Over the next few days, Holo found himself returning to Trixie's cell more and more often. At first, it was out of obligation—he had signed up for this, after all—but as time went on, something about her drew him in. Despite her feral demeanor and unpredictable behavior, there was a strange allure to her. Maybe it was the way her wild energy seemed to simmer just beneath the surface, or the moments when she let her guard down, revealing glimpses of a person hidden beneath the chaos.
Each visit started the same way: Holo would sit a safe distance away, carefully choosing his words, and Trixie would watch him with an amused expression, as if she found his cautiousness entertaining. But over time, the tension in the air began to ease. She seemed to grow used to his presence, and her outbursts became less frequent—at least when it came to him.
One afternoon, as Holo entered her cell, Trixie looked up from where she was sitting on the floor. "You're back again," she said, tilting her head. "Didn't think you'd last this long."
Holo sat down a few feet away, keeping his distance but not as cautiously as before. "I guess I'm just stubborn," he said with a small smile.
Trixie smirked. "Or stupid."
"Maybe both," he admitted. "But you don't seem to mind me being here."
She shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "You're not as boring as most people. And you don't treat me like I'm some kind of monster."
"You're not a monster," Holo said, surprising even himself with the sincerity in his voice.
Trixie raised an eyebrow, her smile fading slightly. "Aren't I? You've seen what I'm like."
"Yeah," he said. "But I've also seen that there's more to you than that."
For a moment, Trixie didn't respond. She stared at him, her expression unreadable, before looking away. "You're weird," she muttered.
Holo chuckled, though his heart was pounding. "I'll take that as a compliment."
As the days passed, their conversations became easier, more natural. Holo found himself genuinely curious about Trixie—about her past, her thoughts, and what had brought her to this place. She rarely gave him straight answers, often deflecting his questions with sarcasm or jokes, but every now and then, she would let something slip. He learned that she hated being underestimated, that she loved the feeling of freedom, and that she despised being chained up like an animal.
At the same time, Holo couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. Her wild energy and sharp wit only added to her charm, and her appearance made it hard not to see her in a different light. He knew it was dangerous to think of her that way, but the more time he spent with her, the harder it became to ignore.
Trixie, for her part, seemed to grow more comfortable around Holo. She stopped lunging at him when he entered the room, and her playful teasing became less hostile and more genuine. But her aggression toward others didn't waver. Whenever the guards came in to check on her or bring her food, she would snarl and snap at them, her eyes blazing with fury. It was a stark reminder that, no matter how calm she seemed with Holo, the storm inside her was never far away.
One day, as they sat together in her cell, Trixie leaned back against the wall, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know," she said, her tone unusually soft, "you're not as annoying as I thought you'd be."
"Thanks," Holo said, unsure if it was a compliment or an insult.
"I mean it," she said, glancing at him. "Most people either avoid me or treat me like I'm some kind of freak. But you… you're different."
Holo hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I just… I don't think anyone's beyond help. Everyone deserves a chance."
Trixie snorted. "That's a nice thought. But not everyone thinks that way."
"Maybe not," he admitted. "But I do."
For a moment, Trixie didn't say anything. Then, to his surprise, she smiled—a small, genuine smile that made her look almost innocent. "You're weird," she said again, but this time, her voice was softer.
As Holo left her cell that day, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was getting closer to understanding her. But there was still a part of him that remained wary. No matter how calm she seemed, there was always an edge to her, a sense that she could snap at any moment. He wasn't sure if he could ever fully trust her—but he couldn't deny that she fascinated him.
And, though he hated to admit it, she was starting to grow on him.
Two weeks had passed since Holo first started visiting Trixie's cell, and their interactions had grown surprisingly familiar. What had started as cautious conversations and guarded exchanges had slowly evolved into something almost resembling friendship. The tension in the air was no longer suffocating, and Holo found himself able to relax more in her presence. They often joked and laughed together, and though Trixie still had her sharp edges, there was a noticeable shift in her behavior whenever Holo was around.
