The lock clicked. Evelyn lifted her head.
She'd stopped pulling at the chains some time ago. Her wrists were raw, her throat hurt from screaming, and the tears had finally slowed to occasional, miserable hiccups.
For a moment, she hoped it was Catherine. Maybe she'd reconsidered. Maybe someone had told her this was wrong.
The door opened. Two guards stepped inside. Neither was the man who'd brought her water earlier.
"Miss Holloway," the taller one said. "You're coming with us."
Evelyn pressed herself against the headboard.
"No."
The guards exchanged a glance.
"Don't make this difficult."
"No. I'm not going."
The shorter guard approached the bed. Evelyn immediately pulled her knees toward her chest.
"Stay away from me."
He reached for the restraints. Evelyn flinched.
"Hold still."
The first cuff opened. She tried to pull her hand away, but the taller guard caught her wrist before she could move.
"Don't."
The second cuff came loose. Evelyn looked at her hands.
Red marks circled both wrists. There was a small cut beneath her left thumb where the metal had rubbed against her skin.
The shorter guard stepped back.
"Can you stand?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"Please don't make me."
The guard looked at his colleague.
"Get her up."
Before Evelyn could react, the taller man took hold of her arm.
"No—wait!"
He pulled her to her feet. Her knees nearly buckled, but his grip kept her upright.
"Please, I don't want to go!"
"Then walk," he said.
Evelyn tried to pull away. The second guard caught her other arm.
"Let's go."
They moved toward the door. Evelyn stumbled between them, struggling to keep her feet beneath her.
"Please! I just want to talk to Catherine!"
"You'll see her soon enough."
"Then tell her I don't want to do this!"
Neither man answered.
She dug her heels into the floor. They kept moving. For a moment, her bare feet scraped uselessly against the tiles as the guards dragged her forward.
"Stop! Please!"
The taller guard tightened his grip.
"Walk, or we'll carry you."
Evelyn looked from one man to the other. Neither appeared angry. Neither looked particularly interested in what she was saying.
They simply waited for her to start moving.
And when she didn't, they pulled her along anyway.
The corridor was brightly lit. White walls. Grey floor. Doors spaced at regular intervals. Everything was clean.
Evelyn had expected something underground and frightening. A dungeon, perhaps. Somewhere with chains hanging from the walls.
Instead, it looked like a private hospital. There were even signs directing people toward different sections of the building.
MEDICAL.
RESEARCH.
SECURITY.
A woman in a white coat passed them carrying a tablet. She glanced at Evelyn, then continued walking.
A man emerged from another room with a cup of coffee. He nodded to one of the guards.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Evelyn stared after him.
Morning?
Was it morning?
She had no idea how long she'd been here.
People were drinking coffee. Walking to work. Talking about ordinary things.
And she was being escorted to her own execution.
Her breathing quickened.
"Can we stop?"
The taller guard didn't slow down.
"No."
"I feel sick."
"Keep walking."
"Please."
She tried to stop. The guards pulled her forward.
Evelyn stumbled, nearly falling. The shorter man caught her before she hit the floor.
"Watch your feet."
She stared at him.
As though she'd tripped on purpose. As though she wasn't being dragged through the building against her will.
"Please," she whispered.
Neither man responded.
The testing room was larger than Evelyn expected.
There was a medical bed in the center, surrounded by equipment she didn't recognize. Several monitors stood beside it, their screens displaying numbers and moving lines.
A cabinet occupied one wall. Behind a wide glass window on the opposite side was another room containing desks and more monitors.
Three people waited inside. Two wore white coats. The third was Catherine Reed.
Evelyn stopped in the doorway. Catherine looked up from a conversation.
"Ah. Evelyn."
She approached with the same pleasant expression she'd worn earlier.
"Good. You're here."
Evelyn stared at her.
She hadn't come. She'd been brought.
"Please," Evelyn whispered.
Catherine stopped.
"Evelyn?"
"Don't do this."
The researchers exchanged a glance. Catherine gestured toward a chair beside the medical bed.
"Why don't we sit down and discuss what's going to happen?"
"I don't want to know what's going to happen."
"I think understanding the procedure might help."
"No."
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't want a procedure. I want to go home."
Catherine's expression softened.
"I know."
"Then let me."
"I'm afraid I can't."
"Why?"
"We've already discussed that."
"But you said you'd help me!"
"And I intend to."
Evelyn stared at her.
Catherine spoke as though nothing had changed. As though they were still sitting together in the little room, discussing Evelyn's family over a sandwich.
"You promised you'd check on Lucy."
"I've asked my people to investigate."
"Have they found her?"
"Not yet."
Evelyn felt tears gathering again.
