It was dark when I opened my eyes.
A freezing sensation took hold of my insides, and the moment I attempted to move, I felt a restraining force. My wrists and feet were bound to a block behind my back.
Why was it so dark? Where was I?–Where was Phoebe? My dreams had never felt this real, so I doubted if this was one.
"Phoebe?" I struggled to pull my hands off from whatever that tied me back, but failed.
Too tight. Too hard. What was happening? Why were my hands locked in like this?
Phoebe . . . I needed Phoebe.
Deafening silence filled the space, and for the longest while, I remained in the dark. Cuffed, strained, blind.
* * *
I was unsure if the darkness had reduced a tad or was it just my eyes adjusting to it.
Something moved in the dark, a door creaked.
The floor reverberated with three loud thumps.
"Hello?" I called out.
No answer.
"Anybody there?" I called again. "Hello?"
My limbs had fallen into a slumber, and I could feel the scrapes etched on them from the countless times I twisted from the metal chains.
The lights flickered on. I closed my eyes on the instant, hurt from the sudden brightness. When I opened them again, the secret laboratory came to life. And my skin shivered when I took notice of the vivarium I was locked in.
"Well well well . . . Look what we have here."
I knew that voice.
Right there before my eyes stood none other than the man from my worst nightmares—McQuinn himself. Fair heightened, grey eyes, a stubble on his chin, and of course, a neat freak in a suit. All I wanted to do was spit on his damn face.
"You." I grimaced.
I felt confused, afraid, and overwhelmed at the same time.
Why hasn't this nightmare ended yet? I had a feeling that it had just began, and it took everything not to barf at that.
Please no.
"Bratty bratty bratty," the man spoke in a sing-song tone, like I was the same little kid he met back in the day. "Isn't it wonderful to see your charming face again? Maybe you can finally re-make that first impression."
Charming face my foot–What in the heavenly fuck was going on?
"Where's Phoebe?" That was all I could think about. Because last time I checked, she was the one with me. Not him.
"Oh," the man chuckled. Of course, he was amused that his daughter was all I needed right now. The oblivious scientist. "Missing your little lover already?"
I didn't miss–No. Yes, I did. But that was besides the point. I needed somebody to tell me where she was and that she was perfectly fine! That was all.
McQuinn sauntered towards the counter and washed his hands.
No, no, no. This couldn't be happening–
"Life's not fair, is it?" He nonchalantly marked in a casual tone that was filled with wit and delight. "That some people are powerful. And some . . . rags over the dust. Like you."
I almost gagged at his little initiation for a chit-chat.
I despised the slowness of his speech and the calmness of his manners. He behaved like everything was easy for him, and like this was a regular day in his unhinged life. Of-fucking-course it was. Except that today was his blessing. A very big blessing that had my stomach churning and my breathing failing.
This man got something new to add to his collection . . . something that I now realized he had been looking for.
The door knocked, interrupting his little monologue.
In walked a woman with skin as dark as mine and a face that could save my life.
"Mama!" I called, finally able to exhale because at least someone was here to save me. "Thank god!–I need out–"
She bowed before the man.
My body froze as I observed the scene in front of me. Wait–what was she doing?
"You called for me, boss?"
Mama's voice was unlike hers. Stoic, subservient, abiding. Everything to have me questioning her existence, and nothing that I ever thought to witness.
"Mama?" I called again, confused. And it was like she could not hear me.
No response. The woman was focused on the man before her.
Her boss.
That's when it hit me how mother's eyes never even glanced my way when she walked in. She barely bothered.
My heart fell.
"Yes, servant." McQuinn replied, as if he had been expecting her. What plot was this? What in the living hell was going on? "Did you finish the task I assigned you earlier?"
"Yes, boss."
"Good. Remind Roger and Kendrick to make sure everything is in place at the auction hall, will you?"
"As you wish, Sir."
A nightmare couldn't get any worse. I needed someone to wake me up. NOW.
Please.
"Mama? Mama–" I gulped as my mother strutted back out of the room, sparing me nothing. "Mama–Help me out, please!"
It took everything in me not to cry the second she was out of sight.
