The door to Kali's room hissed shut behind her, the sound echoing in the small, dark space. She stood in the center of the room, her fists clenched, her breath coming in short bursts.
She sank onto the small bed in the corner, burying her face in her hands. The frustration churned inside her, mixing with shame. She had been so close to seeing Eleven again. Jane. If she'd just given in, if she'd done what Brenner wanted, maybe they'd have let her. But no. She couldn't. Not like that.
Her fingers curled tighter, her nails biting into her palms. Even if she had given in, what good would it have done? She didn't have the kind of power Brenner wanted.
She wasn't like the others. They could move things with their minds, crush objects, and more. She couldn't do any of that, but that didn't mean she was powerless.
She exhaled shakily, lowering her hands to her lap. There was something she could do—something none of the others could. Something she had hidden from Brenner and the rest of the staff. It wasn't as flashy as telekinesis, but it was hers.
Her "gift," as she called it, was subtle, almost fragile compared to the brute force the others displayed.
She thought back to the time she tested it on Dr. Coleman, during one of the observation sessions. Kali had been sitting across from the doctor as she scribbled notes on a clipboard. Bored and irritated, Kali had focused, imagining something crawling out from under Coleman's collar. A spider, black and glistening.
Coleman had frozen mid-sentence, her pen dropping to the floor. Her eyes widened in horror as she slapped at her neck, flailing to brush the imagined spider away. Kali had suppressed a smirk, dissolving the illusion as quickly as it had appeared and Coleman never realized what had happened.
Then there was the time she made an orderly's keys "disappear." She'd been observing him as he wandered the hallway, jingling his keyring on his belt loop. She had focused on the keys, imagining them gone—not physically, but hidden in plain sight. The orderly had patted his waist, frowning as he muttered to himself, searching for the keys that were still right there. She'd made them visible again before he could panic.
Kali leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Her abilities weren't as loud or destructive as the others', but they were just as powerful in their own way. Maybe even more so. If she could make people see—or not see—what she wanted, she could do anything. Escape, sabotage, protect.
She clenched her fists again, a flicker of determination breaking through her self-doubt.
Brenner didn't know the truth. None of them did. He could keep pushing her, testing her, trying to mold her into what he wanted, but he would never truly understand her.
Her abilities were hers. And one day, she would use them to take back her freedom.
***
The next morning, Kali was brought to the sensory deprivation tank, known among the children as the bath. Flanked by Dr. Coleman and the orderly, Kali kept her expression neutral, though her mind churned with unease.
The room housing the tank was cavernous. The tank itself loomed in the center, an imposing column of glass and reinforced steel, five feet wide and eight feet high. A cluster of technicians busied themselves at consoles and monitors, murmuring in clipped tones as they adjusted dials in preparation for the experiment.
Dr. Brenner stood at the head of the room, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they followed her approach. "Good morning, Eight," he greeted her, his tone calm.
She didn't respond.
Brenner's smile didn't falter. He gestured to the tank, its glass sides faintly fogged from the temperature difference.
"Today, we're going to try something different."
Kali's stomach tightened as Brenner continued, his voice smooth and deliberate, the way it always was when he was trying to manipulate her.
"This tank," he said, "is designed to help you access memories—memories from before you came to us."
Kali stiffened, her jaw tightening.
Brenner noticed. "I understand this may be... difficult. That's why I've waited until now. To protect you."
Protect her? She wanted to laugh. Protect me from you?
"Your parents," Brenner went on, his voice softening. "They gave you away. I wanted to protect you from the truth, but I see now that you are ready to face it."
Kali's eyes narrowed. She couldn't decide which was more infuriating: the confidence in his voice or the outright lie.
But she held her tongue. She had no choice. Instead, she nodded curtly. "What do you want me to do?"
Brenner's smile widened, pleased by her compliance. "We're going to immerse you in the tank. The sensory deprivation will allow your mind to focus inward, free from distraction. You'll relive key memories from your past. Emotions—especially fear and pain—can be powerful triggers for unlocking potential."
