the kitchen.
His face went pale at the horrific sight.
"You should have trained your bitch bett—" the second guard turned, but his words died in his throat. His fellow guard lay on the ground, drained of life, veins turned pitch-black.
The girl stood over him, absorbing his energy. Her wounds closed instantly, flesh knitting back together. Before the second guard could react, she grabbed his wrist and drained his life-force as well. His body collapsed with a thud.
The man tried to flee, but the girl seized his wrist in a brutal grip.
"Please—please forgive me! Spare me! I'll give you anything you want. I—I can make a cure for you!" the man begged, tears spilling down his face.
"Can you bring my parents back?" she asked softly. "Can I see my little sibling… my mom… my dad again? Can you do that?"
Her voice trembled, though her grip did not loosen. One of her eyes darkened, turning a deep crimson red.
"Chris—wait!!… remember Divya? She's like a little sister to you, right? Do you want to ruin the bond you two have by killing me? My family is nothing without me!" the man screamed, his veins darkening as the life drained from him.
The girl chuckled lightly, then smiled.
"Who is Chris?" she asked. Her voice shifted — layered, deeper, as if another person spoke through her.
She dragged his lifeless body and dumped it on top of the others.
The girl turned on the gas and lifted a lighter from the counter. She exited through the back door, keeping her distance as the house slowly filled with gas.
When she was far enough away, she flicked the lighter on and tossed it.
The explosion erupted instantly, engulfing the entire house in flame.
She turned to leave—but the sound that followed froze her in place.
"Chris!! Dad!!—" Divya screamed as she dropped her bags and ran toward the burning house.
"Divya! Wait!!" her mother cried, pulling her back desperately to keep her from the fire.
"Mom—we have to save them! They might still be alive!" Divya sobbed, her voice trembling, her whole body shaking. Her mother held her close and wept silently.
…Wasn't she supposed to be back next week?…
…Why now?!!…
The girl ran toward the forest, tears spilling down her cheeks.
To Divya, this day was supposed to be a surprise for Chris — a celebration of their friendship, exchanging gifts.
To the girl, this was the day she was finally meant to claim her freedom.
...
.....
[August 15, 3111]
The forest swallowed her whole. For two weeks she moved without rest, driven by a fear she could not name and a power she could not control.
She drank from rivers, slept in abandoned barns, and hid in drainage tunnels whenever she heard engines or voices nearby.
Every night, she woke trembling.
Every morning, she wondered if she was still human.
Her body was changing.
Sometimes her veins darkened on their own.
Sometimes her vision sharpened too much.
Sometimes she heard voices—her voice, but not hers.
Who is Chris…?
The name echoed through her head, a stranger living in her mind.
Her chains had broken during the escape, but the scars around her wrists still burned.
Sometimes they glowed faintly in the dark, pulsing like a heartbeat that wasn't hers.
Food grew scarce.
Her legs became weak. Her chest ached where bullets once tore through.
After fourteen days of constant running, her body finally gave in.
She staggered out of the forest and onto a quiet, curving road as rain poured heavily from the sky.
Headlights blazed.
A car skidded.
And before she could move—
THUD.
Pain exploded through her body.
The world went black.
When she opened her eyes.
A sterile scent filled her nose.
The ceiling above her was glass, reflecting soft white light.
She lay on a leather couch, covered with a blanket far too expensive for someone like her.
A man sat across the room, watching her carefully.
Mid-40s.
Sharp suit.
Sharp eyes.
Sharp smile.
The kind of man who never heard the word "no."
"Good. You're awake," he said, closing his laptop. "You ran in front of my car. I almost thought I killed you."
She tried to sit up, but her muscles burned in agony.
He raised a hand calmly. "Easy. Your body's trying to heal itself. Fascinating trait, by the way."
Her breath hitched.
He had seen it.
Her power.
He approached slowly, cautious but curious—like someone approaching a wild animal.
"You're not normal," he said, voice smooth. "But you already know that. And I… might be able to help."
The girl responded with silence.
"I had your blood analyzed."
Her heart froze.
He leaned closer, a smile curling on his lips.
"I can cure you. Make you normal again."
Her eyes narrowed.
"But…" he added softly, "I need something in return."
"Why… would you help me?" she asked.
He paused… then told the truth.
"Because if I cure you, you'll be the only one of your kind. Strong. Controlled."
His eyes darkened with desire—not romantic, but hungry.
"And you will belong to me."
She flinched.
He lifted his hand gently, brushing hair from her face. The softness of the gesture clashed with the coldness in his eyes.
"You survived a fall that should have broken your spine. You heal faster than science allows. You killed a man with your bare hands."
He tilted her chin up lightly.
"And I saw your wounds close in seconds."
She swallowed hard, remembering the guard — remembering how her power took over, unstoppable.
"You're dangerous," he whispered.
"But only because no one taught you control."
He smiled in a way that made her ribs tighten.
"I will."
She jerked her face away, breath shaking.
"I'm not… yours."
"Oh," he said softly, almost amused.
"You will be. Once I remove the chaos from your blood… you'll see. I'm the only one who can save you."
He turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"And one more thing," he added, voice gentle but dripping with warning.
"Don't try to run. My estate is surrounded by a security system designed to contain creatures far more dangerous than you."
The door locked behind him.
The girl curled her knees to her chest, trembling.
For two weeks she escaped hunters, bullets, and death itself.
But this—
this felt like the beginning of a new nightmare.
The next morning, the billionaire escorted her into a room that didn't look like it belonged in a mansion.
It looked like a laboratory disguised as luxury.
White floors. Glass walls. Soft lighting.
And in the center — a reinforced platform surrounded by scanning devices.
"Stand there," he said gently, as if talking to a scared pet.
She didn't move.
