As the night wore on, the lab buzzed with grim activity, the sounds of suffering echoing through the sterile hallways.
The mystery man stood still, observing the broken captives with a sense of cold detachment. Every flicker of life, every scream, was just a means to an end.
The younger scientist, whose conscience had been gnawing at him, paused as he noticed the girl in the corner coughing violently. Her body, frail from the experiments, jerked with each breath as she struggled against the toxins being pumped into her cage.
"She's not going to make it," he muttered under his breath.
The older scientist beside him shrugged, not even looking up from his clipboard. "Doesn't matter. If she dies, we get another one. She's just a number."
"But… she's just a kid." The younger scientist's voice cracked, his eyes darting around as if he was contemplating doing something—anything—to stop it.
"You want to end up like her?" The older scientist's gaze was hard, filled with years of beaten-down obedience. "Because that's what's going to happen if you get soft. He'll notice, and when he does… you're next."
From the shadows, the mystery man's voice sliced through the air once again, calm yet laced with a chilling authority. "Are you having doubts?"
The younger scientist froze, his heart thudding in his chest. He hadn't realized the mystery man was listening.
"No, sir," he stammered quickly, trying to regain his composure. "Just... a minor observation."
The mystery man's masked face turned ever so slightly in his direction, and though his features were obscured, the tension in the room thickened.
"Good. Then get back to work." The order was simple but final. There was no room for hesitation.
As the younger scientist moved back to his station, his hands trembling as he adjusted the machinery, the woman who had spoken out earlier—the one who had begged them to stop—stirred in her cage.
She had seen the scientist's moment of consciousness, that brief flicker of humanity, and now, with desperation clawing at her, she whispered, "Please… help us… I know you want to… you can't do this forever."
He looked over, his jaw clenched, eyes filled with torment. For a moment, it seemed like he might break. But the sharp crackle of the intercom snapped him back to reality, and the mystery man's voice once again filled the room.
"Subject 47," he said coldly. "Increase the dosage."
The scientist's heart sank. Subject 47—the girl who was barely clinging to life. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the control panel.
"Is there a problem?" The voice came again, this time sharper, more threatening.
"N-No, sir," the scientist stammered. His hand moved to the dials, but as he turned them, his mind screamed against what he was doing.
In the corner, the girl's body convulsed violently as the increased dosage hit her system. Her screams, high-pitched and raw, pierced the silence, sending shivers through the room.
The younger scientist turned away, bile rising in his throat as he listened to the sounds of her suffering. He clenched his fists, his body shaking with frustration, anger, and guilt. He couldn't keep doing this.
From the observation window above, the mystery man watched with silent satisfaction. "Make sure she survives for the next round. I want a full analysis of her cellular breakdown."
The older scientist, long resigned to his role, barely flinched as the screams echoed around them. He stepped forward, speaking quietly to his younger colleague. "You'll get used to it. We all do."
The younger man shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't think I ever will."
The lab was a nightmare, and every day he spent there till now, Marcus the young man, felt like he was drowning in guilt. He wasn't like the others—cold, detached, or willing to accept that this was just "work." He isn't inhumane enough to let those people who are suffering this much in the name of experimentation let go or ignore.
The screams of the children haunted him, their faces burned into his mind. The girl in the corner, Subject 47, was especially hard to forget. She was barely hanging on, and yet they kept pushing her, testing her, breaking her.
Marcus knew if he didn't do something soon, she wouldn't make it. But in this place, you couldn't show weakness. The mystery man was always watching, always waiting for someone to slip up. And when they did, they disappeared or became part of the receiving end of the experiments.
He couldn't just stand by anymore. Not after today.
During the late hours of the night, Marcus had a small window of time when the shifts changed. The mystery man usually took a break around midnight, stepping away from the observation window to make his rounds elsewhere. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
Tomorrow, Marcus was going to send a message. A cry for help, even if it meant risking everything.
