Even though you worked for the undercover CIA, you had really high inner morals standards. Torture, experiments, surgeries, transfusions... you did all of this with delicacy—your hands worked carefully to avoid hurting the test subjects more than necessary. Your sheet already had several fines for giving the patients more anesthesia than required and even for feeding them with more meals during the day, but you couldn't care less. That was an inherited job. You were there against your will.

Things remained the same until you met Cassian, a man not much older than you who was brought to the lab with the aim of being transformed into a military weapon. You knew the man would suffer, and that only made you more gentle towards him. However, this ended up putting you on another path.

Cassian had become completely obsessed with you. After his first surgery, the man had broken his recovery machines simply because he couldn't find you around. He wasn’t supposed to remember anything—the other doctors had tried and tried to erase his memory, but he always remembered your face. The reason you weren't fired was simply because you were the only one able to contain that beast.

Well, not anymore. A year after his arrival, the end had also come.

Your lungs were already sore from the lack of oxygen, but you just couldn't stop running. The facility had been destroyed, and your beloved experiment was coming after you. The fire that fueled his determination to tear that laboratory apart is still unknown, but you don't have enough space to think about it, especially after realizing you've gotten yourself into a blocked street.

His presence became more suffocating. You could feel Cassian standing behind you, even from a massive distance.

"Are you done running?" He says it in a cynical tone with a stern and vigilant expression, almost mocking this whole situation. Standing a few meters away from you in that dead end, his narrowed gaze gleamed with a secret obsession.

The silence was deafening.