She knew better than to argue and resist. That would only lead to punishment.
Dr. Coleman stepped forward with a folded swimsuit. "Change into this," she instructed.
Kali accepted it silently and retreated to a small changing alcove. The swimsuit was plain and uncomfortable, with flotation pads fastened around the torso. When she emerged, Brenner's gaze swept over her appraisingly before he gestured toward the tank.
"Climb in," he said, as if it were an invitation rather than forcing her into yet another experiment.
She approached the tank hesitantly, its open hatch yawning like a mouth waiting to swallow her whole. Inside, the salty water glimmered faintly under the room's lights. Technicians mounted a breathing apparatus onto her head, their hands clinical but quick.
"Careful now," one of them murmured as she stepped into the lukewarm water.
The sensation of the salt-laden liquid was strange, its density buoying her weight. She floated easily, the flotation pads holding her steady in the center. The hatch hissed shut above her, plunging her into total darkness.
A faint hum filled the tank as the filtration system activated, while her breathing sounded loud and heavy in the confined space.
"Can you hear me, Eight?" Brenner's voice came through a speaker embedded in the helmet feeding her air.
"Yes," she replied, her voice hollow.
"Good. Focus on your breathing," Brenner instructed. "In and out. Slow. Steady."
The darkness pressed against her, the water enveloping her completely. The hum of the machine seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of her pounding heartbeat.
"Now," Brenner's voice came again, softer this time, "Think back. Think of the time before you came to us."
She tried to resist, but the sensory deprivation worked against her. With no sights, no sounds, no distractions, her mind was left with nowhere to go but inward.
Images began to flicker at the edges of her consciousness—fragmented, like snapshots from a broken camera. A townhouse. The scent of spices in the air. A woman's voice, low and melodic, speaking in a language she hadn't heard in years.
A man, laughing as he lifted her into the air, his face blurred but his warmth unmistakable.
And then, the cold dread. The men in black suits, their hands rough as they dragged her away.
Her breathing quickened, her chest tightening as the memories clawed their way to the surface. She tried to push them back, but they came anyway, relentless and vivid.
"Eight." Brenner's voice broke through the storm, grounding her. "What do you see?"
She didn't answer. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She remembered everything and it filled her with rage.
"What do you see?" Brenner repeated, more insistent.
"I want to stop," she whispered.
"Keep going," Brenner demanded. "You're so close."
"No!" she said louder, as panic began to creep in.
"Push through it!" Brenner ordered.
Kail's fingers curled into fists, her body trembling with the effort of containing her emotions. Then, an idea began to form—a desperate, risky idea.
She focused her energy, her mind latching onto the fear and anger swelling within her.
The air in the tank seemed to shift. The steady hum of the filtration system faltered. The technicians monitoring her saw sudden warnings flashing across their screens—oxygen levels dropping, vital signs dangerously low.
"Doctor Brenner!" one of them called, panic rising in their voice, as they scrambled to resolve the problem.
The hatch hissed open, and Coleman pulled Kali from the tank. She hung motionless in the doctor's arms, her face pale.
"No," Brenner hissed, stepping closer, his calm demeanor cracking for the first time.
"She has a pulse." Coleman stammered.
Brenner's eyes narrowed as he crouched beside her, his gaze piercing. His voice was low, vulnerable. "Eight," he said softly, almost coaxing. "I know you're there."
But Kali stayed perfectly still, her illusion holding.
After a tense moment, Brenner stood, his expression unreadable. "Take her to the infirmary. Now."
As the orderly and Coleman carried her away, Kali let the corners of her mouth curl into the faintest smile. For the first time in years, she had outmaneuvered him.
She lay perfectly still as Coleman and the orderly carried her into the infirmary. They moved quickly, the tension in the room palpable as they placed her on a white bed, her body unresponsive.
"What happened in there?" the orderly interjected, his gaze darting between Kali and Coleman's troubled expression.
