44. Forty-Four Lakey
Forty-Four: Lakey
T he stairs creaked under our feet as Cam and I descended, his towering presence a comforting shadow at my back. Below, three pairs of eyes locked onto us — Kyle's narrowed suspicion, Rose's barely concealed anxiety, and Sarah's professional curiosity. My lips curled into a smile that I’m sure didn't quite reach my eyes. It’s none of their fucking business what we do to each other.
"Everything's just fine. Just got fucked like no tomorrow," I chirped. I could practically feel the tension in the room, as Sarah eyed me. Almost as if she was trying to psychoanalyze what she thought just happened behind that door.
I walked up to Sarah, my gaze zeroing in on her, her body tensing slightly away from me. "I need another hypnosis session. Right now." The request came out soft, almost childlike, but there was steel beneath the sugar.
Sarah's brow furrowed, her professional mask slipping for just a moment. "Lakey, we typically space out sessions to allow for proper processing and—"
I cut her off with a wave of my hand, my smile never faltering. "I understand, really I do. But this is important." I leaned in, dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I think I'm on the verge of a breakthrough. You wouldn't want to impede my progress, would you?"
As I spoke, I could feel Cam's eyes boring into the back of my skull. He knew me too well, could probably sense the desperation clawing at my insides. But fuck it, I needed answers, and I needed them now.
Sarah hesitated, her internal struggle playing out across her features. I almost felt bad for her. Almost. But the itch beneath my skin, the burning need to know, overrode any semblance of empathy.
"Please," I added, layering on the charm. "I promise to be a good little patient." My fingers twitched at my sides, itching to grab her, to shake the answers out of her if necessary.
I could see the moment Sarah's resolve crumbled. Her shoulders sagged slightly, a barely perceptible nod signaling her acquiescence. Victory surged through me, dark and intoxicating.
As Sarah began to prepare for the session, I caught Cam's eye. The knowing look he gave me sent a shiver down my spine. He saw right through my act; knew the lengths I'd go to uncover the truth.
I snatched a fuzzy blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around myself like armor. The soft fabric was a stark contrast to the razor-sharp focus in my mind. I plopped down, cross-legged, a picture of childish eagerness that masked the predator lying in wait. I had something I needed to confirm. A nagging in my gut.
"Comfy?" Sarah asked, her voice strained as she fumbled with her notepad.
I grinned, all teeth. "Oh, absolutely. I feel like a kid at Christmas. You're Santa, and my memories are the presents."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cam, Kyle, and Rose slink towards the kitchen. Cam's casual swagger couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders. He knew something was brewing, and it made him uneasy to leave me.
"You sure you don't want to stay and watch, baby?" I called out. "Might learn something interesting."
Cam's dark chuckle made me smile. "I'll catch the highlights later, doll. Try not to break our therapist, yeah?"
As they disappeared into the kitchen, I turned my full attention to Sarah. Poor thing looked like she was about to face a firing squad instead of leading a hypnosis session. Must have been something on my face.
"Shall we begin?" I asked, settling back into the cushions. My mind was already racing, hungry for the truth that lay buried in my fucked-up psyche. Whatever nightmares were waiting for me, I was ready. Bring on the monsters, doc. I've got a few of my own to unleash.
Sarah's voice faded into a distant hum as I slipped under, the world around me melting away like cotton candy in the rain. Suddenly, I was floating in a sea of white, sterile and cold. I was lucky I landed back in this same room.
"Patient X shows remarkable progress," a crisp voice cut through the haze. "Genetic modifications are holding steady."
My eyes snapped open, but I wasn't in control. I was looking through the eyes of a younger me, strapped to a metal table, surrounded by faceless doctors in pristine lab coats. Their voices echoed around me, clinical and detached.
"Heart rate stable, brain activity within optimal parameters," another voice chimed in. "The emotional suppression techniques are functioning as intended."
I wanted to scream, to lash out, but my body remained motionless. Inside, though, a darkness was brewing. These fuckers were talking about me like I was some kind of science experiment. Well, newsflash assholes, your little girl grew up to have some sharp fucking teeth.
"Aggression levels are off the charts," a third doctor noted, sounding almost gleeful. "We've never seen such a perfect blend of controlled violence and emotional detachment. She feels nothing at all."
A warm glow of pride bloomed in my chest, battling with the rage and disgust. I was their perfect little monster, wasn't I? Bred for violence, raised in hell, and polished to a deadly shine.
"The subject's capacity for focused brutality is unprecedented," the first voice continued. "With proper conditioning, Patient X could become our most effective asset yet."
Asset. That's all I was to them. A weapon to be aimed and fired at their discretion. But they forgot one crucial detail – weapons have a nasty habit of turning on their masters. And I became their worst fucking nightmare. My pride was quickly replaced with rage.
As the doctors droned on about test results and genetic markers, I felt a familiar darkness rising within me. It was the same well of fury and pain I'd drawn from every time I'd put a knife to someone's throat or watched the light fade from their eyes. But this time, it wasn't just anger. It was purpose.
