𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖘||𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖔𝖘

0.9

may 14 2004

Children's shoulders were not meant to carry the burdens of their parent's choices.

Reginald Hargreeves was perplexed. He had been writing notes on his daughters for years. He kept his children under control as best as he could. And he had succeeded.

Until now that is.

Five Hargreeves had acted on arrogance and now had paid the price. He had almost been gone two years, and still, the man had seen no sign of the young boy.

His children seemed to be coping with their loss fairly. Missions had gone back to normal and the Umbrella Academy had been back on top.

Well, one still had problems believing.

Number Eight had been spiraling. Her depressive episodes had taken a turn for the worse. She was erratic, refusing to eat or go on missions.

Reginald noticed that as she grew up, Eight grew more mature and beautiful. But her powers grew more complex and powerful. They became ugly. They became dangerous.

She was a beautiful rose, filled with prickly thorns.

Her depressive mood brought the worst of her powers. They targeted anything in sight and ruined it. She had to stop training with her siblings for their safety. Her powers were putting him behind schedule.

And he didn't like it.

✁- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He was sitting at his desk, writing in a book. The dim light of the room and his eighth glass of whiskey were putting him to sleep.

He heard a knock. It was about two in the morning and he knew the children were asleep.

"Come in,"

The door opened slightly and Pogo the chimpanzee walked in.

"Pogo," Reginald said. "What do you need?"

"Sir Reginald," Pogo told him. "It's about Nakia."

Reginald sighed, sitting up.

"What seems to be the problem?"

Pogo cleared his throat.

"She has been refusing to leave her room," he told him. "Even though she hides, her powers show in the most abnormal manners. She puts us all at risk."

Reginald stood from his desk, motioning for Pogo to follow him.

"As I have observed Number Eight throughout the years," he stated as he walked. "I believe I have found the source of her powers.

"They don't have a physical power force. Nakia's body is the power source. They feed on the electricity her neurons release. They run on everyone's fear."

Pogo's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting that.

Reginald continued. "As she gets older, her powers will grow because of her fear. Her powers will become stronger and her siblings will begin to feed her fear over herself. The cycle continues."

"What do you suggest we do Reginald," Pogo quizzed.

Reginald was silent. After a minute he spoke up, stopping in front of Grace.

"I propose we continue to isolate her," Reginald said. "As she grows she will most likely learn to tolerate the responsibility."

"I fear that will put her siblings in danger," Pogo stated. "Is there no other way?"

"Well, I'm sure you remembered the situation with Number Seven."

Pogo stopped. He didn't want to see Nakia suffer. Sometimes he felt like he was her father figure. But on the other hand, this was the chance to truly understand what her powers were capable of. She was older than Vanya was. She could most likely control it better.

"Alright," he sighed. "Isolation it is."

Reginald merely nodded, dismissing Pogo. He turned his attention to Grace.

As he reprogrammed the machine he couldn't help but smile. Her powers would become more mature and stronger. His plans were back in force.

✁- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

As Nakia woke up she felt the tenseness of the air. Something was about to happen.

She stood up, her curls bouncing off her back. She sighed as she stretched her arms out and began to walk to her bathroom. As she did her morning routine she heard a knock at the door.

She opened the door to find her mother standing with a scornful look.

"Mom," Nakia asked, raising an eyebrow. "What's going on? It's not breakfast time."

Grace simply held up a tray of food that contained a toasted Nutella and marshmallow sandwich with a side of raspberries. Nakia stared at her mother.

"Is something wrong, mom?"

Her mother was never this silent, she was sweet and full of life. She had barely smiled at her when she opened the door. She had a clear frown on her face.

Finally, Grace spoke.

"Your father wished for me to inform you that from now on your presence at the table will no longer be allowed."

Nakia's eyes widened.

"I will be bringing your food up from now on, three times a day."

"Wait," Nakia interrupted. "Why? What did I do?"

"Your father thinks it will keep everyone safe," Grace told her, placing the tray in her hand.

"I don't understand," Nakia muttered.

Grace began to turn and started to walk downstairs.

"I guess I'll see you at training then," Nakia sighed.

"About that," Grace said. "I'm afraid your father would like to have you practice with separate training."

Nakia's jaw dropped. She had done extra practice with Pogo when she was younger, but one on one? That had never happened before. What the hell was going on?

As Nakia closed her door she couldn't help but wonder about Grace's strange behavior. She knew that Grace loved all the children. But in those moments she thought Grace could care less.

As she sat on the floor, biting into her sandwich she was confused. Little did she know that was only the beginning.