As the clock struck midnight, the mystery man's dark figure disappeared from the observation deck, leaving the lab eerily quiet except for the hum of machines and the occasional cough from the children.
Marcus's shift was going to change, his heart raced, his palms sweating as he carefully moved toward the small maintenance room near the back of the lab. It was the only place with enough of a blind spots where he could use the old terminal without being seen.
Once inside, he locked the door and quickly tapped into the hidden communication network he had discovered weeks ago. It wasn't part of the main system, just an old line meant for emergency maintenance requests.
No one used it anymore, and Marcus had made sure to keep it that way, deleting logs and covering his tracks every time he accessed it.
His fingers trembled as he typed out the message, explaining everything—what was happening to the children, the experiments, the torture. He kept it short, not wanting to stay offline for too long.
'Please, someone… anyone. We need help. The children won't survive much longer.'
Marcus hit send and quickly deleted the message from the system, wiping any trace of it. He stood there for a moment, heart pounding in his chest. What if no one saw it? What if it was too late?
Suddenly, a notification pinged on the terminal. A reply.
Marcus's eyes widened in shock as he opened the message.
"I'll be there soon. I'm Thanatos. I'll contact you through a secure line."
A second message followed with a phone number attached.
"Save this as someone you talk to regularly or everyday. I'll communicate with you soon. Stay calm, and keep them safe."
Marcus barely breathed as he hurriedly pulled out his phone, typing in the number and saving it under the name Mom. His hands shook, but a strange sense of relief washed over him. Someone had heard him. Someone was coming to save those pitiful souls from their misery.
He shoved the phone into his pocket and quickly returned to his station for his duty. His eyes darted around the lab, scanning for any signs that someone had noticed. The older scientist was busy scribbling notes on his clipboard, and the rest of the lab staff were too focused on their tasks to care about Marcus.
For a brief moment, Marcus allowed himself to feel hope. He had done it—without getting caught. But he knew he had to stay cautious. One wrong move, and the mystery man would know. And Marcus didn't doubt for a second that if he found out, he'd be the next one in a cage.
As he sat back at his desk, his mind raced. The mystery man would return soon, and everything had to appear normal. Marcus couldn't afford to slip up. He went through the motions, checking readings, adjusting doses, all while keeping his eyes on the clock.
Minutes felt like hours as the tension in the air grew thicker. The door to the observation deck opened, and the mystery man re-entered the room. His presence was like a dark cloud, sucking all the air out of the lab. Marcus kept his head down, pretending to focus on his work.
The mystery man didn't say anything, simply observing once again from above. But Marcus could feel his eyes on him, watching, waiting. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, but he forced himself to stay calm as he went back to work.
In his pocket, his phone buzzed softly—a message from the number saved as Mom.
"I'm watching. Be ready. You'll hear from me soon."
Marcus took a shaky breath, his heart steadying as the weight of his decision settled over him. He had taken the first step. He wasn't alone anymore. And soon, this nightmare would end.
For now, all he had to do was survive. And make sure no one suspects a thing.
As the night wore on, the lab continued its grim routine, but Marcus moved through it with a new resolve. He was careful, cautious, using every blind spot, every break in the mystery man's watchful gaze to stay under the radar. No one could know what he had done. Not yet.
But with each passing moment, he felt it—hope. Hope that someone is coming to save these children. And he would do whatever it took to make sure they lived to see that day.
[Author's Note:
Thank you all so much for your amazing support—it means the world to me!
A Special Shoutout to My Patreon:
🌟 CrowThingz
🌟 Rahul
🌟 Jacob Weiss
— thank you for your continued support!
For those who want to read ahead, I currently have 40 advance chapters available on my Patreon for just $8. If you're eager to dive deeper into the story, come join us!
Here's the link to my Patreon:
[https://patreon.com/EmperorNumix]
(https://patreon.com/EmperorNumix)
Happy reading, and thank you again for all your encouragement!]