Hazel's Doorstep
1277 Words
Axel stood outside the door for a full minute before knocking.
His hand hovered over the rusted metal surface. The paint was peeling. The hinges were corroded. But behind this door was the only person in the Fringe who had ever made him feel like he wasn't just a corpse waiting to happen.
He knocked.
The door opened a crack. A single eye peered out—brown, sharp, instantly assessing. Then the eye widened.
"Axel?" The door swung open. Hazel stood there, her face a mixture of relief and alarm. "You're alive. I heard—everyone said you died in that Rift."
"I almost did." Axel stepped inside. "I need your help."
Hazel's small clinic was cluttered with medical supplies, worn furniture, and the faint smell of antiseptic. She closed the door behind him and locked it. Then she turned and studied him with trained eyes.
"You're hurt. Your shoulder—"
"Healing. I need something else." Axel pulled off his pack and set it on her table. "I found information about my father. He's alive. The Council is holding him in a facility near the Fringe's edge."
Hazel's face went pale. "Axel, that's—"
"I'm going in tomorrow. But I need to know what I'm walking into. You used to work with the Fringe's medical teams. You know the layout of the old industrial sector."
Hazel shook her head slowly. "That was years ago. I don't have maps. I don't have—"
"You have knowledge. That's what I need."
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she sighed and sat down heavily on a worn chair.
"You look terrible," she said quietly. "You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I haven't."
"And you're not going to sleep tonight either, are you?"
Axel didn't answer.
Hazel studied him. Her eyes were filled with something—concern, maybe. Or grief. She had always been able to see through him, even when he didn't want to be seen.
"Sit down," she said. "Let me look at your shoulder. Then we'll talk."
---
The wound was healing faster than it should have.
Hazel examined it with a practiced hand, her frown deepening as she removed the bandages. The tissue was pink and healthy—far too healthy for a wound that was only a few days old.
"This should be infected," she said. "It should be swollen. Painful. Instead, it looks like it's been healing for two weeks."
"Protocol," Axel said. "It accelerates recovery."
Hazel looked up at him. "Axel, your heartbeat is forty beats per minute. That's not human. That's not even Hunter-normal."
"I know."
"And your body temperature is dropping. You're running cold."
"I know."
Hazel sat back, her face troubled. "You're changing. I can see it. You're becoming something else."
Axel looked away. "I'm aware."
"Does it scare you?"
He was silent for a moment. Then: "Yes."
Hazel reached out and took his hand. Her touch was warm—warmer than he remembered. He could feel her pulse through her fingers. Steady. Alive.
"You're still you," she said. "I can see it in your eyes. Don't let them take that away."
Axel looked at her. She was the one person who had never treated him like a burden. The one person who had patched him up without asking for payment. The one person who made him feel like he was worth saving.
"I'll try," he said.
---
They spent the next hour going over the layout of the industrial sector.
Hazel had worked there during a medical outreach program years ago. She remembered the streets, the buildings, the hidden access points that the Council had likely overlooked.
"There's an old maintenance tunnel," she said, pointing to a hand-drawn map. "It runs beneath the main facility. If you can get inside, you can access the lower levels without going through the front entrance."
"What about security?"
"Cameras. Motion sensors. Probably automated turrets." Hazel frowned. "The Council doesn't leave anything to chance."
Axel studied the map. "I can handle security. I need to know where they're keeping the prisoners."
Hazel hesitated. "I don't know for sure. But the lower levels are where they do their experiments. That's where they'd hold someone they're using for research."
Axel nodded. "That's where I'll go."
"Axel—" Hazel stopped. Her voice was quiet. "What happens after you find him?"
"I don't know." He folded the map and tucked it into his pack. "But I'll figure it out."
Hazel stood and moved to a cabinet. She pulled out a small medical kit and pressed it into his hands.
"Take this. Bandages, antiseptic, painkillers. You'll need them."
Axel looked at the kit. Then at her. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just come back alive." She met his eyes. "I'm not going to watch you die too."
---
Kael was waiting outside when Axel emerged.
"You okay?" Kael asked.
Axel didn't answer. He was still thinking about Hazel's words. I'm not going to watch you die too.
He'd never thought about what it would do to her if he didn't come back. He'd only thought about himself. His father. His mission.
That was the problem with the Protocol. It made everything feel distant. Even the people who mattered most.
"I'm fine," Axel said. "We move at dawn."
---
Dawn came cold and gray.
Axel and Kael moved through the Fringe's eastern sector, keeping to the shadows. The industrial district was a graveyard of abandoned factories and rusted machinery. Nothing moved. Nothing lived.
Except for the Council facility.
It rose from the center of the district like a monument to control—four stories of reinforced concrete, surrounded by a high fence and automated defense systems. Guards patrolled the perimeter. Cameras swept the grounds.
Axel studied it from a rooftop across the street.
"Two entrances," he murmured. "Front gate. Service door on the east side. We go through the service door."
Kael nodded. "I'll cover you from here. If anything goes wrong, I'll create a distraction."
Axel looked at him. "If anything goes wrong, you run. Don't wait for me."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I'm not leaving you."
"Then don't let anything go wrong."
Axel descended from the rooftop and moved toward the facility.
---
The service door was locked.
Axel pressed his hand against the electronic panel. The System screen flickered.
Access Denied.
Security Protocol: Level 4.
Override Available? (Yes/No)
Axel selected "Yes."
The panel flickered. Then it went dark. The door clicked open.
Override Successful.
Warning: Intrusion detected. Security response: 5 minutes.
Five minutes. That was all he had.
Axel slipped through the door and into the facility's lower levels.
The interior was cold and sterile. White walls. Fluorescent lights. The air smelled of antiseptic and something else—something metallic. Blood.
He moved quickly, his footsteps silent on the polished floor. The layout matched Hazel's map. He turned left at the first intersection, then right at the second.
The corridor ended at a heavy steel door.
Axel pressed his ear to the surface. Silence. He tried the handle. Locked.
He reached for his sword.
Then the System screen appeared.
Lock: Electronic.
Security Response: 3 minutes remaining.
Recommendation: Force entry.
Axel swung his blade. The lock shattered. He pushed the door open.
Inside was a laboratory.
Rows of examination tables. Medical equipment. Monitors displaying vital signs. And in the center of the room, suspended in a glass tank filled with amber liquid—
A figure.
Axel's breath caught.
The figure was male. Middle-aged. His face was slack, his eyes closed. Tubes ran from his arms and chest, connecting him to machines that hummed with low energy.
Subject 7.
Axel's father.
- Writer