The scientists observing them had begun to take notice. Hidden cameras captured their interactions, and data from Trixie's heart rate tracker revealed a curious pattern. Whenever Holo entered her cell and started talking to her, Trixie's heart rate would increase slightly—not in a way that suggested agitation, but rather something more…excited. The scientists exchanged theories, intrigued by the subtle physiological changes that Holo's presence seemed to evoke in her.
One afternoon, Holo sat cross-legged on the floor of Trixie's cell, his back against the wall as he listened to her animatedly recount a story about how she had once outsmarted three guards in a single day. Trixie was grinning, her eyes alight with mischief as she waved her hands for emphasis, and Holo couldn't help but laugh at her antics.
"I'm serious!" she said, her voice tinged with mock offense. "You should've seen the looks on their faces. They had no idea what hit them."
"You're unbelievable," Holo said, shaking his head but still smiling.
"And you're finally catching on," she teased, leaning back against the wall with a smirk.
Their laughter echoed in the small cell, a sound that was almost foreign in such a sterile, lifeless environment. For the scientists monitoring them, it was a strange sight—Trixie, who had been labeled as uncontrollable and dangerous, laughing and smiling like an ordinary girl. It was a stark contrast to the reports that detailed her violent outbursts and erratic behavior.
But the peaceful moment didn't last. A guard entered the room, his expression stern as he addressed Holo. "Your time's up for today. Let's go."
Holo stood up, brushing off his pants. "I'll see you tomorrow, Trixie," he said, offering her a small smile.
Trixie's expression darkened in an instant. "What do you mean, 'time's up'?" she asked, her tone sharp.
"It's just for today," Holo said, trying to reassure her. "I'll be back tomorrow."
But Trixie wasn't listening. Her eyes locked onto the guard, and her body tensed as if she were a coiled spring ready to snap. When the guard moved to escort Holo out, she lunged.
With a feral growl, Trixie attacked the guard, her movements swift and almost inhuman. She tackled him to the ground, her fists flying as she shouted, "Don't touch him! Don't you dare take him away from me!"
The guard struggled beneath her, his shouts of pain echoing through the room. Trixie's strength was terrifying—far beyond what anyone could have expected. She slammed the guard into the floor with ease, her grip on him unrelenting.
"Holo is my friend!" she snarled, her voice filled with rage. "You don't get to take him away!"
"Holo, get out of here!" the guard shouted, trying to reach for his communicator.
Holo froze, panic gripping him as he watched the scene unfold. He wanted to help, to stop Trixie before things got worse, but he didn't know what to do. Before he could act, more guards burst into the room, weapons drawn.
"Trixie, stand down!" one of them ordered.
But she didn't listen. She turned her fury on the new arrivals, her movements a blur as she fought them off. It took three guards just to hold her in place, and even then, she broke free more than once. Her punches sent them stumbling back, and her resilience was almost unnatural—she barely seemed to register the blows they landed on her.
It wasn't until one of the guards managed to sedate her that the chaos finally subsided. Trixie collapsed to the floor, unconscious but still breathing heavily, her body still twitching slightly as if her rage hadn't fully subsided.
Holo stood frozen in the corner, his heart racing as he stared at her limp form. The guards looked equally shaken, their uniforms torn and bloodied from the struggle.
"She's a monster," one of them muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "How the hell are we supposed to handle her?"
"She's not a monster," Holo said quietly, though his voice trembled. "She just… she doesn't know how to handle losing someone."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing as they began to secure Trixie's restraints again. Holo watched as they carried her out of the room, his chest tightening with a mix of guilt and fear. He hadn't realized just how much he meant to her—or how dangerous her attachment could be.
The man who had brought Holo into the program approached him later that day, his expression grave. "You're making progress with her," he said. "But you need to be careful. Trixie's attachment to you is growing stronger, and it's… complicated."
"Complicated how?" Holo asked.
The man hesitated before answering. "Let's just say she doesn't handle separation well. Today was proof of that. If you're going to keep working with her, you need to be prepared for the consequences."
Holo nodded, though he wasn't sure what that meant. All he knew was that Trixie wasn't just another subject in this program—she was a person, one who had clearly been through more than she let on. And for better or worse, he had become a part of her world.