"Then please let me call her."
"Not until we can establish that doing so won't compromise this location."
"I won't tell anyone where I am!"
"I believe you. But calls can be traced."
Evelyn looked at the floor.
Every answer sounded reasonable. Every answer ended with her still trapped.
Catherine stepped closer.
"Evelyn, listen to me. I know you're frightened. But we need to establish whether your skill works the way you believe it does."
"It does."
"Then this should confirm it."
Evelyn's head snapped up.
"Should?"
Catherine paused.
"Based on what we've observed, we have good reason to expect you'll return."
"But you don't know."
"No. Not with certainty."
Evelyn took a step backward.
"Then you could actually kill me."
Catherine didn't answer immediately.
That was enough.
Evelyn looked toward the door. The guards stood in front of it.
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"No, I can't. Please."
Catherine sighed quietly.
"We've selected a method that should be less distressing than what you experienced in Manchester."
Evelyn stared at her.
"Less distressing?"
"Yes."
"You're still going to kill me."
"Temporarily, if your ability functions as described."
There it was again. That word.
Temporarily.
As though it changed anything. As though the pain stopped mattering because she might wake up afterward.
Evelyn pressed a hand against her mouth. She could feel herself beginning to shake.
Catherine watched her for a moment. Then she turned toward one of the researchers.
"Are we ready?"
"Yes, Director."
Evelyn's stomach dropped.
"Wait."
Catherine looked back.
"Please. Just wait."
She couldn't stop crying now.
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"We're not asking you to say anything."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
Catherine's answer was quiet.
"Cooperate."
The medical bed had straps. Evelyn noticed them immediately.
One near the shoulders. Two near the wrists. Another across the waist.
She stopped walking.
The shorter guard looked toward Catherine. Catherine followed Evelyn's gaze.
"The restraints are a precaution."
"No."
"We can't risk you moving suddenly during the procedure."
"I'm not getting on that."
"Evelyn—"
"No!"
Her voice cracked. She backed away. The guards moved to intercept her.
"Please don't touch me!"
She tried to slip past the taller man. He caught her arm.
Evelyn screamed.
She twisted, kicked, and tried to wrench herself free, but the shorter guard took hold of her other arm.
"Let go!"
Neither man struck her. Neither shouted.
They simply held her.
And she couldn't do anything about it.
"PLEASE!"
Catherine watched from beside the bed.
"Carefully," she told the guards. "Don't injure her."
Evelyn stared at her.
Don't injure her.
They were about to kill her. And Catherine was worried about bruises.
The guards forced her toward the bed. She fought them all the way.
It made no difference.
A moment later, she was lying on the mattress. The straps closed around her wrists. Then her waist. Then her shoulders.
Evelyn pulled against them.
Nothing moved.
"No, no, no..."
Her breathing came in short, desperate gasps.
"Please, Catherine."
Catherine approached the bedside.
"Evelyn."
"Please."
"I need you to try to remain calm."
"I can't!"
"I understand."
"No, you don't!"
Evelyn looked at the researchers.
"Please. Somebody."
The older researcher, a woman with tired eyes and greying hair, hesitated.
Evelyn seized on it.
"Please don't do this."
The woman looked toward Catherine. Catherine gave a small nod.
The researcher stepped closer.
"My name is Dr. Ashcroft," she said. "I'm going to monitor your vital signs throughout the procedure."
Evelyn stared at her.
"Then stop it."
The woman didn't answer.
"You're a doctor, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Then you're supposed to help people!"
Something moved across the woman's face. Guilt, perhaps. Or discomfort.
But she still reached for the equipment.
Evelyn turned away.
They attached sensors to her chest and arms. A cuff tightened around her upper arm.
One of the monitors began displaying her heartbeat.
It was fast. Very fast.
Evelyn stared at the moving line.
She remembered learning about physiological responses to stress in one of her lectures.
Fight or flight. Elevated heart rate. Rapid breathing. The body's response to perceived danger.
She almost laughed.
Perceived danger.
She was strapped to a bed while people prepared to murder her. Of course her heart was racing.
Dr. Ashcroft adjusted one of the sensors.
"Try to take slow breaths."
Evelyn looked at her.
"Would you?"
The doctor paused. Then she looked away.
Catherine stood near the foot of the bed, reviewing information on a tablet.
Evelyn watched her.
She'd trusted that woman. She'd shown her Undying. She'd thought Northstar might be somewhere safe.
Now she was lying on a medical bed, waiting to die.
"Will it hurt?" Evelyn asked.
Catherine looked up.
"We've chosen a compound intended to produce a relatively rapid loss of consciousness."
"That's not what I asked."
