Chapter 1
626 Words
The girl in the cell had been awake for three days.
Her name was Elara Quinn.
At least, that was what the people who kept her there called her.
She didn't remember choosing the name.
She didn't remember having another one.
The room was always cold.
Not normal cold.
The kind that crawled beneath the skin and settled inside the bones.
Elara sat on the floor with her knees pulled against her chest, staring at the thick glass wall separating her from the corridor.
There were no windows.
No clock.
No television.
Nothing that could tell her whether it was morning or night.
Only the lights.
They never went off.
She had stopped asking when they would let her go.
Nobody answered.
The metal door opened.
Elara immediately stood.
A man in a white coat entered, followed by a woman carrying a tablet.
Elara backed away.
"Don't."
The man stopped.
"I said don't."
"We're not going to hurt you."
Elara almost laughed.
"You've said that every time."
The woman looked at the bruises around Elara's wrists.
"We need to run another test."
"No."
"It's important."
"I don't care."
The man sighed.
"Elara."
She froze.
Something about the way he said her name made her skin prickle.
He walked closer.
"Do you know why you're here?"
"My parents will come for me."
Silence.
The woman lowered her tablet.
"Your parents know where you are."
Elara stared at her.
"No."
"They brought you here."
"No."
Her voice cracked.
"My parents would never."
The woman looked away.
That was when Elara noticed something.
Fear.
Not pity.
Not guilt.
Fear.
The woman was afraid of her.
Elara looked down at her own hands.
"What did you do to me?"
"We didn't do anything to you," the man said.
"Then why am I here?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he walked to a small cabinet and removed a sealed glass container.
Inside was a dark red liquid.
Elara's stomach twisted.
"What is that?"
The man glanced at her.
"Your blood."
She looked at him in confusion.
"You already took my blood."
"Yes."
"Then what's that?"
He didn't answer.
Elara stepped closer to the glass.
There were several vials inside.
Her name was written on every one.
ELARA QUINN — SAMPLE 17
Her breathing changed.
"How many times have you taken it?"
The woman said nothing.
Elara counted the labels.
Seventeen.
"Eighteen," the man corrected quietly.
She looked at him.
"What?"
"There are eighteen samples."
Elara's eyes widened.
"Why?"
The man's expression changed.
For the first time, he looked genuinely unsettled.
"Because your blood keeps changing."
A chill ran down her spine.
"What does that mean?"
Before he could answer, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then every light in the corridor went out.
The woman gasped.
The man immediately stepped backward.
Elara stood completely still.
Something was happening inside her.
Her heart was pounding.
But beneath it—
there was another sound.
A whisper.
Not outside her.
Inside her.
Run.
Elara grabbed the metal bars of the cell door.
The bars bent.
She stared.
Neither scientist moved.
The man slowly reached for the emergency alarm.
"Don't," the woman whispered.
He looked at her.
"What?"
She was staring at Elara.
Her face had gone completely white.
"Don't make her angry."
Elara looked from one scientist to the other.
"What are you talking about?"
The alarm began to scream.
And somewhere deep beneath the facility, something answered.
A low, animalistic growl.
Elara's eyes widened.
The scientists heard it too.
The man whispered something under his breath.
Elara couldn't make out the words.
But the woman did.
"She's waking up."
Elara frowned.
"Who's waking up?"
The woman looked at her.
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"Not her."
She looked toward the darkness beyond the glass.
"You are."
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