The Host

Chapter Five

They came for her again.

Two guards, blank-faced and silent, stood at her cell door before she could finish her meal. No words, no explanations — only the cold click of cuffs locking around her wrists and the firm grip on her elbow as they escorted her through the corridor.

But this time… the route was different.

Instead of the usual sterile hallway toward the observation chamber, they turned left into a part of the facility she hadn’t seen before — darker, colder. The air felt heavier here, thick with chemicals and something else.

Something metallic.

Blood.

The sound reached her first — a strangled gasp, followed by a muffled groan. Then she heard voices.

“Slice again. Deeper this time.”

A scream echoed through the corridor.

Alina’s steps faltered. The guards didn’t slow.

As they rounded the corner, she caught a glimpse through a half-open door — a wide, windowed lab filled with bright operating lights and a large glass chamber in the center.

Inside the chamber was a man — shirtless, strapped to a vertical steel slab, his chest bleeding from deep gashes. But his skin was knitting itself back together, muscle threads reconnecting, flesh pulling inward like a time-lapse of nature reversing destruction.

“Regeneration still intact,” said a technician, typing into a console. “But his response time slows with repeated injuries. The nerves are reacting slower than the dermal layer.”

Dr. Graves stood by, unfazed.

“Push the pain limit. Make it hard to recover. We need to see if it has a threshold.”

Alina’s heart thundered in her chest.

They were testing his limits. Testing how much pain he could endure before his powers failed.

The man’s head rolled forward, sweat and blood dripping down his face.

And he was conscious.

She wanted to scream. To help.

But she didn’t even let herself flinch.

She kept walking.

Eyes forward. Silent.

Invisible.

-----------------------------------

The hallway led to another room — her usual testing area.

But her mind wasn’t here.

Not really.

Not while that image still burned behind her eyes — that man’s body healing over and over, just so they could cut him again.

What were they trying to prove?

What would they do to her if they knew?

The scientist running today’s test — a quiet man with thick glasses and trembling hands — barely looked at her as he strapped her into the biometric scanner.

“Vitals,” he mumbled. “Breathing, heart rate… testing for mutations in sensory reflexes.”

She said nothing. Just stared at the light on the ceiling.

He pressed a cold object to her temple. She didn’t react.

Behind him, the door creaked open.

“Dr. Rowan,” said a voice she recognized — Graves again. “We’ll be testing Subject 8 next. Move fast.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Alina’s chest tightened.

Another one?

Another test subject. Another person like her.

Was she the only one hiding? The only one afraid?

==============================

As she was escorted back, the guards passed another hall. The metal door to one of the deeper labs was slightly ajar.

She caught a glimpse.

A girl — couldn’t be older than sixteen — strapped to a chair with a helmet wired to her skull. She was screaming, tears running down her face as static danced around her body.

Bolts of electricity jumped from her fingers, out of her control, sparking wildly against the walls.

The scientists watched calmly from behind a protective screen.

“Electric manipulation unstable. Mental state affects output. Increase voltage.”

“Please,” the girl sobbed. “Stop— I don’t want— I didn’t mean to—”

The helmet glowed brighter.

Her screams didn’t stop.

Alina looked away just before the door shut.

Her stomach twisted.

Back in her cell, she sat on the floor, staring at her hands.

They looked so normal. Soft, almost delicate.

But she knew the truth.

She had something inside her that could stop time. Shift reality. Control storms and silence bullets.

She had more power than any of the others.

And if they found out… if they even suspected…

They would destroy her — or break her trying.

But for now, they still believed she was ordinary.

She would keep it that way.

At least until she figured out how to escape.

Or until they pushed someone too far… and she had no choice.