Catherine was silent for a moment.
"There may be some discomfort."
Evelyn's eyes filled again.
"You're lying."
Catherine's expression tightened.
"I'm not going to promise you something I can't guarantee."
"Then don't do it."
No one answered.
A researcher approached carrying a small medical tray. Evelyn couldn't see everything on it.
She didn't want to.
"Please," she whispered.
Catherine looked toward the monitors.
"Begin when ready."
The first thing Evelyn felt was cold. A strange chill spreading through her arm.
She turned her head toward the researcher beside her.
"Is that it?"
"Yes," the woman said.
Evelyn stared at her.
"Can you stop?"
The woman didn't answer.
"Please?"
The cold sensation spread. For several seconds, nothing else happened.
Evelyn listened to the monitor.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Maybe Catherine had been right. Maybe she'd simply fall asleep. Maybe she wouldn't feel anything.
Then her stomach clenched.
Evelyn gasped.
A sharp, twisting pain gripped her abdomen. She tried to curl forward, but the straps held her flat.
"Oh God."
Her muscles tightened. The monitor began beeping faster.
"What's happening?"
Dr. Ashcroft glanced at the screen.
"Heart rate increasing."
Evelyn's chest tightened. She tried to draw a breath.
It wasn't enough.
"Can't—"
She inhaled again. Her lungs refused to cooperate.
"Can't breathe."
Catherine stepped closer to the monitors.
"Is that expected?"
"Respiratory involvement is within the projected response."
Evelyn heard the words. She didn't understand them.
She didn't care.
She wanted air.
She pulled against the restraints.
"Help me!"
The pain spread through her body. Her fingers began tingling. Then burning. Her vision blurred.
"Please!"
Someone touched her shoulder.
"Try to stay still."
Evelyn screamed.
She couldn't breathe properly. Her muscles were beginning to spasm. Every attempt to move sent another wave of pain through her limbs.
She could hear the monitors. The researchers. Catherine asking questions.
They sounded far away. As though she were underwater.
"Please stop."
Her voice was barely audible.
"Please..."
The room tilted. Her heartbeat hammered inside her skull.
She tried to focus on Catherine.
The woman stood beyond the bed, watching the monitors.
Not Evelyn.
The monitors.
Evelyn wanted to tell her something. That she'd been wrong. That this wasn't temporary.
Not to her.
Every second was happening. Every second hurt.
She tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
Her body jerked against the straps. The monitor emitted a shrill alarm.
"Cardiac rhythm deteriorating," someone said.
Evelyn's vision narrowed. She couldn't feel her fingers anymore. Her chest burned.
She was so frightened.
She wanted Lucy. She wanted her mother. She wanted to wake up in her own bed and discover that none of this had happened.
Another wave of pain passed through her.
Then something inside her chest seemed to stumble.
Once.
Twice.
The alarm became a continuous tone.
And Evelyn died.
Darkness.
No pain. No bed. No straps.
Evelyn floated in the familiar black emptiness.
For a moment, she didn't understand where she was. Then she remembered.
She tried to breathe. There was no air.
She tried to move her hands. She couldn't feel them.
I'm dead.
Again.
The realization should have frightened her.
Instead, all she felt was exhaustion.
She wanted to cry, but she had no tears. She wanted to curl into a ball, but there was no body to curl.
There was only herself. And the darkness.
Please let it be over.
She didn't know who she was asking.
The System? God? Anyone?
She wanted to stay here.
Not forever.
Just long enough that nobody could touch her. Nobody could strap her to a bed. Nobody could make her die again.
Then something changed.
Far away, in a place that shouldn't have had any distance at all, Evelyn noticed a faint glow.
She stared.
Had that been there before?
She didn't think so.
It was small. Warm. Almost golden.
For a moment, she thought it might be a doorway.
She tried to move toward it.
Nothing happened.
The glow flickered. Something dark interrupted its light.
A shape.
She couldn't make it out.
Perhaps furniture. Perhaps a chair.
There was a faint suggestion of red, though she couldn't tell whether it was real or merely the light playing tricks on her.
Hello?
She tried to call out. No sound came.
The shape remained still.
Then the familiar pull seized her.
No.
She knew what it meant.
No, please. Not yet.
The darkness folded inward. The distant light vanished.
And Evelyn was dragged back.
Air rushed into her lungs.
Evelyn screamed.
Her body jerked against the straps, and the monitors erupted into noise.
"She's back!"
"Heart rate restored!"
"Respiration spontaneous!"
Evelyn gasped desperately, sucking in air that no longer hurt to breathe. Her eyes flew open.
White ceiling. Bright lights. The medical bed.
She was back.
She was alive.
