Elara's breath was ragged as she ran through the streets, her vision blurring with desperation. She didn't care about the people she passed, the sounds of cars honking, or the distant voices calling her name. She just wanted to be home—to be safe, to be with her family. If she could just reach them, if she could just see her mother, maybe everything would make sense again. Maybe this nightmare would end.
She burst through the front door, her heart pounding against her ribs. The house smelled the same—faintly of vanilla and old wood—but something felt wrong, horribly wrong.
Her breath hitched.
Everything was exactly as she had left it.
Her bed was neatly made, the soft glow of the evening light filtering through the curtains. Her books, her trinkets, even the sweater she had thrown onto her chair before leaving for school the day before—it was all untouched. As if time had frozen.
She stepped inside, the floor creaking beneath her feet.
"What...?" she whispered.
A quiet giggle broke the silence.
She spun around.
Eva stood in the doorway, her small frame bathed in the dim light of the hall. Her hands clasped in front of her, her head tilted slightly.
But that smile.
That same eerie, knowing smile from before.
"Elara?" Eva's voice was soft, almost melodic. "Why do you look so scared?"
Elara swallowed, stepping closer. "Eva… whose room is this?"
Eva blinked. And then she giggled again.
"It's yours, silly."
The walls groaned.
Elara's stomach twisted. The room—her room—began to distort at the edges. The walls rippled like the surface of water. The colors faded, drained away into dull grays and blacks. Her bookshelf warped, the titles unreadable, the spines melting together.
She staggered backward, hitting the dresser. "Eva… what's happening?"
Eva took a step closer, her smile never faltering.
"You left us, Elara."
A cold shiver crawled down her spine.
"What are you talking about? I never—"
Eva's head tilted further, her pupils swallowing the whites of her eyes. "You did."
The room trembled.
Elara turned to flee, but the hallway beyond the door was gone. In its place, an endless black void stretched into nothingness.
Her breath hitched. "No, no, no—"
A hand gripped her wrist.
She shrieked, yanking away.
Eva stood there, still smiling. But now… there was something else.
Behind her.
Shadows flickered. Stretched. Crawled.
Whispers slithered through the air, voices overlapping, echoing, calling her name from the abyss beyond the door.
Eva stepped forward, and the shadows followed.
"You shouldn't have come back," Eva whispered.
Elara's scream lodged in her throat as the darkness surged forward, swallowing her whole.
And then—
Silence.
Cold.
Nothingness.
A faint beeping sound echoed in the distance.
Her eyes fluttered open.
She was lying in a sterile, dimly lit room.
The scent of antiseptic filled her lungs. She tried to move, but her body felt heavy. Slow.
A figure sat beside her, his dark eyes watching her carefully.
Jian.
"Elara," he murmured, reaching for her hand. "You're safe now."
Her mind reeled, the whispers still ringing in her ears.
She turned to look at him, her voice barely a whisper.
"Am I?"
Jian's smile didn't reach his eyes.
And in that moment, she knew.
No.
She was not.
Elara's body felt weightless, like she was drifting between reality and something far worse. The sterile white ceiling above her blurred in and out of focus. The beeping of the machines beside her was steady, too steady—like a heartbeat that wasn't her own.
She turned her head, slowly, every muscle in her body resisting the movement. Jian was still there, sitting beside her. His fingers were barely touching hers, but his grip felt cold. Too cold.
"You're safe now," he repeated, but something in his tone was off.
Elara swallowed, her throat dry. "Where am I?"
Jian didn't answer immediately. His dark eyes searched hers, as if calculating how much truth she could handle.
"You had an episode," he finally said, his voice careful. "You were found outside your house, unconscious."
Elara's heart pounded. Outside her house?
"No," she croaked. "I was inside. I saw them. I saw Eva—"
Jian's jaw tightened. He shook his head. "Elara, listen to me." His hand finally grasped hers fully, squeezing it slightly. "Your family isn't there anymore."
A chill ran through her. "What…?"
Jian sighed. "They've been gone for a long time."
The words didn't make sense. They didn't fit with everything she had seen, with everything she had felt. The warmth of the house, the smell of her mother's perfume lingering in the air, the way her father sat at the table reading his newspaper.
She shook her head violently. "No. That's not true. I saw them! They were there, Jian!"
Jian exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple as if he had expected this reaction. "They weren't real, Elara." His voice was softer now, almost pained. "They were placed there.
Memories. Fragments. You ran back to something that doesn't exist anymore."
Her breath hitched. "You're lying."
"I'm not."
A silence stretched between them.
Elara gritted her teeth, trying to pull her hand away, but Jian held firm. "Let go of me."
Jian didn't move. His fingers twitched slightly, hesitation flickering in his gaze.
That's when she saw it.
A faint purple stain on his wrist.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The same dark purple color.
The same shade as the liquid he had forced into her before everything had changed.
A sick realization churned in her stomach.
Her voice trembled. "What did you do to me, Jian?"
His grip loosened.
His lips parted slightly, as if searching for an answer, but before he could speak—
The door behind him clicked open.
Raven and Diemen stepped inside.
Jian stood immediately, positioning himself in front of Elara like a shield.
"That's enough," Raven said smoothly, his violet eyes gleaming under the fluorescent lights. "You've given her enough time, Jian."
Diemen stepped closer, pulling a sleek silver tablet from his coat pocket. His fingers danced across the screen. A quiet beep sounded.
Elara flinched.
Something inside her flinched.
A sharp, ice-cold sensation shot through her skull.
She gasped, gripping her head as flashes of something wrong flooded her mind.
A laboratory.
A chair with restraints.
The same dark purple liquid coursing through tubes.
Her own voice screaming.
Raven's voice, calm and methodical. "This one is different."
And then—
Jian. Standing above her. Holding her hand. Whispering. "I'm sorry."
Elara's breath came in short, ragged gasps as she clutched her head. The world spun violently.
"You—" She forced the words through the pain, her voice barely a whisper. "You did something to me."
Jian's expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a war between regret and something deeper.
Raven stepped forward. "We can still fix this, Elara." His voice was patient, coaxing. "You're not stable right now. Your mind is trying to hold onto things that aren't real. Let us help you."
"Fix me?" Elara spat, the pain in her skull subsiding just enough for her to glare at them. "What the hell did you do to me?"
Diemen tapped something else on the tablet. The beeping of the machines changed tempo.
Jian reacted instantly, shoving Diemen's hand away, knocking the tablet to the floor. "Enough!" His voice was raw, desperate. "She's not just another experiment!"
Raven sighed, rubbing his temple. "Jian, don't make this harder than it already is."
Elara's hands clenched into fists.
She had no idea what was real anymore.
Her family. Her memories. Even herself.
But one thing was clear.
She was nothing more than a test subject to them.
And she wasn't going to let them control her any longer.
With all the strength she had left, she ripped the IV from her arm and lunged forward—
Straight for the door.
Jian's voice called out.
Raven and Diemen reacted immediately.
But she didn't stop.
Didn't look back.
She just ran.
To be continue ....