Experiment of Madness

11-When it comes to being unhinged.-Dag

I had spent hours poring over ancient tomes and scrolls, searching for even a hint of information about the mysterious Targaryen family. What little I knew came from vague mentions and fragmented stories. They ruled a kingdom across the sea, their bloodline marked by white hair and metallic eyes. But beyond that, they remained shrouded in secrecy, their history a riddle I was desperate to decode.

I knew this already. This was the information I found about Ronerys for Ivar.

As I continued my research, a growing sense of unease began to take hold. Sleep had become elusive, the relentless pursuit of answers eating away at my resting hours. I had delved deep into the phenomenon of voices in the head, searching for any clue or connection to the peculiar case before me. Every piece of information I uncovered only seemed to raise more questions, each path leading to a dead end and a growing sense of frustration.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of my brother Fane's voice."What are you doing here, freak?" Fane sneered, his tone dripping with derision.

I shot Fane a sideways glance, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Are you blind? I'm reading," I retorted, my tone sharp and defensive.

Fane continued his barrage, his curiosity tinged with irritation. "Why are you reading when you're not even in a lesson?"

I sighed, irritation gnawing at me as I tried to keep my composure. "Because I want to learn something," I replied, my voice tinged with frustration. "Ever heard of that? It's called self-improvement."

Fane's question caught my attention, my irritation with him momentarily forgotten. "Have you seen Tavi?" he repeated, his tone casual but laced with a hint of concern.
"No, I haven't seen Tavi," I replied, shaking my head. "Why? Is something wrong?"

Fane's response was dismissive, his tone nonchalant. "Not at all,"

Fane turned on his heel and walked away, his casual demeanor doing little to ease my growing suspicion. I watched him go, my mind filled with questions and concerns. What was up with Fane's sudden interest in Tavi's whereabouts? And why was he being so cagey about it?

Octavia emerged from her hiding spot under the stairs, a look of relief on her face. "He's not here," I reassured her, my voice softened by her appearance. "You can come out."
Octavia moved closer, her steps quiet and measured.

I looked at my sister, a million questions bubbling up in my mind. "Octavia, what were you doing underneath the stairs?" I asked, my voice edged with concern.
Octavia looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes darting around nervously before settling on mine. "I... I was just hiding," she mumbled, her voice small and guilty.

My eyes narrowed as I pressed further, my voice stern and demanding. "What did you do?"
Octavia fidgeted nervously, her gaze avoiding mine. "Nothing, I didn't do anything," she mumbled, her voice a strained whisper.

I fixed Octavia with a firm, unwavering gaze, my eyes boring into hers. It was a look that said I wasn't buying her innocence.

Octavia's smirk widened, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Fine, I might've pulled a little prank on him," she admitted, the guilt in her voice somewhat contradicted by the hint of amusement on her face.

As Octavia tried to glimpse the screen of my iPad, I quickly closed it, shielding the information from her view. "What are you reading?" she asked, her tone curiously.
I shot her a sideways glance, my voice guarded. "None of your business," I replied, my words cold and dismissive.

Octavia's smirk faded, her expression turning serious and almost threatening. The transformation was so sudden and so intense that I felt a shiver run down my spine. Her gaze held mine, the look in her eyes sending a silent warning. It was a look that said she wasn't messing around, and I shouldn't push her further.

As I sat there facing Octavia's intense gaze, I couldn't help but smirk. In that moment, her mannerisms and expression mirrored my own so closely that it was almost uncanny. She was indeed my sister, through and through.

As the thought crossed my mind, I realised that Octavia's fierce demeanor mirrored our father's more than my own. She was her father's daughter, strong-willed and unapologetic.

I looked at Octavia, my eyes narrowing. "Keep your snakes away from me," I repeated, my voice firm.

I shot Octavia a puzzled look, her words catching me off guard. "I thought you liked them," she said, her tone slightly defensive.

As I spoke, the memory of the hours spent researching and studying the snakes flickered through my mind. "I used them for my research," I explained, my voice weary. "I'm done with them now."

I flinched at Octavia's sudden outburst, her words catching me off guard. "You're a shit," she protested, her tone filled with a mix of anger and hurt. "Why would you use my babies for your research?"

I knew firsthand how dangerous Octavia's snakes were, having seen them up close a few times. She had three of them, each one more menacing and venomous than the last. The black one, with its dark scales and slitted eyes, was the largest and most terrifying. The red one was the most venomous, its small body hiding a potent poison. The dark green one was the fastest, able to strike with lightning-quick precision.

Despite the venomous nature of her snakes, Octavia had an almost motherly bond with them. She doted on them, cared for them, and treated them as if they were her own children. It was a strange and unsettling combination - her love for these dangerous creatures and the way she seemed to derive some perverse pleasure from their venomous nature.

I knew Octavia well enough to understand how she twisted her fascination with her snakes. The way she would hold them in her hands, their cold, scaly bodies slithering across her skin, was almost unnatural. She would coo at them, whisper sweet nothings, and even kiss them on their heads. It was a bizarre display of affection for creatures that could kill with just one bite.

It was both strange and worrying how Octavia had always been drawn to dangerous things. As a kid, she would play with spiders, pick up snakes, and even try to pet wild animals. There was a recklessness in her, a thrill-seeker hidden beneath her tough exterior. And her love for snakes only added fuel to that fire.

"So what?I needed them,I used them.Now I'm done with them. What's wrong with it?"

She looked at me and smirked.
"Christ, you really are unhinged."

I know.

11