"I don't know, Peter." Coleman snapped.
Kali focused on the illusion, but she could feel the strain. Her head throbbed with the effort, but she couldn't stop now.
As Coleman leaned over, frantically checking her breathing, Kali slipped her hand inside the doctor's lab coat pocket and pulled out a keycard. The motion was small, precise, but Kali's heart pounded in her chest.
She heard the orderly, Peter, shuffle closer towards her, feeling his piercing gaze on her and she reinforced the illusion, making her body appear completely still.
Coleman whispered, her panic growing. "Just—stay here. Doctor Brenner will want an update." And she was gone.
Kali nearly faltered, the effort of holding the illusion draining her. But the thought of Eleven—and the other children—gave her strength. She had another idea.
The intercom crackled to life. "Attention all staff," came Brenner's voice. "Report to my office immediately."
Peter straightened, his brows knitting in confusion.
"Immediately!" the voice repeated firmly.
Peter hesitated, his eyes lingering on Kali's still form, but then he hurried out of the infirmary, the door clicking shut behind them.
It worked. Kali let out a shaky breath, releasing the illusion with a gasp. Her body ached from the effort, but she couldn't afford to rest. She had to move.
Sliding off the bed, she clutched Coleman's keycard tightly and darted toward the infirmary door. She peered into the hallway—empty. Good.
Her heart raced as she navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the lab she had memorized and froze in place whenever she heard approaching footsteps.
Each time she focused to bend light around her, creating the illusion that she was invisible. She remained utterly still as lab staff walked by, her breath held until the danger had passed.
The hum of distant machinery and the faint murmur of voices set her nerves on edge, but she pressed on.
At last, she reached the unit where the test subject rooms were located. She made her way to the room labeled 11, her chest tightening with a mixture of hope and fear.
The door was locked. She fumbled with Coleman's keycard, but it was useless.
"Of course," she muttered, frustrated. She had forgotten that these rooms required specific keys carried by orderlies.
Time was running out. The cameras would have already captured her, and it wouldn't take long for someone to notice.
Desperate, she knocked softly on the door. "Jane," she whispered, leaning close. "Jane, it's me. It's Kali."
No answer. She knocked again, harder this time. "Jane! Are you in there? Please!"
Silence. Her heart sank. Either Eleven wasn't in the room, or she couldn't hear her.
Kali glanced down the hallway, weighing her options. She couldn't waste more time —she had to move. But the thought of leaving without Eleven made her stomach twist. She hesitated in the corridor, her thoughts racing.
She had been so close to giving up, when the sound of hurried footsteps made her freeze. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with the orderly, Peter. A cattle prod in one hand.
Before she could react, he was pulling her into a nearby storage room. The door clicked shut behind them.
Her heart pounded as she struggled against his grip, panic surging through her. "Let me go!"
Peter raised his hands and placed the cattle prod on a shelf. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you." he said softly.
Kali narrowed her eyes, backing toward the wall. "You expect me to believe that?"
Peter's voice lowered, soothing. "I'm trying to help you."
"Why?" she replied sharply, suspicion thick in her tone.
Peter hesitated, "Because you're different. I knew it the moment I saw you. You're... special."
Kali's suspicion deepened. "How do you know that?"
Peter glanced away, "Because I understand you. I'm a prisoner here, just like you and the others. I know what it's like to be trapped, to have no control over your own life."
Kali's eyes narrowed, "If you're really a prisoner, why would they trust you to work here?"
Peter didn't answer directly. Instead, he shifted closer, lowering his voice. "The other children are in the training room. I have a plan to get them out, but I need your help first."
Kali crossed her arms. "What kind of help?"
Peter's hand went to the back of his neck, brushing a spot just below his hairline. "There's a tracking device implanted here. It's how they control me. They'll find us no matter where we go."
Kali frowned. "How am I supposed to help with that?"
"It's too dangerous to cut it out," Peter explained, his voice tense. "But you... you can pull it out with your mind."
