Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes, the only place she could truly feel and remember was home, a broken home that had left scars far deeper than any physical wound. Elizabeth slowly walked into the small house she grew up in, her childhood room flashed in her mind, a small, cluttered space she had once shared with her younger sister, Philomena. It had been their only refuge from the chaos that surrounded them.
Their mother was frail, worn down by life and by the man she had married, a man Elizabeth could only describe as unhinged. Her father wasn't just crazy, he was a mad scientist, obsessed with his twisted experiments. To him, Elizabeth and Philomena weren't daughters. They were test subjects, lab rats for his cruel, relentless pursuit of power and control.
Memories flooded her, needles, strange machines, and endless nights of pain and confusion. Their mother had tried to protect them, but she was no match for him. Elizabeth had always taken it upon herself to shield Philomena as best as she could, even when it meant enduring the worst of their father's experiments.
Now, standing in the aftermath of Gunther's death, those memories burned in her mind. She had to keep going, not just for herself, but for Philomena. Elizabeth clenched the piece of paper with the address in her hand and focused on the only place she could anchor herself to, the broken home where it had all begun.
"It still looks the same" she said making her way upstairs to her room. As she walked the little hallways, memories flashed through, painful memories of her mom's screams as her father hit her. She made her way to their old room and pushed the door open. The stale, dusty air greeted her like an unwelcome reminder of how long it had been. Elizabeth paused in the doorway, her eyes sweeping across the space. The peeling wallpaper, the faded drawings on the walls, and the faint marks from furniture long removed. It all came rushing back.
For a moment, the bad memories faded, and she could almost hear Philomena's laughter echoing in the room. Happy memories surfaced: the two of them whispering secrets under the covers, sharing stories, and dreaming of a life beyond those walls.
Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh as she stepped inside, her footsteps stirring the dust on the wooden floor. She walked to Philomena's bed, bare now, with no sheets, just a cold metal frame. Sitting down, she ran her fingers along the edge of the bed, tracing the grooves she remembered so well.
A small smile crept onto her face. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to feel a glimmer of warmth, holding on to the happier moments they had shared. But the weight of her mission pulled her back. Philomena wasn't here, and Elizabeth had to find her.
She looked at the bag of money she had stolen in front of her and quietly said to herself " so this is my life now". She stretched forward to pick the bag, but her long dark hair was obstructing as she bent to pick it up. She tucked her hair behind her ears and then felt a budge she hadn't noticed until now. Elizabeth's fingers trembled as she traced the small lump beneath the skin of her mastoid. A tracker. She gritted her teeth, steeling herself for what she had to do.
" What the fuck" she said walking towards the mirror opposite her to a get a better view of what she had felt.
" Fuck!" She had a fucking tracker in her.
" Fuck fuck fuck" she panicked, strolling around the room in confusion then her eyes caught the bag. She hurried towards the bag and carried it to the trap door under her own bed. This was the door to their hidden room. Elizabeth and sister would hide in that small space to escape the terrors of their father.
Elizabeth threw the bag money into the space and locked the door, and hid the key in her pocket. She quickly went downstairs heading to the kitchen.
"Shit, it wouldn't take long before Gunther's dog find me" she shakily said, scattering the kitchen drawers to find a knife. She opened the last drawer and found a pocket knife, she paused for a minute, rethinking what she was about to do. She had no choice.
"Aghh!!!" Elizabeth screamed as she cut her mastoid open. She cut into her skin, stifling a scream as pain shot through her neck. Blood running through her hands and her ear downwards, staining the black tank top she had worn. Elizabeth dipped her hands into her opened wound finding the tracker placed in her.
"Fuckkk!!" Elizabeth groaned in pain, blood gushing down, as she brought out the little device implanted in her. Blood trickled down her fingers as she pulled the tiny device free and flung it onto the floor.
She let out a shaky sigh of relief, her breaths uneven. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the fear gnawing at her. "They'll be here soon," she whispered to herself. She had to move. Now.
Elizabeth bolted out of the house, her heart pounding in her chest. She needed time to recover before she could teleport again, but for now, running was her only option. She sprinted through the overgrown backyard and into the maze-like streets of the neighborhood, her mind racing. She had no plan, no clear destination, just the primal need to escape.
As she ran, the faint sound of engines grew louder. Her stomach twisted when she heard the unmistakable screech of car tires pulling up in front of the house she had just fled.
"They're fast," she muttered under her breath, pushing herself harder. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she darted down winding alleys and unfamiliar roads, her only focus on was to runaway from Gunther's men.
This was it, her journey had begun. No more hiding, no more captivity. For the first time, she was truly running for her life, and she had no intention of stopping or returning back to Gunther's den.
Elizabeth stumbled through the maze, her lungs burning and her legs growing heavier with each step. Her heart pounded furiously, and her pace faltered. She didn't know how much longer she could keep running, but the fear of what waited behind her forced her forward.
Just as she thought she couldn't take another step, she saw it, a break in the hedge, leading her out of the maze. Relief flooded her, but she didn't stop. She kept running until she found herself at the back of a barn. Light peeked through the cracks in the wooden boards, and she froze for a moment, realizing someone must be inside.
The sound of voices and heavy boots echoed behind her. Gunther's men were closing in. Panic surged through her veins as she bolted around to the front of the barn, desperate for help.
There, an elderly man stood, locking up for the night. He looked to be in his sixties, with fine features that hinted at a strength beneath his age. His coveralls were neat, and though a few white hairs peeked out from under his hat, he didn't look as worn as the world around him. He had just finished feeding his goats and cows and was shutting the barn door when Elizabeth appeared.
She didn't stop. With the last of her strength, she ran straight into his arms, collapsing against him. The man staggered back, his face a mixture of shock and concern.
"Help," Elizabeth whispered, her voice barely audible, before her body went limp and she fainted in his arms.