And she was still strapped down.
"NO!"
She threw herself against the restraints.
"LET ME OUT!"
"Miss Holloway, please remain still!"
"GET THESE FUCKING THINGS OFF ME!"
The researchers moved around her, calling out numbers and adjusting equipment. Evelyn barely heard them. She twisted against the straps, pulling until the muscles in her shoulders burned.
Catherine appeared beside the bed.
"Evelyn."
Evelyn turned toward her.
"FUCK YOU!"
Catherine stopped.
"Evelyn, I understand you're upset, but—"
"YOU KILLED ME!"
Her voice cracked into a scream.
"YOU FUCKING KILLED ME!"
"I know what you've just experienced was distressing."
"Distressing?"
Evelyn stared at her in disbelief.
"YOU POISONED ME! I COULDN'T BREATHE! I WAS BEGGING YOU TO STOP!"
Catherine glanced toward the monitors.
"How long?"
"Forty-seven seconds from confirmed cardiac arrest to spontaneous recovery," Dr. Ashcroft replied.
"And the body?"
"Complete physiological restoration. No residual signs of toxicity. The tissue damage from the restraints has also disappeared."
"Remarkable," Catherine murmured.
Evelyn stared at her.
Remarkable.
That was what Catherine had to say.
Evelyn had just died screaming, and Catherine was impressed.
"You're fucking insane."
Catherine looked back at her.
"Evelyn—"
"No! Don't you fucking say my name!"
Evelyn pulled against the straps again.
"LET ME GO! LET ME OUT OF HERE!"
A translucent window appeared before her.
Undying ActivatedDeath RecordedCause of DeathToxic ExposureAdaptive Progression TriggeredAttribute Increased:END +1Resistance Acquired:Toxin Resistance Lv. 1
Evelyn barely registered the notification.
Another attribute. Another resistance.
She didn't care.
She wanted the straps off. She wanted to get away from these people.
"LET ME OUT!"
Catherine waited until Evelyn stopped screaming long enough to draw a breath.
"Evelyn, the test was successful. You've returned exactly as you described."
"THEN LET ME GO!"
"We still need to establish the limits of your ability."
Evelyn went still for half a second. Then her expression changed.
"No."
Catherine watched her.
"No, no, no. You said you needed to see if it worked!"
"And we've confirmed that it does."
"THEN YOU'RE DONE!"
"One successful test doesn't establish whether the ability has limitations."
Evelyn shook her head violently.
"Fuck your tests! Fuck your limitations! FUCK YOU!"
She thrashed against the restraints again, trying to pull her hands free.
"YOU CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS TO ME!"
Catherine held her gaze for a moment.
"Evelyn, I would prefer to have your cooperation."
"THEN LET ME GO!"
Catherine said nothing. Evelyn struggled harder.
"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
The words escaped before she could think about them.
She didn't know how. She couldn't even free her wrists.
But in that moment, she wanted Catherine to be afraid.
Just once.
Catherine's expression barely changed.
"Evelyn."
"GO TO HELL!"
Catherine exhaled through her nose and looked toward Dr. Ashcroft.
"All right. We're not getting anywhere like this."
Evelyn froze.
"What?"
"Sedate her."
Her stomach dropped.
"No."
Dr. Ashcroft hesitated.
"Director, we could allow her some time to recover from—"
"She's not in a condition to cooperate, Doctor. And I see no benefit in prolonging this."
Catherine's voice remained calm.
"Administer a sedative. We'll proceed once she's settled."
Evelyn stared at her.
"No. No, don't you dare."
Dr. Ashcroft approached the bed. Evelyn began struggling again.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!"
Catherine stepped back, already turning toward the other researcher.
"Make sure the results are properly documented. I want the full recording and a comparison with the eyewitness reports from Manchester."
"Yes, Director."
"NO!"
Evelyn pulled against the straps.
"CATHERINE!"
The woman paused near the door.
For one desperate moment, Evelyn thought she might turn around.
She did.
"Evelyn, I suggest you conserve your strength."
Evelyn stared at her.
Then she screamed.
"FUCK YOU!"
Catherine regarded her for another second. Then she turned back to Dr. Ashcroft.
"Prepare the next test."
Evelyn felt another cold sensation in her arm. Her eyes widened.
"No. Please, not again."
The room began to blur. She fought to keep her eyes open, but the ceiling lights smeared into pale streaks.
"Please..."
Her voice sounded distant.
She could still hear Catherine speaking to the researchers.
Discussing measurements. Comparing results. Planning what came next.
Evelyn tried to scream again.
This time, she couldn't.
And as the darkness crept across her vision, one thought remained horribly clear.
They weren't finished with her.