Falling For The Experiment

THE LAB IN THE RED

CHAPTER 4

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THE LAB IN THE RED

Kaelen’s POV

I blinked rapidly, my vision struggling to adjust to the blinding light filtering through the glass—no, not glass. This wasn’t the cold, sterile cage I had been confined to for as long as I could remember. I was in a room. A real room.

And not just that.

I was lying on a bed. No chains. No restraints.

A frown tugged at my lips. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this... free. No, that wasn’t right. I had never been free—not since they dragged me into this strange place. This illusion of comfort was nothing more than a trick, a carefully orchestrated illusion meant to disarm me.

Then, without warning, a sharp, searing pain shot through my body, tearing me away from my thoughts. I sucked in a breath, gritting my teeth as the ache settled deep into my muscles—a cruel reminder of their last experiment. The phantom traces of their so-called tests still burned beneath my skin, a sensation that refused to fade.

Beyond the walls, their machines hummed, a low, constant vibration that crawled into my bones. The sound itself wasn’t loud—just a rhythmic series of beeps and whirs—but to my ears, it was deafening. I let out a slow, deliberate hiss, the noise grating against my already frayed nerves.

My gaze swept over the room, scanning every inch of it. Weakness. That was the only word for it. The walls, the bed they had placed me on, even their so-called instruments—everything about this place reeked of fragility. A smirk curled at my lips.

Was this truly the best they had to offer? The pinnacle of their technology? Their finest tools of control?

Pathetic.

A soft creak at the door pulled me from my musings. I turned my head just in time to see him step inside.

Him.

The same man I had seen in my dreams.

His deep blue eyes locked onto mine, widening in shock. Ocean eyes—the kind that could pull you under if you stared too long. He faltered for only a moment before regaining his composure, his hands tightening into fists at his sides.

"You're awake," he said, his voice steady despite the faint tremor beneath it.

Understanding their language had never been a challenge. I could speak 1,645 tongues from different realms. It was my birthright, my responsibility as the prince of my people. We were obligated to know them all.

But I didn’t answer.

Instead, I watched him, my gaze following every minute detail—every twitch of his fingers, every subtle shift in his stance. Fear. It rolled off him in thick, suffocating waves, tainting the air between us. His heartbeat drummed against his ribs, too fast, too erratic.

And then there was his mind.

I could hear it. I could see it. His thoughts were a tangled mess of terror and expectation. He believed I would lunge at him, sink my teeth into his throat, rip him apart the moment I had the chance.

I almost laughed.

I couldn’t even blame him for thinking that way. That was the story they had fed him. Fed all of them. A carefully crafted lie, reinforced over time. I had once come across one of their books—an ancient human text depicting my kind with a crude, almost laughable rendering. It was the most atrocious misrepresentation I had ever seen. And yet, they believed it.

How gullible they were.

But there was something else about him—something different from the rest. It wasn’t just his fear. There was something… off. Something he himself didn’t seem to realize.

It started with his heartbeat. It wasn’t quite like the others. Too controlled, too precise, yet undeniably human. He looked tall—perhaps six foot one—but the way his lab coat hung off him made him appear smaller, more unassuming.

Then, he spoke again.

"Let's start from here." His voice cut through the silence, steady yet uncertain. "What's your name? I'm Elias."

Elias.

I tilted my head, resisting the urge to smirk at the contrast between his name and his demeanor. He was trembling beneath the surface, his fear barely held at bay by sheer willpower, yet he was still standing. Still speaking. Still pretending to be composed.

I had to admit, it was almost… cute.

"I'm not here to kill you, nor to fight you," he added, his tone firmer this time.

I rolled my eyes.

You didn’t come here to kill me, but you used that thing—the voltage—on me like I was some mindless beast. Unaware that it would affect you as well because...

Before I could finish my thought, his hand brushed against my arm.

I stiffened.

I didn’t even notice when he had moved closer. But the moment his skin made contact with mine, something in me snapped. Instinct took over, and in a flash, I was no longer on the bed.

I had moved.

No—I had teleported.

I now stood behind him, my breath brushing against the back of his neck.

Elias tensed, his shoulders locking up as if he had just glimpsed a monster lurking in the shadows. His gaze darted around the room, frantic, searching for me.

"I'm behind you," I murmured, my lips inches from his ear.

He jerked violently, spinning around to face me, his ocean eyes wide with something that wasn’t just fear—but awe.

I wasn’t paying attention to that, though.

I had just realized something.

His scent. It was unlike any human here. A distinct, crisp freshness—like mint. It clung to him, subtle yet impossible to ignore.

I narrowed my eyes.

Who are you, Elias?

Before I could probe further, a deafening sound pierced the air. The blaring wail of their alarm system.

I knew immediately what had triggered it.

I had scared him. A mere moment of fear, a flicker of uncertainty in his mind, and the entire facility had been alerted.

I exhaled through my nose, unimpressed.

How fragile. How predictable.

Elias’ breathing was uneven now, his pulse a frantic rhythm beneath his skin.

And yet, despite the chaos, I didn’t move.

Because in that instant, I knew something with absolute certainty.

Elias was more than just another human. And I intended to find out exactly what he was.

Just then, my gaze dropped to his neck, seeking confirmation of my suspicions. And there it was—the sign, the chip embedded just beneath his skin. The proof that he wasn’t one of them. No wonder he stood apart from the rest, different in ways even he didn’t seem to realize.

The alarms blared louder, the distant sound of rushing footsteps growing closer. They were coming.

Before they could reach us, I leaned in, my lips hovering near his ear. My voice was low, almost a whisper.

"They’ll kill you before they let you know the truth."

Elias turned sharply, his ocean-blue eyes locking onto mine, searching—desperate to decipher the meaning behind my words. But I only smirked. I meant every syllable, and whether he believed me or not was his problem.

Disbelief flickered across his face, his features tightening as conflicting emotions warred within him. I could practically see the battle in his mind—one side urging him to believe me, the other drowning in hesitation, in the lies they had fed him his entire life.

He wasn’t ready. Not yet.

I lifted my hand and pressed two fingers against the chip on his neck.

Instantly, the dead monitor in the room flickered to life.

A dull hum filled the air as the screen glowed, lines of encrypted data flashing before stabilizing. Then, a single image appeared.

His face.

Clear as day, staring back at him.

And stamped across the screen, in bold, unmistakable letters:

SUBJECT TWO.

His breath hitched. I watched as realization crashed over him—confusion first, then betrayal, then something deeper. Something raw.

I tilted my head, amusement curl

ing in my chest.

"Now do you see, Elias?" I murmured, watching the color drain from his face.

"You’re not human. You were never one of them."