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He throws my hand down like a petulant child, and I feel his fingers on my face as he moves closer. The heat of his body makes me shiver, and the faint smell of whisky on his breath as he spits his words makes me recoil as far as I can. Pain already racks my body, but it is nothing that will compare to what is to come now that I have tried to defy him.
A useless rebellion.
In the long run, it will only hurt me longer if I fight.
“Now behave, Novaleen. You know why I do this. It’s to help you and to better mankind. It will expand the human mind . . .”
Panting, I lean into the wall, pushing through the memory. It fades away with a mocking laugh. For a moment, I’m still that young, scared, pained girl who’s lost in the dark, reaching out desperately for someone to save me, only for my hand to be taken by the monster.
Betterment of mankind? It’s such bullshit.
All of his research was utter bullshit. All he did was scar children and force them to become wounded adults. Yes, we are stronger and faster, and we have higher IQs and survival skills. That part of his research might have succeeded, but everything else?
It failed.
We aren’t supersoldiers. We are too broken for that.
“Nova?” Louis’s soft voice pierces the haze of anger and resentment, reaching for me in the dark.
They aren’t coming to save me from my father, but instead, they are right here in the darkness along with me, and their hands are in mine as we face our demons together.
“I’m fine,” I mutter gruffly, pushing away from the wall, shaking yet again.
It’s just a place, Nova, just a fucking place. Get over it and man the fuck up.
With that thought repeating in my head, I lift my foot and take one step, and then another. The world around me is a blur, my racing heartbeat roaring in my ears as I focus on my feet and nothing else, like that will stop the memories from reaching for me again.
Flashes of them move past my eyes, but I ignore them as best as I can as I lead them to the lab.
“No, Daddy, please, I’ll be good. I swear!” My young self struggles to walk as he pulls me down the corridor, sighing in disgust before slinging me into his arms and carrying me into the lab. It’s the only time he ever carries me.
Next, I silently walk down it. I’m older and not even reaching out anymore. I’m just silently and numbly walking after him.
The years pass through those memories, from a sobbing, begging child to a stern, dead-inside teenager. My understanding of the world evolved alongside my understanding of the father who only saw me as an experiment, and never a child. Once upon a time, I loved him. I used to stay awake at night, begging for signs to tell me what I did wrong to make him hate me so, before I realised he didn’t. He never loved me either. He didn’t have children for that purpose. We were just another scientific research opportunity for him, nothing else. It made it easier when I realised he didn’t hate me but, instead, felt nothing, so I made myself the same, hoping it would be easier.
It wasn’t.
In that numbness, cracks formed in the dark as my silent hopes for a family, for love, tried to break through and pierce the shadows.
I finally stop, and when I do, I realise I am just above the steps and the hidden door to the lab. My hand reaches for the knob, but I snatch it back like it burned. The wood warms, screams fill the air, and hands reach under the door for me—familiar hands.
Mine.
I stumble back, turning to look at the others, seeking them out amongst the madness.
“I can’t . . . I can’t go down there,” I mutter, my voice shaking. I hate to admit that one weakness.
“It’s okay. We’ve got it from here,” Louis promises, stepping up to my side. He places his hand on my shoulder, grounding me. When my eyes meet his and I nod, he passes. The others squeeze through, putting their bodies between the door and me. I move farther and farther away, and with each step I take, my breathing gets easier, freer, and lighter, until I’m leaning into the wall, almost sagging in relief.
“It’s locked!” Louis calls, and a part of me relaxes at not having to face whatever demons are lying in wait in that torture lab.
“Open it!” a soldier commands me.
“I don’t know how,” I mutter, not looking at them. “It was always open.”
“Figure it out now!” the head one orders, his hand reaching for his weapon again. I’m feeling too vulnerable for this, and not like my usual, argumentative self. Luckily, Jonas slides before me, his arms crossed.
“It’s a fucking high-tech security lock. She wouldn’t know how anyway, so back the fuck off before I decide to play Nico’s game and see how far the soldiers can fly.”