These memories weren't just nightmares anymore. They were blueprints for revenge. And I was going to paint this whole fucking world red.
Without warning, a new voice cut through the clinical chatter, deep and authoritative. I turned my head, my gaze landing on a man in an impeccably tailored suit. His presence commanded attention, and even the doctors fell silent.
"Gentlemen," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and something darker, "what we have here is perfection."
I felt a shiver run down my spine, equal parts pleasure and revulsion. His approval shouldn't have meant jack shit to me, but some small, twisted part of me preened under his gaze.
"Patient X is everything we've worked towards," he continued, circling me like a shark. "We must submit her DNA for future subjects. Along with Patient Y, who exhibits remarkable levels of intelligence, brutality and strength. The things these two could do together…"
I wanted to spit in his face, to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until that smug look of satisfaction disappeared forever. But my body remained motionless, a puppet awaiting its master's command.
The scene shifted abruptly, and I found myself staring at a grainy ultrasound image. A doctor's voice, clinical and detached, filtered through my consciousness.
"The fetus is developing exactly as expected," he said. "Brain structure is showing early signs of enhanced amygdala and lowered pain responses. It is also showing remarkable intelligence markers. She might outpace her mother."
My stomach churned. This was my baby they were talking about. My daughter.
"Heart rate and growth are optimal," another voice chimed in. "The Vessel is progressing perfectly."
A scream caught in my throat as I fought to release the violence, to tear the whole fucking place apart with my bare hands. But all I could do was lie there, paralyzed, as they discussed my child like she was a nobody, yet a somebody, all at the same time.
"With Patient X's genetic enhancements and the carefully selected paternal Y DNA, this child could be the key to the entire Chimera program," the suit said, his voice dripping with anticipation.
My mind reeled. Paternal DNA? Who the fuck was the father? And what sick game were they playing with my girl’s life?
Wait… Y… Patient Y. Cam? They made Cam the father. The truth was there, in my memory. The swirling white liquid from months prior, the constant talk about our ‘perfection.’ It all clicked. Cam and I… we had a daughter. My heart clenched painfully. The child we’d always wanted. And so much of her life already missed by us.
As the scene began to fade, I clung to the image of that tiny heartbeat on the screen. Whatever they had planned, whatever sick destiny they'd mapped out for her, I'd find her and make each one of these fucker’s fade into oblivion.
Everything shifted, and suddenly I was staring into Cam's dark, piercing eyes. We were in a sterile room, the walls a sickening shade of white that made my skin crawl. My belly was swollen, stretching the thin hospital gown they'd forced me into.
"Well, well, love," Cam drawled, his voice a mix of amusement and something primal. "Looks like we've gone and made ourselves a little monster."
"Guess they figured our fucked-up genes would make one hell of a runt," I said, with a grin. “But she’s ours… all ours, baby. We’re gonna be a family.”
Cam's eyes flickered to my belly, a possessive gleam I'd never seen before sparking in their depths. "Our little hell spawn," he murmured, reaching out to touch me.
A guard's voice barked out, "No physical contact!"
I saw Cam's jaw clench, his rage almost flaring out of control. But he pulled back, his trademark smirk sliding into place.
"Wouldn't want to taint the precious experiment, now, would we?" he said, voice dripping with mock concern.
I wanted to reach for him, to feel his skin against mine, to lose myself in the familiar chaos of us. But the guards watched our every move, their hands hovering near their weapons.
"How long?" I asked, hating the vulnerability in my voice.
Cam's eyes softened for a fraction of a second. "Not long enough, sweetheart. Never long enough. But at least we have this. I promise, when I’m done my time, I’ll find you. We will be a family. I promise, baby, I promise."
As they led him away, I felt something inside me crack. Our child, growing inside me. Ours. A piece of me and Cam, tangled together in all our beautiful, broken glory.
I'd protect her. No matter what it took. No matter how many bodies I had to leave in my wake.
There was nothing left to reach for, the void finally had an answer for the question that I needed to know, and I felt myself being pulled back to the present, Sarah's concerned voice cutting through the fog. But my mind was still there, in that sterile room, with the weight of confirmation sitting in my gut like a victory.
My chest felt like it was caving in, a pressure I'd never experienced before. It was like someone had reached inside and started squeezing my heart, twisting it until I could barely breathe. What the fuck was this? I'd killed people without blinking, watched the light fade from their eyes with a smile, but this... this was different.
"Lakey?" Sarah's voice sounded far away. "Are you alright?"
I wanted to laugh. Alright? I was so far from alright; I couldn't even see it in the rearview mirror.
"Yeppp," I managed, my voice cracking. "Just peachy fucking keen."
I was about to stand when everything went black, shifting to the lab under the nunnery. Sarah’s voice was frantic as she tried to snap me out of it. But this wasn’t her. This was all me. Pandora’s Box had been unlocked and now the monsters were coming out to play. I saw myself on that cold metal table, strapped down like a goddamn animal. The doctors loomed over me, their faces hidden behind masks, eyes full of wonder and curiosity.