He smiled, not angry… almost pleased.
"You still think you have a choice."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"But the serum inside you—"
He tapped a tablet, and instantly her veins lit up faint blue.
She gasped, clutching her arm.
"That reaction," he explained calmly.
"means your body is reaching stage three. If you don't get treatment…"
He lifted her chin.
"You'll lose your mind within months."
Fear crawled up her spine.
"Let me help you," he whispered.
"All you need to do is trust me."
His voice wrapped around her like warm silk — soft, soothing, persuasive.
Too perfect.
She felt her thoughts blur.
Was he right?
Was he actually trying to cure her?
Was he… being kind?
But then she caught the faintest flicker of triumph in his eyes, and clarity snapped back.
He wasn't comforting her
He was conditioning her.
Training her to need him.
She clenched her fists.
"Stop trying to control me."
He chuckled softly.
"I don't have to control you. Your body will do it for me."
He stepped back and activated a holographic projection.
"Lesson one: emotional regulation."
Suddenly, a metal drone dropped from the ceiling — its arms armed with shock rods.
Before she could react, it lunged.
A bolt of electricity tore through her ribs. She screamed and collapsed to her knees.
She smelled burning flesh… her own.
Her vision flickered, and the serum ignited in her veins like fire.
He watched her with fascination — not fear.
"This is what happens when your emotions spike. Your power becomes unstable."
Again the drone attacked.
She dodged this time, barely, stumbling across the floor.
"Faster," he said calmly.
"If you want to live."
The drone raised its rods again—
and she snapped.
With a burst of strength, she grabbed the metal arm and crushed it with a single twist.
Sparks flew.
The drone collapsed.
Her breath was heavy, feral, animal-like.
The billionaire clapped once.
"Beautiful."
His eyes lit up, dark and hungry.
"Now you see why you need me. Without training, you destroy everything you touch."
She glared at him.
"Let me go."
He stepped closer, studying her face, her trembling hands, her glowing veins.
"I can't."
"Why?"
His answer was soft… but deadly.
"Because you're the only one who survived that serum. And if I cure you…"
He reached out, brushing her cheek with cold fingers.
"you will become something priceless.
A weapon that I — and only I — can control."
She slapped his hand away.
For the first time, he didn't smile.
"Defiant," he whispered.
"Good. It means your will is strong."
He pressed a button, and the floor beneath her shifted — turning into a containment field.
"But remember… even the strongest will breaks."
The glass doors locked.
The lights dimmed..
And the girl realized:
She had escaped cages, bullets, fire, and death.
But she had finally met the enemy
who wouldn't kill her…
He would shape her.
The next few days were a blur of pain.
The billionaire never raised his voice.
He didn't need to.
Every command was delivered with soft patience, every punishment with clinical precision — as if he was correcting a machine, not a human.
And still… he used kindness like a blade.
"You're improving," he would say, offering her water after a brutal session.
"You're safe as long as you listen."
"You're special — too special to let the world ruin you."
His gentle tone seeped into her thoughts like warm honey, confusing her, twisting her.
She hated him.
She feared him.
But the way he spoke…
part of her almost wanted to believe him.
Almost.
On the fourth night, she tried to escape.
She waited until the security lights dimmed, then used the strength in her mutated muscles to pry open a maintenance vent. Her bones cracked under the strain, but she didn't care.
She crawled through the cold metal tunnel, heart pounding in her throat—
almost tasting the freedom outside.
But the moment she dropped into the courtyard—
searchlights exploded to life.
Alarms screamed.
And a voice echoed through the speakers.
"Come back inside," the billionaire said softly.
"Before someone gets hurt."
She didn't listen.
She ran.
Faster.
Harder.
Through the trees, her bare feet tearing on branches and stone.
She saw the estate wall — high, but climbable.
She jumped.
Her fingers caught the edge—
just as a spotlight snapped onto her.
"Stop!" someone yelled behind her.
The voice wasn't his.
It belonged to a guard.
One she had seen before.
A young man… barely older than her.
He wasn't cruel like the others. He had once slipped extra food onto her tray when he thought no one would notice.
"Don't go over!" he shouted.
"Please — he'll activate the defense—"
A gunshot split the night.
The boy froze — shocked — then collapsed to his knees, a blooming red stain spreading across his chest.
He stared at his hands, trembling, confused, afraid…
And then he stopped moving.
The girl's breath shattered.
He didn't shoot her.
He shot him — the boy who tried to warn her.
Slowly, she turned.
The billionaire stepped through the gate, gun still smoking, expression eerily calm.
"You ran," he said.
"You refused training."
His voice lowered, soft enough to be almost tender.
"And now look what you made me do."
Her blood went cold.
He wasn't angry.
He was disappointed.
"I didn't want to hurt him," he sighed, shaking his head.
"But you force my hand when you disobey."
Her eyes burned with tears and hatred.
"You killed him," she whispered.
He walked toward her, unhurried.
"No," he said gently, cupping her cheek with the hand that had just fired the gun.
"I corrected your mistake. You ran. He interfered. Cause and effect."
She slapped his hand away so hard her palm stung.
His expression finally changed.
Something darker.
Something hungry.
"Oh," he murmured, voice shifting into a dangerous whisper.
"You're finally learning."
Hands shaking, she backed against the wall.
"Take one more step," she warned.
"I'll kill you."
He smiled.
A slow, patient, terrifying smile.
"Then you better get stronger," he whispered.
"because I'm not dying for you."
His fingers brushed a small device on his wrist.
The shock collar around her neck lit up—
white-hot electricity exploding down her spine.
She screamed.
The world burned white.
Her body collapsed.
Her consciousness shattered.
And the last thing she heard before darkness swallowed her was his voice:
"Don't run again, my star.
You're mine to perfect."