Great. Now I couldn't breathe. And I couldn't let myself break down in front of the horrid man who seemed to enjoy this whole show of my misery. My distraught seemed to be his favorite entertainment.
"Mama!" I let out one last time, not believing one bit that a real mother could walk away from her own child like that.
"Easy there, sweetheart." The man had the audacity to speak. "As much as I'd love to see you in a state of a panic attack, please not now. Save that for the bigger audience."
Bigger audience.
As if my mind and heart couldn't race more. In every minute, it was getting hard and harder to resist the wail in my throat.
"She . . . " He pointed at the door, insinuating the woman who had recently walked out even when I believed she hadn't. "Works for me." McQuinn pointed at himself, as if he was trying to explain things to a toddler.
"That woman? She obeys me. Listens to me." He pounded a nail into my brain. "She does only what I say. She's not your mother, bratty. She's my servant."
No. She was my mother.
That's what I tried to convince myself, even though the horrible man's words tasted of nothing but truth. Fuck him.
I couldn't remember the last time I had felt this much pain. I felt like I was grieving for a dead person. But nobody was dead.
Yet?
My eyes stung, but I blinked them away. A display of weakness was the last thing I wanted to give him. I wasn't going to let his wildest dreams come true. It didn't matter how much my mother hurt me.
At least there was one more person that could save me . . . Phoebe.
The man moved to press something on a table. A button?
The shackles on my ankles released me, leaving only my hands cuffed behind.
"Turn," he ordered.
What?
"Turn." It was obvious he hated repeating himself. "Transform." And I didn't need to ask to know what he meant.
If he thought I was simply going to give him what he wanted just because he had me hostage, then he needed a brain check.
"I said turn." He literally gritted that last word out of his teeth while I sized him up under my glare. "Transform. Now."
Over. My. Dead. Fucking. Body.
"Nevermind. I'll just take the hard way."
Knowing what this man was capable of, blood rushed under my skin at his statement.
McQuinn moved away and came back with a familiar box in his hands and placed it on a stand before me.
I felt something, like bile, stuck in my throat, and no matter how much I tried to gobble it back, I couldn't. It left me nauseous and dizzy.
"Guess your turning is not going to be your choice anymore now," he marked, grinning. "But mine to take."
I barely understood what he meant, but all I knew was that I should've known better than to disobey his command.
McQuinn twisted the lid on Pandora's box and flipped it open before my eyes.
Before I realized it, and in a painful motion, I felt the gorgon under my skin provoked to come out. I choked on nothing, feeling uneasy.
The pain grew in my gut almost too quickly. Then it began to hurt too much to keep myself human . . . so in time, I found myself morphing into the being he wanted me to be. And I hated every single second of it.
Once again, I held back from breaking out and swallowed every bit of pain and tear.
McQuinn grinned successfully when my turning ceased.
He pressed something and before I could think, the tail that had formed from my legs was chained back. So was my abdomen. And the vivarium slipped open.
The triplets tensed at the sight of the man.
McQuinn approached, ignoring my loud growls and struggles. I swore to all the gods and goddesses that if I managed to break free from these restraints, then he would be done for. I would make sure he pleads for his fucking life on my feet. He was going to be immensely sorry.
For now, all he could see was the rage burning from my eyes into his skull. And I wondered why the heavens wasn't he turning to stone at my gaze.
Who the hell was this man?
"Good girl." He dared touch my chin, and I didn't hesitate to finally spit on his damn face.
About fucking time I did it. He had been begging for it.
The man only laughed before wiping it away. But I didn't miss the hint of disgust and incredible annoyance beneath his poker face. I would've smiled at that minor victory if my body didn't hurt so much from being tied back.
"Still a brat, even as a monster. I thought you'd have a little respect for your creator."
Creator?
"I'd rather die and rot in hell than be your fucking pawn, McQuinn."
"Oh well, unfortunately, Averista Msafiri, you already are." The man laughed before plastering a grin on himself. His voice never failed to scream maniac. "Your father would be so thrilled to see you. Can't wait to see his face tonight."
My father?
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There's like four chapters to go before the Epilogue=)
Thanks for reading!