11 👣 The Research

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Gravity still sets Ece's head firm on the dew-scented pillow when she unlocks her eyelids. Darkness consumes her vision, and nothingness covers her earlobes.

However, her fingertips find something to feel. The pulse on her wrists. The puncture wounds marking her arms and knees. The stinging graze ripping her shoulders.

Tracing the outline of her onyx, which loses a sliver of its beauty thanks to the scientists' urge to collect samples, she mourns over her humiliated pride.

For the first time, Ece tastes the harsh sensation of defeat. The thought is always far beyond her head's wonders. It's never this close.

But she still has ammunition, though insignificant.

Those agents thought she was sleeping during their trip to the institution.

She was a witness of it all. How Hadassah Marisol was worshipped like she was Queen Beatrix from the Netherlands. When the gates of the site creaked open after a fingerprint. Where they had taken her before they plunged her into this cell.

When those scientists used a laser-producing item to slice a minuscule component of the onyx. Weren't they aware how her brows frowned at the scene?

Besides ammunition, she has motivations. Way fiercer and merciless than before. They scorch heat into her veins, boiling her head with a towering temperature. Her knuckles produce a satisfying crack as she curls them.

She'll find those who have escaped from her grip. Memory loss will be their prices.

Included in those will be her two minions, who were also there with her back at the shelter. The onyx's effect will wear out within days, and by then, their knowledge will flow out quicker than a flood.

"You're not Robin Hood." Raiden's voice tickles the patience within her.

Then she'll damage whoever has involved Hadassah Marisol. She wouldn't arrive in that certain scene if someone hadn't informed her. Especially in that witchy hour.

Who has been prying with her plans?

If that's someone she's trusted, or known, or have met before, their prices shall be a beating. They must suffer darkness, similar to the one she's enduring. Pain must exist along their physique, sourcing from the unhealed wounds.

Everyone may have muffled her mouth, sealed her eyes, deafened her ears, and trapped her hands. But nothing, even nightmares, can stop her brain from plotting.

She may be fourteen. Yet her brain is capable of doing things a fourteen won't ever do.

But how will Tayana accept the news of her crimes? What will Tayana say once she has been told by her captors?


"I don't know what you're rambling about, Hadassah."

Hadassah removes her eyes off the lens, blinking several times before narrowing them in an unnatural width towards Tayana. No signs of a smile are visible on her sleepless features. The black sockets of her eyes declare her exhausted status.

"I have a feeling you know what I'm asking you." Hadassah's light-brown pupils scan over Tayana thoroughly. "How could you know Ece was there, at the shelter?"

Never once has her faith rests upon Tayana's actions. She hasn't stopped bombarding the latter with queries since they've settled themselves in her laboratory.

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