Kali blinked, caught off guard. "I can't do that."
Peter stepped closer, "You can. You just have to try."
"I told you," Kali said, backing into the corner of the room. "That's not how my power works."
Peter's demeanor shifted to frustration. "You can trust me. I won't tell them what you can do. But you are more powerful than you realise. You're just not trying hard enough."
"I'm telling the truth!" Kali snapped, her voice rising.
Peter loomed over her now, his tone darkening. "You want to save the others, don't you? Then do it!"
Fear knotted in Kali's stomach as Peter's frustration turned threatening. She glanced at the cattle prod on the shelf, just out of reach, but it was her only shot.
Focusing, she summoned her gift. The air shimmered faintly behind Peter, and an image materialized: Dr. Brenner, standing tall and cold, his arms crossed.
"Peter," the illusion said sharply, Brenner's voice ringing through the small room. "You shouldn't be here."
Peter froze, whipping around to face the projection.
It was all the distraction Kali needed. She snatched the cattle prod and jabbed it into his side. The device crackled as Peter convulsed, collapsing to the floor in a heap.
Kali wasted no time. She grabbed the keys from his belt and locked the door from the outside, leaving him unconscious.
She sprinted back to the test subject rooms, her heart racing. Room after room was empty, perhaps confirming Peter's claim that the other children were in the training room.
Kali hesitated, glancing toward the corridor that led to the training area. Peter's plan might have been real.
But the intercom blared suddenly, shattering her hopes: "All guards, report to Section C immediately. Subject Eight is on the loose." Her stomach sank. The guards would be swarming the area any second. "I'm sorry, Jane," she whispered under her breath.
She sprinted toward the stairwell, using Dr. Coleman's keycard to access it. The heavy door clicked open, and she slipped inside, descending to the sub basement. There, she pressed herself against the wall, listening to the sound of boots echoing down the stairs.
Drawing on her remaining strength, she created an illusion on the landing above her: a flickering image of herself darting up the stairs. A guard shouted that they saw her and the rest followed.
When the coast was clear, Kali continued down the stairs until reaching the exit. She emerged into the harsh daylight, her skin exposed to the biting winter cold.
The parking lot was a stark expanse, blanketed in snow, the icy ground stinging her bare feet with every step.
The pale winter sun reflected off the snow, making the world seem almost too bright after the dim confines of the lab. Guards shouted in the distance, their boots crunching through the ice as they scoured the grounds.
Kali's heart raced as she crouched beside a white van with a logo, HAWKINS POWER & LIGHT painted on its side. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself blending into the landscape. Once again it worked as the guards moved on, but there was still the matter of getting past the fence.
Peeking out slightly, she spotted a drainpipe half-buried in the snow at the edge of the lot. It was small and dark, but it offered a way out. Shaking from both cold and determination, she made a break for it and crawled inside.
The air inside the pipe was damp and the frozen metal bit against her skin, but she ignored the pain, pulling herself forward inch by inch, against the numbing chill.
When she finally emerged, she tumbled onto the snow-covered ground, gasping for air. The frozen earth numbed her hands and feet, but the stark silence of the forest was a welcome change from the alarms and shouts behind her.
She sat up slowly, her teeth chattering as she wiped the frost from her arms. The fence marking the lab's perimeter loomed in the distance, but she no longer felt its control.
She looked down at her left wrist, the numbers 008 etched there, a glaring reminder of what they had tried to make her, everything she had been forced to become. But those numbers didn't define her. She wasn't some nameless subject in Brenner's twisted experiment. She was Kali.
She rose to her feet, her bare toes sinking into the snow. The icy wind tore at her, but she welcomed it, a sharp contrast to the suffocating air of the lab. Her gaze turned toward the woods, the towering trees promising a new path, however uncertain.
A pang of guilt hit her, but she pushed it aside. She would keep moving, keep fighting.
For herself. For Jane. For all of them.