LOCKEN | Season 1

16

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As the guards hauled me back to my cell, I couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at my gut. The destruction I'd caused in that room replayed in my mind, the sheer force of it, the way it had felt to let go. It had been terrifying, like losing control of a bomb with no idea when it might go off. But worse than that was the satisfaction I'd seen in Dr. Lysander's eyes, as if this was exactly what he'd wanted all along.

The guards shoved me into my cell, and the door clanged shut behind me, the sound echoing in the small space. I staggered forward, my legs still shaky, and collapsed onto the cold, hard cot that passed for a bed. My body ached in a way that was becoming all too familiar—the deep, bone-weary exhaustion that followed these tests, the kind that made it hard to even lift my head.

But I forced myself to stay awake, staring up at the ceiling as my thoughts spiraled. They'd wanted me to break, to lose control. And I had. I'd given them exactly what they wanted, and that thought made me sick. I was just a pawn in their game, a weapon they were fine-tuning until I was ready to be used.

I wasn't going to let that happen again. I couldn't.

But how could I stop it? They had me locked in here, isolated, with nothing but my own thoughts and the constant threat of more "tests" hanging over me. And then there was that door. The one in the hallway, the one that felt wrong just by existing. I couldn't stop thinking about it, about what it might mean, about what—or who—was behind it.

My mind kept circling back to it, trying to make sense of everything. But I was exhausted, physically and mentally drained, and the more I thought about it, the less it made sense. So I closed my eyes, hoping for a few moments of peace, knowing full well that sleep would bring no such thing.

But as soon as I drifted off, the nightmares came. Flashes of what had happened in the testing room, of the power I'd unleashed, of the walls crumbling, of Dr. Lysander's cold eyes, watching me like I was some kind of prized specimen.

I woke with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my heart pounding in my chest. I could still feel the residual energy crackling beneath my skin, the aftershocks of my power. It was always like this after the tests—like I was teetering on the edge, one wrong move away from falling apart completely.

I forced myself to sit up, rubbing my hands over my face as I tried to push the nightmare away. But the unease remained, settling in the pit of my stomach like a stone. I couldn't stay here, locked away, waiting for the next time they decided to drag me back for more tests. I had to find a way out. But how?

The thought of escape seemed impossible. The facility was a fortress, guarded on all sides, with surveillance in every corridor and guards who could break me in half without even trying. But I couldn't stop thinking about that door in the hallway, the one with the keypad and the black window. It felt like a clue, like a piece of the puzzle that didn't quite fit, and it gnawed at me, refusing to be ignored.

I needed to find out what was behind that door. It was a risk, a dangerous one, but I knew it was my only chance. Maybe there was something there, something that could help me understand what they were doing to me—something that could help me find a way out of this nightmare.

The hours dragged on, each one heavier than the last. Time had lost all meaning in this place, where the days blurred into one another in an endless cycle of fear and pain. I didn't know when the guards would come for me again, but I knew I had to be ready.

Eventually, the door to my cell slid open, and the guards were back, their expressions as unreadable as ever. They didn't say a word as they hauled me out, their grip just as tight as before. I braced myself for whatever was coming, trying to steady my nerves as they led me back down the corridor.

This time, we took a different route, one I hadn't seen before. The hallways seemed to twist and turn endlessly, each one identical to the last, but I kept my eyes open, trying to memorize the path in case I ever needed to find my way back. The door with the keypad was gone now, replaced by more of the same nondescript metal doors, each one as foreboding as the last.

But then we stopped in front of another door, this one slightly different. The guards punched in a code, and the door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a dimly lit room beyond. They shoved me inside, and I stumbled forward, catching myself before I could hit the floor.

This room was smaller than the last, more intimate, with low lighting that cast long shadows across the walls. In the center of the room was a large metal table, and beside it stood a figure I hadn't seen before.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and a cold, calculating gaze that reminded me all too much of Dr. Lysander. But there was something different about him, something more dangerous, more menacing. He was dressed in a dark uniform, the kind that marked him as someone important—someone with power.

And behind him, on the far wall, was a large monitor displaying rows and rows of data, charts, and graphs—details about me, about my abilities, about everything they'd been doing to me in this place.

"Sit," the man said, his voice deep and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

I hesitated, but the guards behind me pushed me forward until I was seated at the table. The man stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied me, like I was some kind of insect under a microscope.

"You've been causing quite a stir, Edven," he said, his tone cold. "Dr. Lysander has been most impressed with your... potential."

I didn't respond, didn't dare look away from him. The air in the room felt thick, heavy with tension, and I could feel my pulse racing in my throat.

"But you're not the only one who's special," he continued, a twisted smile creeping across his face. "You see, there are others like you, others with abilities far beyond what you can imagine. And we've been watching them for a long time."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, sleek device, holding it up for me to see. "This," he said, "is a key. A key to understanding your true power. But it's also a key to something much bigger."

I didn't know what he meant, but I could feel the gravity of his words, the way they seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implications.

"Dr. Lysander believes you're worth a great deal to us, Edven. Worth millions, even. But you're not the only one. There's someone else, someone who's been... assisting us. A boy with powers that rival your own, perhaps even stronger."

I felt a chill run down my spine as he continued, his gaze never leaving mine.

"He's different, though. Unlike you, he's not confined to this facility. He works with us, helps us... contain others like you. But he's dangerous, Edven. More dangerous than you can possibly imagine."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. Whoever this boy was, he was someone to be feared—someone who was part of this twisted operation, someone who could be an enemy far worse than any of the guards or doctors here.

And then, as if reading my thoughts, the man leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "His name is Jaxon. You don't know him yet, but you will. And when you do, you'll understand just how small you really are."

He straightened up, slipping the device back into his pocket. "But that's for another time. For now, you'll continue with the testing. Dr. Lysander has big plans for you, Edven. Don't disappoint him."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the guards. My mind raced, trying to process everything he had just told me, the revelation that there was someone else out there—someone like me, but worse.

As the guards led me back to my cell, I couldn't stop thinking about that name. Jaxon. I didn't know who he was, but something about the way the man had spoken about him sent a chill through me.

Who was this Jaxon? And why did I have the sinking feeling that our paths were about to cross in the most dangerous way possible?
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