"Subject is prepped for caesarean," one of them said, voice muffled. "Administer the paralytic."
I felt the needle pierce my skin, and then... nothing. I couldn't move, my screams were drowned out by a nun putting her hand over my mouth, but I could feel everything. Every cut, every tug, every moment as they tore my baby from me.
"Fuck," I whispered, tears burning my eyes. I never cried. Never. But now they wouldn't stop.
"Lakey, come back—"
"No!" I snarled, my fingers digging into the couch. "I need to see this. I need to remember." Sarah kept talking, but I didn’t hear her. Her voice replaced by the ones in the room.
The doctors were talking, their voices echoing in my head.
"Beautiful specimen," one said, holding up a squirming, bloody bundle. My daughter. Our daughter.
"Careful," another warned. "The subject can still hear everything."
Someone laughed, a hearty, belly laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about her. TL97 will wipe any trace of this from her memory. She will forget all about this, her child, anything that ever existed outside of the foster homes she lives in. We’ve perfected the formula and it’s flawless.”
“Excellent. Nicely done, Christopher.” The doctor said, still holding my screaming girl in the air like she was a fucking trophy. “Now that we have this, we can let them live and rot as they will.”
Christopher… no… it cannot be. Father Christopher?
“I’ll put the recall words in her subconscious memory bank, just in case we need to activate her. Patient Y is already set for military removal. Patient X is one of the best breeders we could have asked for. We should keep her here.”
“Sure, whatever you want. I have the child; I’m finished with trials for now. Take the baby to Anne, let her get her ready for her ceremony. Ensure Janine is ready.” The doctor spoke in clipped words, handing the baby off to someone outside of my vision as he walked around to my head, stroking my hair. “Well done, little one.”
As they took her away, I felt something inside me shatter and reform. A resolve, hard and unbreakable as diamond. I'd find her. It was just a matter of time.
I blinked, the world slowly coming back into focus. The living room came back into focus. A stark contrast to the sterile nightmare I'd just relived. My eyes landed on Sarah, who was sitting there in terror, clutching a knife to her side.
“Scared, Sarah?”
"Lakey?" Sarah's voice was cautious, probing. "How are you feeling?"
I wanted to laugh. What a stupid fucking question. She was terrified of me and asking how the fuck I was feeling. Clearly not as traumatized as she was feeling right now. I'd been gutted, hollowed out, and filled with razor blades. I could tear this whole fucking house down with my bare hands.
Instead, I smiled.
"I’m great. Thanks for asking."
Sarah's brow furrowed, her hand tightening around the knife. Kyle was standing in the doorway, watching me, his hand casually on his gun. "What you've experienced... it's a lot to process. We should discuss—"
"Nah, I'm good. I got what I needed.” I cut her off, rising from the couch. "Think I'll grab a snack. All this remembering's made me hungry."
As I headed for the kitchen, my mind was racing. Cam. Our daughter. Chimera. It was all connected, a twisted web of lies and pain. And at the center of it all, me. Their perfect little killer.
I could hear Rose and Cam from the kitchen, casual chatter and laughter. It sounded so... normal. Like the world hadn't just turned inside out.
I paused at the doorway, watching them. Cam was leaning against the counter, that cocky grin on his face as he regaled Rose with some bullshit story. He looked so at ease, so fucking oblivious to the storm raging inside me. Until he looked at me and his face hardened ever so slightly.
Part of me wanted to march in there, grab him by the throat, and tell him everything. But another part wanted to wait until tonight, because tonight we could be alone, we could mourn and plot and plan.
So, I plastered on my best ditzy smile and sauntered into the kitchen. "Hey guys, got any cookies left? I'm absolutely famished."
I grabbed a cookie from the baking sheet on the counter, my movements fluid and casual despite the chaos in my head. Cam's eyes met mine, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Everything alright, babe?" he asked, his tone light but eyes sharp.
I bit into the cookie, savoring the sweetness as I contemplated my next move. "Sure, babe, we will talk later though," I chirped, swallowing the bite before taking another and hopping onto the counter, swinging my legs like a carefree child. Inside, my mind was a whirlwind of fragmented memories and burning questions.
"So, what's the plan for dinner?" Rose piped up, breaking the tension. "I was thinking maybe I could make chicken and potatoes?"
I laughed, the sound hollow to my own ears. "Sounds perfect. I'm absolutely starving. Growing a conscience really works up an appetite."
Cam's eyes narrowed at that, catching the barb hidden beneath the joke. We were going to have a long talk after dinner, and I was excited for it. He was going to be thrilled to find out that I hadn’t been raped, and that she had been his all along.
As the others changed the subject, I retreated into my thoughts. The truth was a weapon now, and I needed to wield it carefully. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down. I had the sense I could trust Kyle and Sarah, but I didn’t want them to know about her. Not yet. It felt so fresh, so new that I wanted to savor it, to keep it to myself. And Cam of course.
But I’d tell them. When the time was right.
Because one thing was crystal clear: Chimera had taken something from me. I was going to get her back.
And I’d need their help to do it.