Chap#4
1446 Words
Drew was inches from success. The formula he had staked his soul on was nearly complete. With no lab, he crouched beside a quiet roadside, surrounded by stolen flasks and odd-smelling ingredients. He had dipped into dangerous methods—witchcraft, blood rituals, and black-market chemicals. There was no turning back.
But then, something went wrong.
The final drop sizzled, then burst into flames.
Tubes shattered in his hands. Smoke erupted. People screamed. Horns blared. The sky turned thick with black clouds. It looked like a bomb had gone off.
In minutes, fire trucks arrived. Police surrounded the area. News vans followed.
No one saw Drew escape through the smoke.
The next morning’s headline read:
Minor Chemical Fire. No Casualties. Misfire Suspected.
A few people said they saw a beggar run. Police didn’t care. “Probably just a homeless lunatic.”
But Drew knew the truth. He had failed again. And this time, there was no going back.
He wandered for days. Hungry, lost, invisible. He drank from public fountains. Slept under bridges. Stole bread. His skin darkened from sun and smoke. His soul felt even darker.
Then he saw it.
Welcome to City 48 – The Place Where Fire Never Stops.
Chimneys burned day and night. Factories spit smoke into the sky. The air smelled like ambition.
Drew’s heart beat faster. Where there’s fire, there’s science. Where there’s science, there’s hope.
But the city didn’t welcome him.
People passed like he didn’t exist. Eyes straight. Faces blank.
He tried speaking to a well-dressed man outside a black SUV.
“Excuse me, sir,” Drew said, voice low.
The man looked up. “Bonjour? Merci?”
“You speak French?” Drew asked.
“No,” the man replied, smirking. “I thought you were a dog.”
His driver laughed. “I thought he was a trash can.”
They shoved Drew aside and sped off.
He stood there, fists clenched, tears in his eyes.
I just want a chance. Why does the world hate me?
Once, he dreamed of love. Olivia. A future. He thought if he became someone, she’d return. But love wasn’t a currency he could earn.
Still, a voice inside whispered. Try again.
He sat on a bench, bones aching, breath short.
I’ll try again. But from where? I don’t even know who I am anymore.
A voice interrupted him.
“Pardon me, dear…”
He looked up to see an elderly woman.
He gave a bitter laugh. “Hit me again. Maybe then I’ll finally die.”
The woman frowned. “My name is Katherine. You?”
“Drew,” he muttered. “But nobody can help me. I’m past saving.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You never know. Stand up. Don’t sit like a broken man.”
He stood, barely able to balance. One of his feet was soaked in dried blood.
“Come home with me,” she said softly. “I live alone. No family. No husband. No children. Maybe fate brought you to me.”
He stared at her, suspicious.
“I’ve heard that before. People give me hope… and leave.”
“I won’t leave.”
Minutes later, Drew was behind the wheel of a luxury car. Fully tinted, smooth as silk.
He gaped at it. “This your car?”
“That creepy thing? Yes. Want to drive?”
He nodded, too stunned to speak.
They arrived at her mansion. It looked more like a palace.
“Park it outside. Not worth putting it in the garage,” she said casually.
Inside, gold-lined walls, glowing chandeliers, and food that filled every table.
“This is yours now,” she said. “Call this place home. Call me Mom.”
He blinked. “I don’t even know if this is real.”
She slapped him, gentle but firm.
“Not a dream. Accept it.”
Later that day, he visited the city again. Still in dirty clothes. But now, he walked into a mall and bought designer outfits, a diamond watch, and the newest phone.
People noticed.
“Boss, you look fresh!”
“Yo, you modeling or what?”
He smiled—but it didn’t feel real.
A few hours ago, those same people wouldn’t give him a glance when he begged for bread.
This wasn’t love. This was money. Just the illusion of respect.
He drove back. Speeding. Reckless.
By the time he reached the gate, a pile of speeding tickets was already there.
He stared at them.
Let’s get used to it. It’s not like I earned this anyway.
For the first time in months, he slept in comfort. Soft sheets. Warm food in his belly. No noise. No pain.
But his mind raced.
How does she have all this? Who is she, really?
He fell asleep late. And when he did, he dreamed of blood.
Katherine stood beside a dead man, her face cold and distant. The silence screamed louder than any noise.
Drew jolted awake. Soaked in sweat.
Maybe it’s just stress.
Next morning, the dining room glowed under morning light. Katherine smiled.
“Good morning, honey.”
He whispered, “Mom…”
She beamed. “I’m fine, son. You?”
He hesitated.
“How do you have so much money?”
She paused. Her eyes darkened. She gently set her knife on the table—just inches from his face.
“Never ask that again.”
He froze. “Okay. Sorry.”
Then she smiled again. Like nothing happened.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I’m working on something,” he said.
“A cure,” he lied. “For cancer.”
She tilted her head. “Are you a doctor?”
“Not exactly. I just know some things.”
She stood. “I’m going out. Will be back by evening.”
He explored the mansion after she left. He found a hallway filled with portraits.
Young men. His age. Standing beside Katherine. Same arm around the shoulder. Same background. Same smile.
Maybe they all left her. Maybe she’s just lonely.
Still, his gut twisted.
Far away, her car reached a secret tunnel. She changed the plates, passed a scanner, and entered an underground facility.
She peeled off her face. Literally. Latex mask gone, she looked 30 at most.
Inside, men waited. Some looked like scientists. Others like mercenaries.
“I’ve got him,” she said. “Drew. He’s desperate. Smart. Easy to trap. We’ll use him.”
A screen behind her showed Drew, eating cereal.
“He called me Mom. Poor idiot.”
That night, Drew approached her.
“Can I go to my hometown? Just for a day?”
She sipped tea. “Sure. But take the jeep. The other car needs repairs.”
“Thank you.”
She added, “If I had a real son, I’d never let him travel in daylight.”
He blinked. “But you said you never had a family?”
She looked down. “Just go. Be safe.”
He left early. The jeep was tinted, powerful. The road ahead looked calm.
But something felt wrong.
Then the speakers buzzed.
Stoppy… Stoppy… Louis…
“What the hell?” he whispered.
He pulled over. Got out. Walked to the back. Opened the boot.
A dead man fell onto the road.
His neck was cut. Blood had dried. A horrible smell filled the air.
Drew stepped back, horrified.
Then, from inside the trunk, a tied-up girl crawled into view.
He pulled off the tape.
“Who are you?”
She whispered, “He’s my husband. That woman… she killed him.”
Drew gasped. “Why?!”
“You’re lucky. You escaped her house. Few do.”
He asked, “Should I call the police?”
“No. They’ll jail you. I’ll say you did it. I’ll say you kidn*pped me. They’ll believe me. Because I look like the victim.”
Drew froze.
“But… how can you betray him?”
She smiled, cold and sharp.
“I’m not betraying anyone. I’m surviving.”
Then he noticed something.
The man on the ground—his chest rose.
He was alive.
Drew’s eyes burned.
Trap.
He turned to her.
“You chose the wrong person.”
He shoved her to the ground and jumped into the jeep. Slammed the gas. Tires screeched.
By 2 AM, he was outside his city. Rain poured. Wind howled.
He pulled to the side of a hill. Sat at a rusted bus stop. Alone. Soaked.
I’ll wait for sunrise. Maybe I’ll go see Olivia.
Or maybe I’ll disappear for good.
But deep down, something whispered again.
You didn’t escape.
You were let go.
- Writer
